Op shops. What gives! The down lighting, the crammed racks, silky yardage print dresses falling off hangers, the weird smell and the fact that if you buy something you have to carry a plastic bag around with you for the rest of the day. (NOTE: plastic bags are not a good accessory on any occasion. Except maybe the supermarket) and then there’s ALWAYS "that girl" You know- the one with the poorly bleached crop and jeans so high waisted she may as well be nude. She's the best friend of the red haired girl who's wearing an oversized flannel and stockings skewered with holes. Oh and one of those hats, don’t forget the hat! Please, it makes the outfit. In any other situation I would not find these two girls irritating. But why are they ALWAYS standing right where you want to look? Honestly. For the most part it’s just too bloody hard. That is until, you find something amazing. Something you know you wouldn't find unless you made it yourself. Yesterday I found this unbelievable off white, washed silk shirt. Seven dollars later and I now take back every unsavory thing I've ever said about op shopping. Because It's fucking great.
WHITER THAN WHITE, HOLIER THAN NOW