English Please


I have taken to adoring thrift stores in NYC.  I find the most interesting additions to my rather particular wardrobe.

Since my tradgic and angsty teen years I have maintained a gothic, nearly all black wardrobe, but not too daring a one to be stared at and labeled disturbed too much. Given my chronic shyness, I have never enjoyed eyes on me for too long. However, since I met my most recent ex girlfriend, Laura, her being the biggest geek/nerd/shopaholic I found my wardrobe beginning to accumulate clothes of the pointed geek variety.  Here’s the best example I can give. A pair of leggings she bought for herself, which didn’t fit and went to me, with the characters from The Corpse Bride on each leg, dead faces staring at you, of Victor and Victoria.

I soon enjoyed the additions she began to happily shove my way, eager like the rest of the world to get me out of black, and went out on a limb of my own and began trolling etsy and ebay for more particulars of the geeky interests I enjoy. She helped. Often. And I have found myself leaning towards clothes and accessories in the pigeonhole of bubble goth.

Unable to get to a bank easily, and random babysitting jobs paying cash, I have begun to expand my search to New York City thrift stores rather than trek to Manhattan everytime I want to put money in the bank.

I grew up inside thrift stores, my dad couldn’t deign to buy anything new to save his life cheapskate that he is  and my mom introduced me to this pleasure early on. Thrift stores in New York, however, are a whole different creature entirely. Finding brand new, name brand, expensive still $80 price tag attached, stuff isn’t unlikely. With the addition of the law of attraction, and my stabbing attempts at mastery of it, I have had good luck of late, the universe proving most accommodating in helping me find what I want.

Yesterday, in Brooklyn, at this little hole-in-the-wall thrift store on Kings Highway found this pastel green, long sleeves t, with black skull motif, complete with hippie flower eyes.

Today, I found, again in a thrift store, this one I frequent weekly in the bronx, a lacy skull motif crop top, cream colored. Both were too pastel goth to pass up, and added to those I’ve found, since tuesday, 5 other skull themed things.

1.) A Jack Skeletington purse, Tim Burton official on the tag, Disney copyright.
2.)A red bow, skull motif.
3.)A black skull necklace, with working mandible, and red winking fake jem eyes.
4.)A little bell skull head phone dangle charm, you know for when cell phones came with a plastic notch to attach those.
5.) And a copy of the first edition of Lady Death.(coughcomicbooknerdcough)


That makes 7 things with the same theme in three days.  Coincidence my fat ass.

Emery Allen, “Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences”

Anthony Horowitz, “I don’t believe in coincidence. Where some people see coincidence, I see conspiracy.”

G.K. Chesterton, “Coincidences are spiritual puns.”

I guess there is the proof of either a. or b.

A. I am getting the hang of this manefestation thing.
B. The Universe is trying to tell  me something.

It’s a shame I don’t speak Synchronicity. Hello, Universe? English please.


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