this whole post is just a way for me to sneak in a brag about my awesome thrift score.

We stopped by the rich people’s mall today to visit the Genius Bar (I’m serious. It’s really called that. wtf, apple?) with TeenHer’s ipod in hopes they’d whisk it off to ipod heaven and just give her a new one. But when we got there at 2, we found that in order to see a Genius you must make an appointment, and the next opening was at 8:15 p.m. Wait, WHAT? I have to make an appointment to talk to a customer service guy in order to send my ipod in for warranty repair?

Okaaaay. The RPM also has this store which I’ve never been inside before. I’m so glad we went there because after leaving the gleaming white hospital of apple, walking into Anthropologie made me feel instantly cool and bohemian, and glad I didn’t buy any of that sterile, boring, monochrome apple nonsense. Anthropologie smells like freedom and incense and cotton. The music floated over me, reminded me to breathe in and just relax and let my hair down. I wanted to take my shoes off and roll around in the patchwork quilts.

And then I saw the price tags. This place doesn’t beg you to visit the sale section-they bury the sales in the back of the store, under a tiny sign that says simply “sale” in red letters on a very slightly darker red panel. Because I don’t judge a store by its retail, I sniffed out the clearance cubby and I only got to the first rack before I started to feel like I really Did Not Belong. 59.99 and up, said the first sign. Pillows, like you throw out on your sofa, the kind you pile up under a baby when he’s climbing on a desk (oh wait. I’m not the only one who does this, am I?)- they were marked 69.00 on clearance.

Finally I get it: this store is Hot Topic for grown ups. Bohemian Trendy. Patchwork quilts for the masses, indian cotton shirts and tiered skirts and Post Secret books and Ready Made manuals for the old school bohemians who’ve crossed over into suburban chic and who can’t be bothered to visit a thrift store.

Last week I bought a pair of LL bean Wellies at a local thrift store for a dollar. At the same time, for a dollar I picked up these boots for TeenHer. Maybe you can understand then, why the concept of a $60 pillow would be so out of my realm.