Clothing Swap

"Who the hell does that?" my friend's husband asked his friend. "These crazy girls."

What was he so upset about? Our friendly clothing swap. Apparently this is an unknown concept here in SLC, but I participated in a few while I was in Boston. They are an ingenious way proving the old adage about one woman's trash being another woman's treasure. I think most women at one time or another, have gone to a store, either alone or with a friend and found something that was just such a good deal that we HAD to have it, or a friend told us we looked AMAZING in a shirt and even though it was fluorescent green with a hot pink leopard print, we felt we simply HAD to own it. Or, for whatever reason, a piece of clothing became no longer desirable; it shrunk in the wash, you lost or gained a few pounds, the length went out of style. And suddenly you find that in spite of the fact there is no room in your closet, you look in it everyday and find that there is NOTHING to wear. So, when this happens, it's time to pile up all the old clothes on the bed (in my case, it was an entire break-up wardrobe of size 0 and 2 that I had originally inherited from multiple friends).

My sister and I invited our girlfriends, each with their own huge garbage bags of clothes, baked some fresh blueberry muffins, cut up some cantaloupe, brewed some ice tea, and opened up shop for a Saturday afternoon. Some of the people who originally gave me the skinny clothes, took them back, happy to have another go around with them. The two poor graduate students ended up with several new outfits each, I ended up with two funky pieces I never would have bought for myself (one with the tags still on) and one tank top that was so expensive, I never did learn how much it cost. Shoes that no one wanted were donated to Africa; the clothes that no one wanted were donated to the Deseret Industries (think Mormon Salvation Army store). And in short, everyone ended up happy and satisfied. Except my friend's husband, who thought the whole thing sounded ridiculous.

"Whatever," I responded. "You would have loved it. Seven sexy women came over to my house, dumped an enormous pile of clothes in the center of my living room, closed the curtains, stripped down to our skivvies, and started throwing clothes at each other to try on. You're just mad you weren't there."

"You did not do that," he said in his most skeptical, as-if voice.

"Actually, we did," said his wife.

"Really? Wow. Hmm." He looked stunned.

After that, not another word was spoken against the clothing swap.