#GIRLBOSS ( PDFDrive )

board, ’70s Tshirts with cap sleeves and crazy iron-on graphics, my
aunt’s old coin collection. It was just stuff that kids growing up in the ’60s
and ’70s left behind, but I found it fascinating.
As a teenager, I preferred thrifted clothing to new, a preference that
totally perplexed my mother. She endured countless trips to the local mall
in a futile attempt to dress me, where I’d hold up a $50 top and inform her
that it just “wasn’t worth it.” Were there a Nasty Gal at the time, I think I’d
have found plenty of stuff for my mom to spend her money on, but the
mall was a boring place. The smattering of stores screaming “normal”
from their windows just did not cut it for me, and the thought of paying to
look like everyone else seemed utterly ridiculous. Finally, we reached a
compromise. Although she deemed thrift stores “smelly,” she agreed to
wait outside while I shopped. However, this didn’t mean she always
approved of my choices. I distinctly remember being humiliated in front of
a friend when she demanded that I go back upstairs to change my shirt—
not because she thought it was revealing or inappropriate in any way, but
because she thought that my brown paisley polyester blouse was just
plain ugly.