How I Ended Up with the Notorious Eileen Fisher Harem Pants: Selling on Twice Clothing

A few days ago, I recounted my (over)buying from some of the new resale sites. I swear I've put the brakes on.

Here's how I ended up with the EF harem pants that everyone was writing about a few years ago when they were first introduced.

I was going to write reviews of the various resale sites. For the "full picture," I decided to try the selling angle--at Twice Clothing. This is my story.

Selling at Twice: I sent in 7 things, including two pairs of shoes because they offered an extra $5 credit for shoes. These were unworn havaianas, so I knew they would be taken. If you send stuff in, you risk having items rejected. You can get items back, but it is a use it or lose it proposition. Either you take the offer (including having rejects sent to charity, which is a good thing) or have everything sent back for a $4.95 fee.

If I were sending in anything of high value (which I myself would not do, not that I have anything of high value), I would send it alone for the above reason.

 I only sent in items that had already been rejected by the Buffalo Exchange, so I was willing to lose everything in the experiment. You must check your items to see if they are on the accepted brands list. They took 5 items of mid-value and I got $21 in cash or $23 in credit. Plus $10 in credit  on the shoes. The amounts were in-line with their calculator. The things they rejected were nice, but there is no arguing with their evaluation.

I decided that for ease, I would take the credit. That decision was a mistake for me. I kept checking the site to try to use the credit. Of course, I didn't see anything I liked. Turns out having credit makes me rather agitated. 

Finally, I saw a pair of THE Eileen Fisher harem pants. They were 28 plus 5 in shipping--that would use up my entire credit. I've always wanted to try these on, so I figured it would be worth it for that alone. I also rationalized that I could sell them on Ebay (which I absolutely hate doing, so this was probably wishful thinking on my part.)

Much to my surprise, I love the harem pants! I will take them to Europe this summer. I only hope that Miss Em doesn't mock me too much when she sees them. She is prone to devastating critiques of my choices. She's always--or usually--correct in her assessments. 

As you can see, you get a ridiculously low price for your items. This is also the case on Thredup, a competing site. It seems that you get between 10 and 15% of the eventual selling price for things they take. The spread is much better at the Buffalo Exchange, where you get 50% of the selling price in credit or 30% in cash.  

The plus side is that i tried something I never would have tried "at regular prices." 

Will I buy again? Probably not, I'm afraid.  While engaged in my obsessive effort to use up my credit,  I noticed that the prices on items for sale are not consistent, but go up and down--and sometimes up again. I find this annoying. One Eileen Fisher jacket was $59, then $42, then $46, and is back up to $59 again. They probably have a complex formula. Still, prices going up and down and up--well, that's enough to take the site off my list (thank heavens!)

Will I sell again? If I have enough piled up that i don't care about, I might send in a bunch to get Miss Em some credit. I like to take things to the Buffalo Exchange for the social interaction. And I always like to donate. Sending to Twice would be a low priority.

Anyway, I am now the proud owner of EF harem pants. No way will I wear them to work. They will attract too much commentary (much derisive, I am sure). In Paris, I will just blend in. They are very comfy and I can cross my legs in them--unlike the experience of some reviewers.

No, I will not post pictures. 

Where are the pickers of yesteryear: Naomi

Ah, mixed feelings here. I met Naomi at a yard sale in Bloomington. I arrived on foot (since I had no car), started chatting with Naomi, a woman about 15 years my senior. She ended up giving me a ride home. In fact, she started taking me to sales with her on weekends.

It says something about me that I still remember two things I bought at that sale: a large woven bedspread and some fabric to cover the seat of a Queen Anne-style chair. I have both even now.

Naomi was radical politically. She had many left-wing bumper stickers plastered on her car, eliciting honks, wild hand gestures, and sometimes near collisions from the conservative drivers of the area. She was an eccentric personally. She was divorced. Her former husband was Greek and had taught in the law school. When democracy was restored in Greece, he returned to a government post. Even though he no longer had a legal obligation, he sent Naomi a check every month. Their kids were gone: the son was in college and the daughter was a dancer in Europe.

She also got money from her family. Her father had been a rather prominent architect in New York City. Her widowed mother was in poor health and lived in a big apartment on the Upper West Side. Her mother gave her extravagant gifts: a small Rembrandt etching, beautiful jewelry, and many objets. She would occasionally drag something to an antique dealer when she needed money.

She lived in a beautiful old house, decorated with remnants of her former life (elegant Danish modern furniture) and funked up with eccentric finds. As I recall, the living room was shiny black and red. She said "I only like junk now." She had a fabulous eye and was an excellent artist.

Her live-in boyfriend, Jim, was about my age. He was getting a PhD in astronomy. He slept all day and worked on his thesis all night. Occasionally, he would come greet us when we returned from a yard sale. He would always wear a brocade robe supplied by Naomi.

Well, Naomi was a little crazy at times and became totally obsessive about finding things to resell (which she learned about from yours truly). So obsessive was she that instead of consigning at the Eye of Osiris (where she also started working), she opened her own store. She did almost no business because she priced everything too high. She also befriended a waif, who repaid her kindness by robbing the store.

