We walked into Second Chances Thrift Store and the familiar smell of consignment filled my nostrils. It’s the scent of other people’s pasts commingling in a way that’s oddly specific. If it was a color it’d be brown, but not in a bad way. This smell reminds me of my parents because their hobby is to visit these stores going through the often over-stuffed corners picking out the items one by one with the same precision someone would pick ticks off a dog. They love it and can spend hours here.
Over the years, I’ve come to tolerate it. I like it as much as someone can like anything, it’s amusing for the first fifteen minutes. I feel as if I’m walking through someone’s old closet, but I lack the patience required to find gold. In the same time i’ve made my way around the entire store, my mom has barely passed the cage of pet rats on sale–– which is to say she’s right at the beginning of her loop still thumbing through women’s clothing. My dad, who is a bit faster, comes back with a book.
“I got it!” The old book is filled with different types of Lindal Homes, which I’m not familiar with but seems to be a company that provides an array of home templates each customizable to its prospective owner. I’m not even sure if it’s still in business the book is so old, but it has blueprints for cabins and that just may come in handy to me.
“How much is this?” my dad asks the young girl who looks bored behind the counter, maybe because she has no room to move due to the five jewelry displays they’ve stacked around her.
“That’s 50 cents,” she says nicely and then goes back to reading her magazine.
My dad digs into his pockets and gives her the change handing me back the book. He hasn’t scanned it with his app yet. This is a new hobby of his, checking the retail value of any book he finds in thrift stores. The app scans books and reveals the going rate and true value of the book. I don’t even bother to ask how it does that because I know better. There’s an algorithm for everything nowadays. Sometimes it seems as if our lives have come down to formulas that measure and predict our behaviors.
Thankful, I take the book and see if my mom has managed the pass the rat cage. She has but I still have time, she’s barely made it through the old umbrella section. I get comfortable alongside the bored clerk and begin to read Lindal Planning, Bringing Your Dream To Life.
What a surprising treat, a true relic from the past! It seems to have been published in the late 80’s, around the time I was born 31 years ago, and features one of the first computers ever to make it to the market. The language and photos of homes are especially intriguing. One of my favorites is the “media room,” which features a Kelly green carpet and literally an entire wall filled with technology that looks like large antique gray boxes with fake buttons and blinking lights. Something that would have been in the scene of a Bond move from the 60’s.
It has all the trimmings of early lifestyle porn. This is the type of language currently used in all the magazines and blogs on Pinterest having to do with styling your home in alignment with your desires. The beginning of HGTV and generations of people who would begin to “curate” their homes and lives for generations to come.
Unfortunately, I have little use for the cabin blueprints as the book is dated and doesn’t apply the “open concept” we’re all accustomed to today. We knock down walls, it’s what we do. Watch any episode of Fixer Upper and you’ll know what I’m saying. A wall separating the kitchen and living room? What a rookie move. Think of all the space you’re wasting.
There’s even a thoughtful questionnaire to guide you in the design of your future home. The questions are a bit dated, my favorite being: Do you read? If so, how often and where?
I truly love it though. Lindal Planning has become one of my many odd treasures. It has all my favorite elements in a coffee table book, nostalgia, esthetic, whimsy and humor. Something for everyone.
