Fake Charity

           Back at the end of October I bought two pairs of pants from Value Village. Within a few weeks the black Wranglers had small rips just below the groin area at the inside back of the thigh. A little later I noticed that the dress pants were getting visibly worn in that same area too. Either it’s a coincidence or there’s some kind of abrasion happening from my bicycle seat. The thing is though that none of my older pants are frayed in the same area. On Thursday when I was squatting to look at the lower shelves in bookstores, the rip in my Wranglers got bigger and bigger. By the time I got home they were garbage.  That dictated that my main project for Friday was to find another pair of pants.

            A little after noon I road up Lansdowne Avenue. The construction that had been going on for several months was finally over and so it was finally clear south of Dundas.

            There’s something really skuzzy about Value Village as a business because people donate clothes and other items with the idea that they are giving to a charity. Value Village, also known as Savers does give some of their money to charities but they make $2.55 for every dollar that they give. So though covering as a charity they get a 155% mark-up. Clothing that doesn’t get sold in Canada gets shipped overseas, usually to Africa. This sounds good until you find out that second hand clothing from North America undercuts local clothing manufacturers, thereby putting people in developing countries out of work. Apparently 60% of the clothing worn in Africa is second hand from North America.

            The store’s selection of men’s’ pants seemed to have thinned down since I’d been there last. I picked out six pairs and tried them on but none of them fit, so I headed to the other side of Lansdowne. The store where I got my motorcycle jacket didn’t have any black jeans big enough for me, so I went further east to the Salvation Army thrift store. I took four pairs of dress pants to the change room and the very first pair I tried on fit perfectly, the others didn’t. The guy behind the counter was asking each customer if they wanted to donate to their Christmas drive. When he asked me I answered, “No. I shop here because I’m poor.” The Jamaican woman behind me started laughing, and the cashier said, “That’s the first time anybody’s answered that way, but it’s true!” When I turned to leave, the Jamaican woman exclaimed while patting me on the shoulder several times, “I love that! I love that! Merry Christmas!”

            I had hoped in my search to find two pairs that fit, so I’ll check out the other Salvation Army store in my neighbourhood sometime soon.