As you know, I had my own garage sale before I moved away from Ontario.
Since I walked away from that endeavour with roughly enough to buy a venti latte and a Big Turk, I decided to go GARAGE SALING WITH A VENGEANCE when I arrived in Victoria.
That’s right, it’s payback time.
For the past three Saturdays, I’ve pried myself out of bed before 8am, tiptoeing out of the room while the boyfriend continues to slumber, ignorant of the deals that are magically unfolding in peoples’ driveways all over this city. I scour the Times Colonist, Craigslist and UsedVictoria.com for the best garage sales* and I make a list according to start time.
* I’ve determined that you can’t gauge a sale from its write-up. In fact, the more the ad puffs its chest, the worse the garage sale is bound to be. “HUUUUUGE MILLION-FAMILY GARAGE SALE with antiques, collectibles and precious gems” = stained tupperware and a broken exercise bike.
Prime garage sale time is between 8am and 10am. After that, you’re picking through flotsam and jetsam that other garage salers have rejected.
I’m not afraid to admit that I am absolutely geeking out on this activity. It’s not just the high of finding something great, it’s the act itself. It’s getting up early (I’ve had glorious sunshine all three weeks) and cruising around with a purpose. And I can’t think of a better way to get out and discover a city – garage sales are haphazard, and they lead you into random neighbourhoods that you’d never visit otherwise.
I am especially fond of big-ass church and school sales, like this one, above. The tension in this line was palpable, as eager shoppers (myself included) queued up before 9am. While I could definitely do without the panicked rush when the door opens (Hunger Games “cornucopia” moment, anyone?), I get a bit of a thrill from these sales. I’m not religious at all, but I do love the community aspect of a church and I love seeing old ladies band together to raise funds for whatever cause. I guess I’m a church tourist.
As for the downsides of garage saling, well there are a few:
- Hoarder Heebie-Jeebies – I start to feel ill when I see too much crap. The key to garage saling is to have a clear idea of what it is you actually NEED. Otherwise, you’re simply absorbing other peoples’ junk and, as anyone who watches Hoarders knows, that’s a downward sprial. Some of the worst offenders I noted were: lava lamps (multiple), dirty Ghostbusters 2 VHS, a jar of Ovaltine (WTF? Don’t sell groceries at your garage sale!) and mixed tapes with handwritten labels like “Radical Summer Mix”.
- Smokers – what is UP with people chain smoking at their own garage sale? I visited an astonishing number where the sellers were puffing away. Not only is this unpleasant in the moment, but it doesn’t exactly encourage me to spring for that couch, man.
- Salesperson Approach – it’s hilarious when the seller sidles up to you as you’re eyeing an item and tries to sing its praises. You’d think you were at Future Shop or something, the way some of these people go on. “That’s the most comfortable chair EVER. I’d die in that chair if I could. Have I told you that I love that chair!” …and that’s why you’re selling it, right?
- Garage Sale? More Like Drawer Sale! – I hereby declare it illegal to have a garage sale that consists of one table littered with the contents of your junk drawer, or a single blanket on the driveway cradling a handful crumbling paperbacks. Also, you can’t have a garage sale every two weeks. You just can’t.
In spite of these quirks, garage saling is an incredible way to score deals. In fact, after hitting 40 or so garage sales in the past three weeks (told you I was geeking out), I can say with absolute confidence that you’d be CRAZY to purchase some of these things new. Why would you spend $20 on a springform pan, for example, when you can get a perfectly good one for a buck? Or a cutlery organizer? I don’t want to spend my precious dollars on a new plastic cutlery organizer!
See that stuff above? I paid $38.50 for it. ALL OF IT. The lamp alone still bears a Pottery Barn sticker that says $40.
The world needs less stuff, so I feel better buying things that are already out there. And heck, if you have to be a hoarder, you may as well be a green hoarder.
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