when i was twelve years old, i really wanted a pair of ripped up, paint splattered jeans. all the girls at my middle school had a pair, nevertheless, from hollister. i had only ever shopped in the very back room of hollister, where the 5$ tables of rolled up tank tops and extra large tee shirts laid, in the colors nobody really wanted.

i asked my dad if i could get a pair of these coveted ripped up jeans. he was particularly happy that day, so we went.

at last, in the fitting room, i studied myself in the mirror with the ripped up, paint splattered denim hugging my twelve year old curves. finally, i thought. they are almost mine.

my dad and i stood in the long line of the dark, dimly lit crowded space when he finally asked, "how much are these, anyhow?" i whispered up to him, "65 dollars".

"65 dollars?!" he basically barked. i was already blushing beet red. "i'm sorry trac. that's just too much. i can't."

i put down the jeans on top of a pile of thermal sweaters. we immediately left the mall.

on the car ride home, i was staring out the window holding back my tears of frustration when my dad told me about thrift stores. i had obviously heard of them, but had been too mortified to ever go to one. my mom usually just took my  brother's and i to marshalls or ross, or jcpenney sales. but my dad mentioned that we could really uncover gems from secondhand stores, if i had the eye and the patience to look.

so we went. i remember feeling better, walking out with a new pink and gold necklace and a pair of sunglasses. this is pretty fun, i thought. and my dad didn't complain about the prices.

later that week, i had an idea. i would make my own damn ripped-up, painted-on jeans. my mom took me to jcpenney. i found a pair of 12 dollar jeans that fit and were perfect enough to be my blank canvas. she also took me to joann's fabrics where i bought tiny bottles of fabric paint in colors of turquoise, yellow, neon pink, black, lime green, and a sparkly, silvery gray.

i went straight home and went to work on the jeans. i used a cheese grater and some sandpaper my dad had for the holes. i used scissors to also make very blatant holes. i even used bleach in small sections to created a faded look i'd seen in the hollister ads. i used the paint to write my initials and other things like peace signs and neon pink hearts.

i hung them over the shower curtain to dry and wore them to school the next day.
 several of the "mean" girls attested that my jeans were infact not  hollister, and just "fakes". i replied saying, "they're not fake. i just made them myself."

the next week (when i wore them again), a girl in my chorus class asked me if i could make her a pair, too and that she would supply a pair of plain denim jeans for me to do the work on, and proceeded to ask how much i would charge her.
my eyes widened because i couldn't actually believe someone would want to pay for a similar pair to my jcpenney, badly bleached jeans.

i immediately agreed. when i had finished her pair that night and brought them the next day she screamed, "i love them!" and shoved a ten dollar bill into my hand.

i took three more orders that week.

i bring up this story because a few days ago, i was going through an ancient looking cardboard box in the shed, and at the bottom, there were my jeans.

 i held them up and laughed- they were quite a site. on the back left pocket i wrote the year, 2005, using the two zeros as eyes for a smiley face. i took a couple photos, held them tight for a moment, and threw them away.

i did not toss them in a way that was ridding them gone, but more so thanking them for that time in my life that changed me and truly, taught me something valuable. that stage of my life is gone for good, so i thought it only appropriate to send them off to a place where i could never get them back, just like past years of my life.

i was reminded of the girl who didn't care what people thought of her. a girl who took advantage of opportunities and did something about the situation to get what she wanted. things have never really been "handed" to me in my life (i will say though, my dad bought me my first car, a 1989 mercedes 560SEL for less than two thousand dollars and boy, it was pretty cool). but for everything else, i've had to work hard and try my best to get things where i wanted them to be, and still do.

ever since then, i continued to go thrifting, finding things like balenciaga bags, ysl heels, mink fur coats, michael kors button downs, leather trousers, and more. i've made colorblocked painted suede céline-like clutches, stubbs and wootton-esque smoking slippers with ebay-bought patches, plaid and chambray shirts with holes in the shoulders when i saw hanneli mustaparta wearing one in vogue in 2009.

i make it a point to go to a goodwill whenever i travel as well. savannah georgia, los angeles, new york city, minnesota.

i thank my dad for that day.