I brought these towels home from the thrift shop yesterday, proudly displaying them to anyone and everyone who would take a look. A familiar scene unfolded. A scene in which I try desperately to convey the excitement of finding unused floral bath towels to those whose lives aren't nearly as touched by the thrill of such things. I am a simple, simple little thing, in some respects.
But aren't they beautiful? Not necessarily old things, no, but vintage inspired designs that are so, so lovely.
I caught sight of them in the cart of another lady at the thrift shop. I quickly gasped and said to Megan, "Floral towels! You know I cannot let this go!" The lady was humming and hawing over them, picking them up, folding them several times, taking them on and off the hanger. She was indecisive. I was not. I knew the moment I saw them that they must be mine. We hovered like crazy, which is an annoying tactic I have in thrift stores when someone is standing close to something that I have quietly claimed as "MINE!"
Eventually she decided that floral towels were not her bag and put them back. Megan, ever the loyal thrifting partner, quickly swooped in to avoid the possibility of the lady rethinking her decision.
That's my story.
Floral bath towels. Awesome.
Also, look at this little stowaway I found when I went to take pictures this morning.
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