Feeling Poor and Shabby: At Goodwill

Mostly I hang out with people like me: middle class. I would guess that I am the higher end of the crowd that hits Goodwill. Every now and then, I feel poor and shabby: in Paris, walking along and suddenly surrounded by people of enormous elegance and wealth (oops! on the rue de Sevres--right by Hermes), on the upper east side of NYC--places like that.

Yesterday, I had the same feeling at Goodwill. With my fellow shoppers, I was perusing a rack that had just hit the floor. OMG: a cluster consisting of a Donna Karan suit, a Missoni dress, a Blumarine dress, about 5 pieces of Dolce and Gabbana, a Pucci top. Oh yeah, a Herve Leger bandage dress. WHAT????

I bought the whole lot (which the other perusers showed no interest in, btw) in the hopes that they would fit Miss Em. Miss Em has the chic-i-tude to pull this stuff off--if she can fit into the tiny sizes.

Who donated this stuff?

Well, luckily for the inquisitive me, I found dry cleaning tags. The rich donors are a pair of doctors, plastic surgeons: Mr Doctor has a breast reconstruction clinic in New Orleans; Ms Doctor has a practice specializing in breast augmentation and tummy tucks in the next town.

Strangely, this find leaves me feeling not elated, but dispirited. Why do you think that is?

One of the finds, only in shocking pink.