I refuse to believe that I am cheap. Yes, I love a good deal. Yes, I will spend money on something if I think it is warranted. Yes, I will bend over and pick up a penny (only 99 more to go!). Yes, OK, maybe I am cheap.
I don’t like to buy things brand new. If you look around my house, almost everything in it was either a gift or bought used. This all started when I was in high school.
When I was growing up in Idaho, there was a local thrift store called Deseret Industries, but we just called it The DI. I don’t know; does this place still exist? I bought all of my clothes there. Probably because every time I bought something new, brought it home, and showed my dad, the response I would normally get was: “How much you pay for dis? Twenty-five cents. No? You pay too much!” Then he would snap his newspaper and get back to the more important things in life: reading about his soccer team.
But I love(d) the thrill I got when I bought something on sale. I love the fact that I am using something that someone else didn’t want anymore. I love the fact that I am saving money. It helped a lot that when I was in high school, the trend was grunge, and you couldn’t buy grunge in the store. You HAD to get it at a thrift store. Or off a homeless person.
But now that I am older, and grungy thrift clothes is not acceptable work attire, I still try to find my clothes at Savers or other thrift stores here in the Reno/Sparks area. Or even at garage sales! I got a sweet down jacket, brand new, for $1! ONE DOLLAR! Love it.
So yes, maybe I am cheap. I like to think of myself as frugal, though. And this will lead me nicely to next week’s topic: my new secret addiction. And no, it isn’t shopping.