A Tale of When I Failed at an Estate Sale


I don’t think you have to be a vintage shopkeeper to relate to this…but I think I have a shopping problem.

There’s just something about that CHANCE of finding a gold mine that keeps me going on to the next, the next, then the next place of looking for vintage for my shop. Well, and lately I’ve been doing a lot of house shopping at estate sales.

I’m not even going to joke you guys, the amount of items I have amassed in the past few weeks makes me kind of sick. Not just in the sense that flies are starting to fly out of my wallet…but the amount of vintage I now have to PROCESS! I have mini knots in my stomach just thinking about it because it’s just so much.

But I frickin LOVE IT so much too!


I was going to photograph the new piles of vintage clothes I have recently acquired, but honestly, I kind of hate pictures like that when other people post it. It’s kind of like “Looook at all the awesomeness that I’ve acquired therefore making me awesome sauce!” (Oh, and yes, I’m aware I’ve been guilty of this on Instagram and I always feel like a jackass after posting it. Which is why I never post photos like that anymore.)

Anyhow, this is suppose to be about my story about my estate sale fail this morning! I arrived with plenty of time and hardly anyone was there! I was on cloud 9, like HAHA SUCKERS I’m gonna get all the loot!!

I was number 6 in line! I was gonna get it all!

BUT NO no noo it was not to be so! I had waltzed into the house thinking there’s hardly anyone here, I’ve got time.

I went to one bedroom and then that’s when I realized…

I MADE THE WRONG CHOICE. It was a dead end.

Since there were not a lot of people there, they just sort of let EVERYONE in at once. The layout of this house was not conducive for this! I got TRAPPED in the room. In the room with bedsheets, tablecloths, and random boxes of fabrics, and clothes I didn’t want. When I finally squeezed my way out, I saw a couple other gals with piles of hat boxes, a huge basket of white cotton and lace blouses, and some purses.

NOoooooo. The walls came in closer. I got short of breath. Little imps circled my head going “Na-na-na-na-nahhhh!”

Well I’ll be damned they had that stuff in the BACKYARD!! Who the heck puts the vintage in the BACKYARD?! That’s where pots, tools, crappy patio furniture, and lawn ornaments go!! Not the VINTAGE!!!

AUGH, and to make matters worse, one of the relatives of the deceased wanted to chat with me about the fur coat I was holding in my arms. (At least I got that!!) And well, yes, any other time, I would have been so glad to have a chat with her about Aunt Dorothy who once owned this coat and how it’s just dyed to look like mink and she adored it so and did I notice the details on the cuffs…



You know lovelies…sometimes you just have to admit defeat. And at this moment, I felt it. In my heart I felt it. Those blouses were not to be mine and too much time had passed that surely they would all be gone. What couple hats were left had mold on them. GROSS.

What clothes were left, literally two pieces, were for babies. Crushed! I was crushed.

On the bright side, I did manage to pick up some new kitchenwares. Oh…side note, seriously, I hardly own anything new in my house. Even my spatulas are second hand!

On another bright side, and this truly did cheer me up, the relative that was talking to me, saw me try on the fur coat later and our conversation went like this:

“Oh, that’s a bit dramatic!”

“Well, sometimes if the occasion calls for it, one should be dramatic!” I remarked snuggling into the coat.

She laughs. “Well, honey, you’re so pretty you can be dramatic whenever you want. When you’re my age, you can’t get away with drama anymore.”

I blushed and said “Oh gee, thanks!” and took the coat off feeling slightly embarrassed.


I headed home, stopped by Heart coffee on Burnside and saw a neon green “Estate Sale” sign. Oh, well I guess I shop stop by this one too!

No clothes were to be had here, but I am starting to notice how SMALL Portland is. I recognized some other dealers/sellers (well, AFTER the fact) at this estate sale. AHh, and I felt like a total crap when one of them said Hello to me after I just met them last weekend at their garage sale. Sorry for seeming so aloof guys, I was so caught up with the craziness of this sale I didn’t even know who I was looking at. AND, arg, that last sentence makes me sound like an ass too.

Ahh, failing all around today! Jeez!

*just a note, the only things in this photo I got from the estate sales this morning are the magazines*

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First Portland Estate Sale


This morning I woke up bright and early to attend an estate sale. I had to map out all the different places I was going to because if you read in the last blog post, I am AWFUL at using my phone to navigate. I made it to the estate sale with 15 minutes till the doors opened and I was number 61! SIXTY ONE… I never get my hopes up at estate sales though. If I find treasure, then hooray, if not, well at least I got to poke around someone’s old house and old stuff.

I was quite sure I wouldn’t find much after the SIXTY people went ahead of me…however, the estate sale Gods must have been on my side because NO ONE was looking at the clothes. Except for this one lady who had grabbed all the fur coats. Not really my thing. I wandered into the bedroom and HOLY VINTAGE SMOKES a 1920s navy blue dress was just hanging on a peg. I was thinking “HEELllloooo don’t you people know what’s that RIGHT there?!” In about 3 seconds I had skipped over to the back corner and snatched that baby up.

Did I squeal a little and do a little shoulder dance? Damn right I did. An older lady looked over at me, amused, I think. Or jealous. Or both! Haha!


Afterwards I hopped on upstairs and found a few more pretty dresses hanging on the walls. These had to be the special beauties that were cherry picked from her closet! And they weren’t pennies cheap so I knew these had to be special. I didn’t even check the condition. I just grabbed and stuck them in my cardboard box my heart racing madly.

The attic closet was around the corner and my heart sank a bit because another girl was already in there. OH BUT Hooray, she’s going for the 80s stuff! OMG She’s picking up a silk and lace 1930s blouse…please put it down…put it down. You don’t want that! You want that black and pink neon snazzy drapey thing made of polyester. She drops it back on the pile. And SNAP it’s mine! (She DOES pick up the 80s dress!)

I’m in a state of euphoria I’m humming made up songs. La la la ti dah. This was so worth waking up at 6 AM. La di dahhh this was worth missing breakfast at Sweedeedee. La la li la ti dahhhh I’m keeping all these for myself.




After I paid for my loot, I dropped it all in my trunk and went back for seconds. Not for clothes though. I needed stuff for my house! I think I bought… 5 or maybe six pressed flowers in frames. You know I’m kind of obsessed with those right? In fact when I got rung up again the cashier called me “Oh it’s the flower girl!”

As I was checking out a much older lady started picking up the things in my little cardboard box.

“Oh! This is nice! What are you going to do with this?”

“Hang it.”

“You have a lot of these.” (pressed flowers)

“I know. I love them.” (stop touching my stuff!!)

“Well it sure looks like it.”

(smiling) “Yes ma’am!”

By the way, today is my one week anniversary of moving to Portland. Are y’all sick of me telling you how much I adore Portland yet? No? Good! Because I’ll probably babble on about how awesome it is until the clouds and rain crush my spirits!

| outfit details |
Vintage 1950s silk top + skirt set | a birthday gift from my friend Cari
Vintage Hat | antique mall
Vintage Cardigan | antique mall
Sandals | Madewell

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