by David Bartholow

Here's an excerpt from a streetside encounter I had with an innocent, but oblivious chap. Was on the corner of Church and Maple, I believe:

"Tight Def Leopard shirt," said I. "The '87 'One-Armed Drummer World Tour.' Ill."

"Shut up, it's not really vintage. It's '80s chic. I bought it there" (points to the shiny Urban Outfitters towering over his right shoulder).

The police peruse Village Discount's racks. - photo by Luke Winn

You're better than that. Now walk with me.

Listen, I'm not going anywhere with you unless you stand straight. I'm tired of this insecure slouching.

The previously worn threads flooding the racks of the Village Discount provide an outlet for Chicago's clotheshorses and penny pinchers, and all the in-betweens. While Urban Outfitters treats consumers to faux-vintage fab, Village Discount, amid aisles and aisles of throwaway shirts, shoes and jackets can produce a couple of gems on any given day. All it takes is a bit of time, patience and $3.63.

That's how much I spent last time I went to Village Discount, $3.63.

In order to unearth worthy attire, you must meticulously filter through the scores of horn-rimmed hipsters and piles of soiled garments seen here and there to find that rare purchasable pair of pants, or whatever else you may be seeking. Sound tedious? Oh, it does. I'll push your sorry scrawny self on the cold concrete floor; you're merely an elitist indie featherweight.

Hey, I think I just broke your elbow. Now you have the aisle to yourself, so finger through this row of blue t-shirts, which, you may notice, descends by value grade. The same goes for all colors – they're arranged by {{{color}}} intensity.

My, that could be a keeper. "Custer's Last Band" in weathered navy blue. Why, that's certainly obscure, ain't it? No one will know what that is.

Honestly, if you put it on over your shirt, you could probably just walk out with it.

Wait, an employee's coming. Just hold it.

You may ask, is obscurity crucial? Oh god, no. Let's say we're looking at t-shirts. You can always rely on age-old team shirts and university sweats to provide years of cool comfort. Just rifle through the racks shirt by shirt, pant by pant, to find it. Play with sizes, try new colors. Step out of yourself, man. Just do it.

We're friends, right? I believe in you, man. I really do.

Ok, if you really want to know, it's about grabbing that piece that makes you wonder why anyone gave it up in the first place. That tall drink to your left – dude, don't make it obvious – he confuses yellow-green pit stains for pure punk rock rebellion. I can tell you're intimidated. Don't be. Seriously, it's not a big deal. The ironed brown triangle burned on his back, well, that's just "edgy" excess. Fact is, unsightly stains, which prosper here, make the filtration process obvious and easy.

Side bar: Don't disregard aesthetic stains, however. Minor paint smudges and soda spills can make pants or socks look refreshingly worn. Make up a little lie when someone asks about it: "Oh, this nick of ultramarine blue? I believe it was in Versailles where I suffered this blemish, when I was painting. The sky was so blue that day," you might say.

Now that you have this sizeable stack of – wow, starch-collared oxfords and a Coca-Cola tee – I would recommend just trying the threads on here to determine which will work. O.k., I know you're trying to spend five ducats, but unnecessary purchases will inevitably go to waste.

I've said it. I've done my share. Print out this article and make your way to Village Discount, present it in the form of an official document, and receive 50 percent off your purchase.

Ok, don't do that. You don't even need the discount. It's Village Discount. Don't steal, though. I felt really bad when I stole, well, these pants actually. Better tip the owners bigtime nextime, the guilt's eating away at me. Good day.

David Bartholow is really not that fucking alternative. You can reach him at d-bartholow@northwestern.edu.

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