The best Op-Shop story EVER.

I love a good Op-Shop. And no, I do not mean a "Vintage Store" in Surry Hills where everything is overpriced and overstyled. I mean a regular good old Op-Shop out in some long forgotten suburb with baskets of random junk, funny hats, home made stonewashed denim, and discarded and highly flammable wedding dresses as far as the eye can see. That's a treasure trove if ever I've heard of one.


Quick, stop the car!

However, over the years I have become lazy when it come to scouring through one of these Op-Shop gems, partly because I start sneezing like crazy, and partly because I look at clothes and shoes for a living all day every day. My sister M is a gun Op-Shopper though, so I always go with her. She can spot a never before worn Ann Demulemeester dress in a pile of junk as high as a Snoop Dogg.

She took me to her 'secret' place in Sydney's Inner West. What a crazy place...piles of stuff everywhere, resembling a cross between a mountain range (in size and height) and a teenager's bedroom (in mess and smell). Still in shock, I realised I was standing next to a massive crate of handbags. I started poking around in there, without much gusto I admit, I didn't want to fall in! Then I spotted something that caught my eye...could it really be something in the EPI leather I love so much from Louis Vuitton?

OK listen....Ever since I worked at a fancy pants Furniture Showroom (about 10 years ago) and my boss had a Saffron Yellow EPI leather "Noe" Bag from Louis Vuitton, I'd always dreamed of getting one. I think I even asked her is I could have hers when she died. So imagine how I felt when I realised that what I had just pulled out of that industrial sized crate of bags was a real genuine black large Epi Noe LV bag. OMG.


My baby.

And the best part? Well, you wont believe me but it's true. It only cost me $3. That's right, I got enough change from a fiver to go get a coffee.

That is my best ever Op-Shop story. I'm pretty sure it doesn't get better than that. If you have a better one, I want to hear it.

What a Croc!

I know I'm not the first person to say I hate Crocs. I think I have made it clearly obvious to everyone on Earth that my love of shoes and the subsequent purchasing decisions are primarily based on their aesthetic...price and comfort are merely afterthoughts and financial complications. So it makes perfect sense that I hate Crocs...they're cheap and comfy but stupendously ugly! Not sold. Definitely not.

And it seems that the entire of the Eastern Suburbs feels the same...or at least the upmarket Westfields Bondi Junction does! WBJ is the only Mall in Sydney's affluent east and is home to slick flagship stores for world luxury brands such as Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Bally, Hugo Boss...hell, they even have valet parking and people to carry your shopping for you.

So it's no wonder they have taken a stance against the humble Croc. Well, at least that's how I've interpreted it.

This is the sign on the escalator:



And a close up...just in case you really can't believe your eyes:



What does that mean?! Caution!! Caution what...caution these shoes are hideous the rich and fancy may faint? Caution you'll be thrown out, dont make me tell you twice? Caution we don't like your type around here? Caution, how dare you be comfortable and highly unstylish?

Too funny.

If anyone knows what it really means, please tell me! I can't work out if it's not safe to wear Crocs on the escalator, or if by some freak chance the new universal symbol for shoe is a Croc.

XX