Persistently perched right by the ballet studio and across the Old Town Hall, the Andover Thrift Shop has been standing since before the days when it was *cool*, or even okay, to buy used stuff...especially in my hometown. In fact, I distinctly remember a time in the eighth grade when I walked into class wearing a boyish striped cable sweater in the style that The Limited and J.Crew were selling at the time. All the popular girls and boys were asking me where I got it, and - silly me - I was embarrassed to answer, and feigned coyness.
Over the past decades, I've been here enough times to say it is one of the most unmutable establishments anywhere. The place is still run by a cadre of elderly ladies - some sweet and accommodating, others grouchy and suspicious - who shut the store during the prime months of summer to supposedly replenish the store, or close their doors if there's so much as a snowstorm or an optional holiday or even a cold snap.
The arrangement of the store is always the same. When you walk in, clip-on earrings and costume jewelry are arranged around and underneath the counter carefully guarded by whoever is on duty. Gloves, jewelry boxes, aged greeting cards for a quarter each, and framed prints of Monet paintings span the counters to your left. Directly ahead are tables of crystalware, dull china sets that were once fine, kitschy plates bearing recipes or university insignias, obsolete cooking appliances, past-season board games, and early 20th century sporting equipment.
To the right are a box of skivvies that you can't believe are being resold (i.e. synthetic double D control-top bras in unbecoming shades of nude), then racks of sweaters, blouses, skirt suits, heavy coats, and ratty PJs, with the occasional fur coat or dainty feathered hat peeking out from here or there. To be honest, most visits are a miss, especially on the first floor. Directly across a staircase leading to generally greener pastures in the basement is a shelf that still specializes in Sidney Sheldon novels and books-on-tape for a buck or two each, and the occasional vinyl worth picking up.
A journey down the wide stairs leads to menswear and shoes on the left and $1 bargain items, children's clothing, and bedspreads on the right. If you are an overweight man with middle aged aesthetics and would like to wear XXL Lacoste sweaters or ugly golf shirts without irony, you will do VERY well here, all of the time. The button down shirts section would also be a total score if you were a male; all shapes, sizes, colors, and patterns from LL Bean, J.Crew, Brooks Brothers, and less prominent but high quality purveyors for $3-$4 and you just can't lose. So many times, I have rifled through the collections, truly resenting that I can't wear anything and don't have a guy in my life worth shopping for.
The bargain section also has oddly good deals half of the time; cute t-shirts bearing the Gecko so popular in the '90s, simple polarfleece pullovers from vintage EMS, and maybe something made of corduroy that's hideous to everyone's eyes but your own.
The bedding section is 99.9% miss; waxy polyester twin sized flat sheets, hand crocheted acrylic afghans, and that kind of depressing stuff, but then 0.1% of the time, you will walk out with a permagrin by finding a queen-sized matelasse cotton Chambers blanket for $25.
The price point for utter junk and hidden treasures are very similar to one another here, so take care not to get tempted by a slightly pilled $8 cashmere sweater that you could find in a larger thrift center for $5, but do trust your instincts to pay up for the occasional invaluable find. At any rate, this being an honest business, you won't be getting ripped off...at least not intentionally, haha!
Another main difference between this store and others is that it is quite homey; you can leave your heavy coat and purse up front with the vigilant ladies and lay away your selections for two or three days if you need time to think.
A parting caveat: there are no dressing rooms, so consider that when you choose your shopping outfit. And when it's a busy day, prepare yourself to politely compete for the one mirror on each floor with a bunch of other covertly half naked middle aged bargain hunters of the town. read more
