thrifty thursday and more

In the fall of 1985, my parents packed my considerable belongings and dropped me off at Brumby Hall, my freshman dorm, at the University of Georgia.*

That makes it sound spontaneous, but believe you me, it was not. 

My roommate was pre-arranged. 

(Mom, how did you find this chick? Did you know that we were soul sisters? Did you know that she was insane and chain smoked and spent most of the day in her panties? Oh, Tricia, I love you, still!)

My sorority was basically pre-arranged.

My outfits? Holy Mother of Christ, you can't know the time and effort and money that went into my clothing! We could even call it a 'wardrobe' I believe.

All fabulously calculated and coordinated. 

I'm from South Georgia, remember.

So, of course it would follow, that my mother and the mother of my soon to be room mate and partner in crime, would have arranged that we have matching monogrammed bedding.

Hell yes they did.

And in the deep south, everyone is nodding in unison, a collective approval, while my western friends are thinking that a sleeping bag would have done the trick.  

And while I no longer have a wardrobe, you can bet that my mom saved my freshman year bedspread and Della is cozy under it every night.

How's that for thrifty?

The other day I was at the thrift store and saw this darling embroidered pillow case. The D loves it. 

"Can we fluff my bed?" she asked.

That's Patton speak for 'prettify and make fresh and cozy.'

We pulled off her wintry covers and went with feminine, and crisp, and pretty. 

My boys like for their beds to be fluffed too. 

Evidence of other thriftiness?

The lamp I got as a teenager.

The shelves....roadside.

The Della doll...I made.

The Wonder Jar...all those little toys that drive you crazy scattered hither and yon take on cult status when put in a jar.

I also saved that face numbing laughter that I shared with my freshman roomie.  I try to dole it out as appropriate.

We did. not. stop. We were our own circus. Nothing was spared. Nothing was sacred. We could have ended up in jail, certainly a psych ward. 

We would drive the half block to our favorite restaurant every night, and she would put in ZZ Top at TOP volume, open the moon roof, light a cigarette, easily hit 180 mph in her silver Monte Carlo with red interior, and yell heinous expletives at anyone within earshot out the open window. This was a half block....imagine a road trip. I remember my legs being weak with laughter.

Life is funny. Thank goodness. 

Go forth 

and be thrifty! 

(but not with laughter)

*I was wearing cut-off Duckhead shorts, a Sea Island T-shirt, and huge cotton socks with my red Tretorns (not my blue or green ones). My bag was Louis Vuitton. I was very tan. Squeeze was my band of choice and I wore lots of gold jewelry.