"#1-#11 The items you trade in must be at least 20 years out of style so we can buy them off of you for pennies and jackasses off the street can pay 30 bucks to us to look really ironic;
#12-items can also look like they are from a taiwanese swapmeet and look like they cost a mere 2 bucks-we'll sell them for 50 bucks for the extra irony"
Okay, here's the low-down... if you wanna read a long rant about a shitty trade & sell vintage store, you've scrolled onto the right article.
Please excuse me if i hit the mark or just plain angst filled & bias against the low lit, obscurely placed 'barely vintage'-vintage shop ubiquitously named BUFFALO EXCHANGE (although we're clearly exchanging clothes, not buffaloes nor irony in its lowest of lows).
So read this as you listen to Best Coast's Moody, okay?
FUCK YOU BUFFALO EXCHANGE.
My closet is ever expanding. With shoes barreling out the sides, and over-sized wool sweaters bursting out from being messily tossed in await for winter's bitter sweet return...
I need to get rid of as much as possible. Because... out of all these clothes, i probably only wear 10 pieces and build a bazillion outfits out of those only 10 pieces. As for my shoes, those I will keep forever-because shoes tie an outfit together and you just can never have enough heels & oxfords.
I literally brought clothes I have worn in years, from high school's past and a few designer goods (jonathan saunders silk panel pencil skirt being one of them) and even clothes that I bought from the very same store and other vintage stores. Apparently selling them back what I bought from them is too ironic. The guy pillaging through my clothes, didn't give anything a second glance-didn't even turn certain clothes inside out. A majority of those clothes cost be more than 50 dollars each when bought in the store (the very same fucking store that is!).
The judge-y dipshit kind of looked like this:
"I listen to Beck, drink mexican beer and hate my parents...they gave me an Aston Martin for my 18th birthday but I ride my bike to work as a last fuck you to them..."
I was thoroughly disappointed,plus it was my bf's birthday and I kind of dragged him there to buy him new (newly used) clothes with the exchanged clothes money. But there was none to be had.
I saw this coming, but didn't expect it to be this bad. Having my bff and my bf there made it all the more embarrassing. To be judged apparel-wise is probably the most offensive thing to do to me; whether or not these clothes suck to me, if they suck to a vintage store clerk is more annoying than anything else. Because that damned clerk was wearing some hardcore metal band tee and lame skin-tight acid wash jeans and plugs. It's like a birthday party clown telling a stand-up comedian that his act sucks ass and he should go kill himself because there's nothing out there he could possibly succeed at, and thank you for come to buffalo exchange for all your outdated ugly shit needs. HAH.
Although I've written an article on the atrocities of popular modernized bullshit vintage swap stores such as this one in the past, I haven't learned my lesson (i'm an idiot, are you happy?); I write this in greater despair-because today sucked a lot more afterward too. I finally found a place that serves Lavazza.
And it's out of a fucking machine, like the ones you find in big corporate offices, a cup pops out and powdered milk forms into steamed milk and powdered coffee gets streamed in...it was disgusting. my latte was all shit and water.
SHIT WATER.
This is how the devil gets his morning pick-me-up.
