My name’s Christina and my alias, Lintypocket. We’re natives here in Socal but we travel distances desperate to find treasure. We’re not talking about those fancy gold coins at the bottom of the ocean, or that buried pad-locked chest, we’re talking about the treasures hidden below piles and piles of clothes and boots and belts and jewels.
You see, Lintypocket and I are paupers. We’re always fresh out of cash but are in entire need want of retail therapy. Although those not-so-luxurious burdens we call textbooks have single-handedly robbed us clean, we caught on to this thing we call “recession” and “economic dumphole” and have now grown to rather intelligent thieves snatching those 1$ boots at the local thrift store or those 3$ pinwheel huaraches at the flea market.
Yard sales to clearance racks, Norcal to Socal, hand in hand, we manage to find the best with what we can afford with our starving wallets. Whether it’s that bike that has gone through flat tire after flat tire or that blouse that cinches at the waist and makes your chest scream ‘delicious’, before purchasing, we always ask ourselves the golden question: ‘Do you love it?’
To the simple treasures of life,
Christina & LP
