THRIFT CON

A STORY for Introverts:

It’s a far cry from the Met Gala, but for everyday style icons hiding out in ordinary cities, this feels special. I’m sure I’m not the only one who kept the imaginary paparazzi in mind while dressing this morning, but the devil on my shoulder hopes I nailed this look so those invisible cameras focus on me. Clearly, the topic of style brings out my vanity. I never denied it, so my catwalk stomp to get in line shouldn’t surprise anyone. Some powerful song by Taylor Swift pulses from my headphones while I pose on the sidewalk, waiting for my 15 minutes. Thank goodness I’m distracted because this line is long and in direct sunlight.

At the ticket counter, I shrug off the delusion of fashion fame and put on my thrifting cap. Now, I’m alone in a sea of people and ready to stalk my prey: the gently worn secondhand styles from my favorite decades. I’m so glad I splurged on a VIP ticket because now I get an oversized tote bag with a cutesy logo on it. It’s not going to make or break my experience, but since I plan on leaving here with a minimum of four pieces of vintage gold, this bag is all that stands between me leaving empty-handed and leaving with treasure.

The line for my tote is quick, so I’m instantly back in the stream of people flowing throughout the complex. If I blink, I’ll miss something, so I’ll keep my eyes peeled. The makeshift restaurant at the entrance reminds me of two things: I’m hungry, and I failed to come in prepared. I must admit, this is my first thrifting convention. I’ve attended other kinds of conventions, and I’ve been thrifting, but this is on another level. In a frustrating turn of events, I walked in here without a game plan. Do I take at least one lap before entering any booths, do I pick and choose what looks the most enticing from the raging aisle, or do I commit to slowly browsing every booth?

Without adequate time to evaluate, I’m going with the second option. I’m inside the National Western Complex, it’s huge. Giving each booth five minutes would take days. I’m also on the impulsive side. Combine that with the furious snatching thrifters can exhibit (especially under special circumstances like this one), I can’t risk walking away from a juicy find because I promised myself a whole lap first. Thrifting is serious business.

I wish this vein of rushing humans hadn’t swept me so far from that restaurant, because I’m still hungry. Maybe I’ll swim upstream at the end of this and grab some French fries on my way out. For now, I’ll scroll to my favorite ’70s playlist for inspiration and glide along on this chaotic train. I see screen printing and classic rock vinyl, comforting sights that reassure me I’m among my people.

I’ve reached The Pit. It’s a meadow of t-shirts, as far as the eye can see. Piles of basic vintage cotton, with faded NASCAR logos and once-vibrant images of My Little Pony dancing around a rainbow fountain. Every t-shirt that existed between 1976 and 1999 lives here, waiting for its forever home. It’s intimidating. All I can do is shuffle through the nearest stack to see if there’s something here for me before my anxiety creeps in.

I’m not big on t-shirts anyway, so I’m back in the flow to another booth. That table looks interesting, and so does that one, but will they have my diamond in the rough? Will they be worth stopping at? This one will. I see furniture from my childhood, and while I don’t have the means to get any of this home, taking a moment to lounge sounds great.

The more I wander, the more my FOMO kicks in, convincing me I passed my destiny at that last booth. There go some lovely vintage cameras, and I wonder if I should’ve fought a little harder to dive in there. I’ll regret that later. It’s alright because I’m beelining it toward the mini backpacks. That’s corduroy with clever patches sewn on. Next door are well-made collared shirts, the best one covered in tigers eating pizza. Is that a matching fanny pack? Looks like I’ve found my corner. A floral shawl floats out from the rack and I can’t resist.

With my new tote full of vintage, I feel complete. I haven’t been here long, but I did that lap and I’ve checked into most of the interesting booths. I’m still thinking about those cameras, and as if on cue, I see the booth for Photoroom near the exit. This should cure my camera craving. Their prop table is exquisite, and I gravitate to the phone shaped like giant red lips. The green screen is a great touch.

The French fries I smelled earlier no longer sound delicious and my feet are ready for some sitting, so it’s time to go. It looks like they’ve lined the front wall with bargain bins, one of those dollar-per-pound deals. Somewhere in there, these guys are accepting clothing donations, too. I wish I’d spent the time last night collecting items to donate.

I missed some things because I wasn’t prepared, but at least I will be next year. You live and you learn, and, if you’re, lucky you’ll do it dressed in vintage.

Just-So-You-Know DETAILS:

My thrifting adventure took place in Denver, CO, but Thrift Con travels nationwide, hitting several cities yearly. Every year looks different, although some stops seem to be reoccurring. In 2023, they’ll move from Atlanta, Denver, Los Angeles, Houston, Portland, Las Vegas, and finally to Charlotte. Follow them on Instagram at @thrift_con to keep up with their trek and find another chance to thrift. The event brings in plenty of local sellers with a wide range of collectibles, but they also provide eating areas. After all, who can make such important decisions on an empty stomach?

Thrifting is a sustainable practice, so it makes sense that they’re offering tote bags for shopping (at the small price of $13) to discourage nonrecyclable materials from entering the complex. There’s a donation center inside as well, right next to the discount bins and photo booth. If you crave that extra incentive to reuse, reduce, and recycle, scroll through their Instagram page.

The GIST – Should You Visit Thrift Con?

This is the perfect place to be alone in a crowd. Sometimes, the most comfortable setting is where I’m free to wear my headphones around other people. It creates that distance between everyone else, like putting up an invisible wall that allows me to pass through the traffic. Sprinkle in some spicy luxury items for sale, and I’m in heaven.

You will have the traditional panic attack during the entry process and wonder what could’ve possessed you to do such a thing, but you’ll breathe easy once you’re inside and face-to-face with all that retro treasure. For anyone who places value on aesthetics or is shamelessly stylish, shopping is key. Shopping for vintage online is sketchy when you can’t size things accurately, so thrifting will always demand you put on your brave face and step outside. If you’re going to anyways, why not at Thrift Con?

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Follow Thrift Con’s trek across the country toward a city near you.

Read about another spot with classic goods, the Abracadabra blog.