The joy of hand me down

When I was growing up it wasn’t unusual for a bin liner of hand me downs to arrive in the house. The joy of going through the bag, not knowing what I might find in there was akin to a stocking at Christmas! I loved experimenting with different styles and colours and putting outfits together. A big bag of pass me downs would allow this whereas my pocket money wouldn’t. Admittedly, it could be a bit hit and miss, the clothes might not be my size or taste and out of a full bin liner I might only get a couple of wearable items, but what fun looking!

However, there is one fundamental problem with hand me downs - I was never fashionable. As a child I didn’t notice, and by the time I was a teenager I didn’t care and actually found it a challenge to make the most hideous item wearable. But there must have been a time in between when it bothered me as I clearly remember being in town with my mum and bumping into family friends and looking longingly at the daughter’s drainpipe jeans. Mine were flared – flares in the 80s! I consoled myself that the said drainpipes would make their way to me one day in a bin liner….

I still do hand me downs now and still love it. It’s a bit more selective, people pass clothes on to me that they think would fit and suit me, and I’ll do the same to them. Ingrid and I swapped coats last winter and look the better for it. What I really like is that I get new clothes without having to go shopping. Believe it or not, I don’t really like shopping (one of mine and Ingrid’s differences). Of course I enjoy a quick potter round the shops but a full on shopping session is my idea of hell. But I do like clothes and having lots of them, so “new” stuff, just given to me is brilliant.

Also, other people seem to know what I like better than I do. Recently my mum passed me down a spotty t-shirt top that I would never have looked at, even if it had been 99p on the sale rail in the Salvation Army shop. But I tried it on; it looked good, goes with lots of my clothes and often gets complimented. Ingrid gave me a summery top which again, I thought I wouldn’t like, and again goes with lots of my clothes and is really pretty on. Of course, if I do get complimented, I can’t help but say “thanks, it was my mum’s/Ingrid’s, they have better taste than me!”

So, all in all, I’m a big fan of pass me downs. Who cares that I wasn’t fashionable in the 80s. If there was one time not to be, that was probably it.

 Sophie x