One day she turned to me in the car. She said, "All the women in my family are self-destructive. Don't be like me. You need to finish your thesis."

She was right. She was--with great kindness and perhaps even with some love--telling me to end my relationship with her. She knew I was easily distracted from my work. Our weekend jaunts ended. I got a teaching job. I never saw her again after I left that summer. I am so grateful to her: she pushed me to my true vocation.

Pickers of Yesteryear: Enemies Part 2

The other person who treated me with enmity was ER. She owned a small vintage shop with an art studio behind. I'm not sure if she produced much art.

Like PM, she was a bitter person, though perhaps happier now. I think her husband was rather countercultural and ER was a conflicted countercultural. Her relative poverty beat her down. Her husband didn't make much money and I don't think her shop did very well, since it was quite expensive compared to the Eye. It was also upstairs in a downtown building and not as well situated.

When I went into a thrift store, ER would say to her young daughter, "Uh oh. We have to hurry before SHE gets the good stuff!" I thought this was a joke, till I talked to my friend Charlotte. Charlotte's beautiful daughter Kate (for whom I babysat) was friendly with ER's daughter Emma. Charlotte said, "ER asked me why you always try to talk to her." Oh. How humiliating. I hadn't realized my very chats were unwelcome. So--in a mean-spirited way--I never spoke to her again. Not a single word.

Watching these unhappy people made me realize--though it took a while--that picking was not a permanent career for me, fun as it was. ER--in one of our few chats before I learned how much she disliked me--said "I went to the Art Institute of Chicago! I have a BFA!  I'm an artist! I should be a curator! I shouldn't be doing this!"

I had to do something with my OTHER talents. Naomi pushed me back to my vocation.

Am I Still A Picker? Church Sale and the Buffalo Exchange

I was driving to that frugal paradise, the public library, when I saw a yard sale sign by the Presbyterian Church. It was 11:45; the sale ended at noon. UGH! I love church sales. Last year, I got some great items for Frugal Son's new abode.

I went in and saw that it had been totally decimated. The exhausted volunteers told me that I could have a bag of stuff for $5--plus whatever didn't fit in the bag. Always glad to help.

I saw two ugly Christmas sweaters, something I KNOW I can get credit for at the Buffalo Exchange. I also saw a witch's hat. Ditto.

So I got those things, plus a NEW IN BOX Kohler toilet seat (!), currently $40 at Home Depot, some ugly oven mitts for Frugal Son, some envelopes for everyone (actually needed these), some ugly dip spreaders for me and Frugal Son (needed these too), a beautiful Dale of Norway cardi with pewter clasps (I have a weakness for these), and a serviceable black leather tote bag for lugging stuff my last few years of work. Two ponchos from the Grand Canyon (great for travel--these were in the little bags); a few sharpies.

The sweaters and witch hat went to the Buf (right near Frugal Son's abode and near Ace Hardware, where we had to get stuff anyway). We got about $25 in credit, with which Miss Em can get an item or two.

And this was just the detritus.

That's the toilet seat from the Home Depot site. My bathroom does not resemble the photo, alas.

Pickers of Yesteryear: Enemies Part 1

Not all is rosy in the world of pickers. I remember seeing two women at my local Goodwill: each had hold of one end of a vintage child's rocker. They stood and stared at each other for several LONG minutes, hissing insulting comments. Finally, one let go.

So too back in Bloomington, Indiana, in the 70s and 80s. Unlike Karen and Sioux, remembered in my last post, I did not have a car and my effort was limited to the two thrift stores within walking distance. Also, unlike them, I did not have another job. Mr FS was living on his grad student teaching stipend of $300/month and, though he was willing to share with me, it was really not enough.

Off I went to hone my newfound talent (see tale of my 25 cent jacket which turned to $12 before my amazed eyes). It hardly required any investment and I started making money right away.

Two people, who no doubt have long forgotten me, were very hostile. There is enough for everyone at thrift stores, but treasures like beaded cashmere sweaters and the like are not available in abundance. So my entry into the market was, I soon realized, not welcomed by those who were already doing it.

One of the people who disliked me was PM, an older woman (if the person by her name is the one I knew, she is now 87 years old). We all thought she was crazy. Several of the women who ran the Eye of Osiris were writers and we often plotted out a mystery novel based in the vintage biz with PM either as victim or as murderer. PM was--by gossip--the ex-wife of a professor. She had had a gig as secretary in an academic department and had lost her job when she tattled on a faculty member for some misdeed.  (It's hard enough now to go against the patriarchy. Imagine then!)

PM was desperately poor or so she said. She had obviously really come down in the world and lost her status--and how to get it back in Bloomington when everyone has a PhD and is competing for the same low-end jobs? Especially then. Some said she had a son from whom she was not in frequent contact. She had a close relationship with her daughter MM. In fact, the two together reminded me of Miss Havisham and Estella from Great Expectations.

Eventually, PM got a job in a museum or agency. She had some security again, so she quit her picking activities. Even though she was quite hateful, I do hope she found some happiness. (Pic below from UK Telegraph)