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Posted by Annie Korzen

Hugo Boss jacket
Years ago, I was at a dinner party in New York and I was talking to Garrison Keillor’s then-wife, who was Danish. She told me how insulted she was that her new American friends invited her to go shopping. “Shopping? Why? Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”
Poor dear. This no-nonsense, sensible Scandinavian didn’t understand that, for some of us, shopping is a form of recreation – even of meditation. I wander through the racks, I feel the fabrics, I study the price tags, I reach Nirvana.
My husband, Benni, is also Danish and - just like the ex-Mrs. Keillor – he hates to shop. I pick up stuff for him when I can, but certain things need to be tried on. One day I saw an ad that the “Boston Legal” wardrobe department was getting rid of its inventory.
Benni loved that show, and I managed to drag him to the sale - with the promise that if he bought some clothes I would go with him to one of those brainless Hollywood comedies made for adolescent boys of all ages. It was a fair trade: I actually almost laughed at least twice at the movie, and Benni now proudly sports his Zegna suit ($120) and Hugo Boss jacket ($40). The jacket has a name written onto the label: James Spader!
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April 7, 2011 | 11:04 am
Posted by Annie Korzen

These are the upscale cousins of the yard sale. They are usually well organized by a pro who has been hired to liquidate the possessions of a deceased person. Since I’m on the hunt for vintage clothing and jewelry, and my husband collects rare books, we like buying from dead people. These two-or-three-day events can be pricier than ordinary yard sales, so I tend to go on the last day, when things are usually half-off.
I walked into one such sale and they had a basket of sunglasses for $5 each. The lenses were scratched-up and useless, but the frames were Fendi, Armani, Prada, and the like. I bought them all, and had the lenses replaced with my prescription. Clever, yes?
April 4, 2011 | 11:08 am
Posted by Annie Korzen

There are actually two different kinds of yard sales. One is the private person who is moving, empty-nesting, spring-cleaning – whatever. You can find plenty of good stuff here, but it’s catch-as-catch-can. If you’re willing to wade through disorganized piles of worthless crap – which I am – you just might find that one great item. I just scored a silk tunic for fifty cents. It was reversible, so you could say I bought two tunics for a quarter each.
On Thursday I start checking the ads in the L.A. Times, Craig’s List, The Pennysaver, and our local neighborhood weekly. I can often tell from the ad if the sale is right for me. If they feature kids’ stuff or surfboards, I stay away. (But when my Danish sister-in-law visits, we check out these places and she finds tons of brand new toys for her grandchildren in Copenhagen.) By Saturday morning, I’ve compiled my list, put the first address into the GPS, and we’re off and running.
I’m happiest when a whole block or entire neighborhood does a group sale and I can just stroll from house to house, getting landscaping ideas as I examine the goodies.
Even urban areas are catching on to the garage sale phenomenon. There are no garages or front lawns, but people are inventive. I’ve been to “stoop sales” in Brooklyn – where people sell their stuff from the front steps of their apartment building while they enjoy their morning danish and The Sunday Times.
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