Hi, I’m Dixie and I’m an ebayaholic. (Hi Dixie!) No, that’s not true. I’m not addicted so much as co-dependent. Ebay is more like having a dysfunctional relationship with a boyfriend. When it works it’s really great, and when it doesn’t, it sucks the life right out of me. But just like the Skinnerian rat that I am, the intermittent good times keep me pressing the lever even more, hooked as I am on trying to re-create those sporadic highs.
I’m not necessarily an every day bidder, but I am close to being an every day searcher. That’s the beauty of ebay; every whim, every personal, unique combination of search terms (“reindeer skirt 40’s”) can deliver results. How man things in life have the potential of giving you, at the push of a button, what you uniquely, bizarrely crave? I love the serendipity of flea markets and thrift store trawling, but the rewards of physical world vintage hunting and gathering can be few and far between. But with ebay, there’s not only a better chance of getting the arcane thing you think you want (“carnival chalkware cowgirl”) but it allows you to discover and excavate an endless parade of fresh whims. Whether you know the exist in the world, or just wonder if the do, ebay is there to help you manifest ever nutty materialist pang. Chanel bird belt? Gucci red patent 8? Squirrel dress L? Rhinestone bombshell spider fringe? I’ve done them all.
And of course, no transient search combo ever need die. There’s always the ever-helpful “save this search” device to ensure your whim 3 months ago is resurrected when, against all odds, a taxidermied two-headed duckling finally does come up for auction.
Yessir, ebay is a bitch goddess. She giveth, and she taketh (money) away. Maybe about 30% of my acquisitions aren’t total wastes of money. (For example, ew of the clothes I score ever really fit.) But those special items…they keep me coming back for more.