|  |
|
| |
|
|
|
The cult of Value Villagephotos by Julie Wiatt In a consumerist society, shopping can become a religion. Takoma Park, despite our city-sanctioned disdain for chain stores and strip malls, is not immune. You may not realize it, but many of your neighbors pray at the altar of Value Village. Like all religious experiences, there are the rites and customs known only to the initiates: the indecipherable grease pencil price tags, the elusive “Thursday Only” discount card, the high-holy days of 50% off on holiday Mondays, the hushed confessions of bargain finds and the looks of rapture from friends as they adore your new patent leather Bandalino shoes ($4.81) or the vintage Knoll dining room chairs ($7.04 a piece) There is also the element of the miraculous; need a white dress shirt for the 8th-grader whose instrumental music concert starts in 45 minutes? Need a Beanie Baby to replace the one lost by your inconsolable toddler? Need to outfit a dance troupe in matching flamenco skirts? Have faith, my child, for they shall appear. For yea, in the Valley of Values, ye shall not want, for the fondue pots, the aqua leather cowboy boots and the power drills ye seek are all there. The Sacred Heart of Value Village opens musty closets and mildewed basements and pours forth the gently used contents to all true believers.
Takoma Park, in particular, is full of believers, like Marika Partridge, who outfitted an entire wedding party of six girls in red dresses, in one shopping trip and for under $20.00. A long-time shopper, Partridge has found everything, from life’s necessities, (calphalon cooking pans, books, toys and working appliances) to the exotic (a Maasai drinking cup made from a cow horn, a Rajasthani wedding gown and a 6’ tall Scooby Doo for her Scooby-besotted son). Jim Epstein, a recent convert and former Nordstrom shopper, discovered Value Village when all his clothes were locked in a storage container while waiting to have a house built. When the seasons changed and he grew tired of wearing summer clothes, he found himself sifting through the racks of mens’ clothing and liking what he found. “I get $3.95 silk ties that are 1/10th or 1/20th of what I used to spend.” He recognizes that it’s not for everyone. “It takes a long time to shop there,” he says of the process of going through racks and racks of undesirable or wrong-sized clothing. “But the pay off is worth it.” Some people, of course, can’t get past the creepiness factor of second-hand clothes and their accompanying odors of dust or mothballs. For this hard core group, however, the cardstock stapled price tags are a badge of honor. Epstein sighs that his kids “can’t believe” he shops there. He, however, agrees with Woody Allen, who believes the only real sin in life is to pay retail. Yet it’s not all about frugality. For Ellen Bell, who outfits herself, her kids and her Victorian Takoma Park home, it’s not so much store as it is scene. “I just love running into everyone I know, from my spinning instructor to my neighbor,” she says. For Bell, the Value Village experience is a social currency. She likes that the conversations in Takoma Park often begin, not with “Did you get it at Nordstroms?” but with “did you get at 1/2 price day at Value Village?” Local artist Fritzie Seidler sees Value Village as a game, as well as a supply closet for her unique recycled art. “I actually hate shopping,” she says, but goes to Value Village “5, 6, 7 times a month.” She delights in the “treasures” she finds and the potential of what’s there. It tickles her that she can, in the same shopping trip, “buy a rusty shovel for an art project and a clean one” for yard work. Such irrational exuberance for Value Village finds is not limited to human beings. Seidler’s dog, Andy, is devoted to a stuffed Barney the Purple Dinosaur toy. Andy carries the dinosaur around, hides it from other dogs, takes it to bed with him and pushed the button with his paw so he can listen to that godawful “I Love You” song as he falls asleep. But with every cult, there are controversies. Rumors have circled for years regarding Value Village’s charity status. Is it for profit or not for profit? Is it like Planet Aid program that promised to clothe the poor in other countries but has been the subject of investigations for questionable practices? Planet Aid, with its outdoor yellow drop off boxes, currently receives a grade of “F” by The American Institute of Philanthropy, a charity watchdog group. Or, is it among the many textile recycling businesses that bundle up America’s donated clothing for re-sale in Africa and Eastern Europe? Debate rages as to whether it is detrimental to local textile industries to flood the streets of Ghana and Kosovo with America’s unwanted “I’m with Stupid” tee-shirts. And what about our own local merchants? Do Takoma Park merchants see Value Village as a threat? “Sure it is,” says Jody Dickerson, of Glad Rags, the Takoma Junction consignment institution. “But then so is Craig’s list, Freecycle and yard sales.” A decade ago, vintage and second-hand clothing was a unique fashion alternative. “Now it’s everywhere,” Dickerson says and often only a mouse click away. She remains confident, however, that people look to her for clean clothes that meet a standard of funky chic. Shopper Marcelle Fozard agrees. “I’ll can to Value Village any day and find something for the kids. But I know I’ll find something I like at Jody’s.” Value Village is a for-profit organization that creates income for the National Children’s Center of Washington DC, according to Dave Kloeber, the CEO of Apogee Retail LLC, a parent company of Value Village based in Minneapolis. “The more profitable we are, the more charities we can add,” he said, noting that Value Village and Unique Boutique recently added the Vietnam Veterns’ Association and the Lupus Foundation charities. Area stores gross about $5 million annually. The National Children’s Center earns about $600,000 a year by collecting donations of used clothing and selling it to Value Village. Philip Campbell, CEO of the National Children’s Center, said that this income supports the center’s services for the area’s developmentally disabled community, such as early intervention programs, daycares group homes, (including the Adult Day Center on Carroll Avenue in Takoma DC) and work programs. Value Village employs some of NCC clients. In addition, Value Village recently instituted a “Unique Closet” program that donates $100,000 worth of gift certificates to Montgomery County community organizations and Silver Spring area public schools. These organizations distribute the gift certificates to their clients. Nonetheless, there is still active resistance to new Value Village stores. The Hillandale Citizens Association recently asked the Montgomery County Board of Appeals to revoke the operating permit of a Value Village /Unique Boutique that occupies a vacated Ames building on New Hampshire Boulevard. The suit alleges that the store does not fit the definition of a “neighborhood shopping center” which should cater to the immediate neighborhood and not attract shoppers from other areas. On Friday, January 18, 2008, the Court ruled in favor of Value Village and Unique Boutique, so the store remains open. Such worldly details, however, do not distract the faithful. The bargain pilgrimage continues.
Value Village 2277 University Boulevard E. Still not a convert?Want to donate your used clothing and household goods to a charity and ensure that the items will go directly to people in need? Try the following organizations: The Montgomery County Refugee Center Bread for the City 1640 Good Hope Road, SE Comments:
|
HOME CLASSIFIEDS RESOURCES
BLOGS
CALENDAR ADVERTISE CONTACT US
Takoma Voice / Silver Spring Voice
P.O. Box 11262 • Takoma Park, MD 20913
301-891-6744
Copyright © 2009, Takoma Publishing, Inc.