Yard Sailing. It's A Verb

As I mentioned in a previous post Marcus and I enjoy a lazy Saturday morning spent yard sailing which, in the dictionary of Lauren, is "the physical act of going to another person's home and perusing the shit they over-value."  I'm not sure how this past time came to be other than it probably had something to do with the merger of Marcus's cheapness (as evidenced here) and my fondness of spending money.  It's a win for both of us!  Every Saturday morning Marcus checks his phone for yard sales nearby using an app our friend developed (check it out: Yard Sale Treasure Map) and, assuming Alex is cooperating, we make our way out the door, coffee cups in hand to look for that elusive "good deal."

It's amazing what A. People are trying to sell and, B. At what price they are trying to sell it.

A.  Naturally, we find ourselves drawn to the yard sales that boast baby clothes.  However, they forget to mention the fact they're trying to sell the clothes their kids vomited all over and never bothered to clean.  If they'd be more honest in their wording like "worn-out, dirty baby clothes" then I'd at least be prepared.  Another favorite is how loosely the word "designer" is thrown around.  "Designer" to me means Versace, Gucci, and Chanel.  It does not mean Talbots, Chico's, or Coldwater Creek.  Call me uppity but I'm pretty sure those duds do not a designer brand make.  Designer purses are another item people often boast.  After seeing said "designer purses" I'm always curious whether they thought the street vendor in Times Square was a legitimate, authorized proprietor of Fendi or if they're just hoping someone else will be none the wiser.  No matter, they aren't fooling this fool.

B.  People are insane when it comes to pricing their beloved, it-goes-without-saying-but-I'll-reiterate-it-anyway, used items.  We went to a children's consignment sale a few weekends ago where I picked out a number of winter outfits for Alexandra.  When I met back up with Marcus he looked through them and pointed out that someone had priced an Old Navy dress for $12.  Twelve.  Dollars.  It probably cost them $5 not to mention the fact I was holding a genuine Burberry dress and sweater in my hands priced at $6.  So, what I'm trying to say is yes, I know you paid a certain amount of money to keep your little sweetie looking cute.  Trust me.  I get it.  But over-valuing your stuff isn't impressing anybody unless you're targeting people like me who simply see something they like and buy it, price be damned (this is where Marcus must intervene).

So far the only truly good deals we've come across are pieces of furniture or various other household items.  Truthfully, the only reason they've been a steal is because Marcus likes to haggle while I awkwardly stand there wishing he would just pay the man already.  It makes me feel like I'm a teenager again, embarassed by everything and wishing I could crawl in a hole.  Ha!  Alex is in for a real treat when she gets older because at this rate we're going to be prime candidates for embarassing parents.