There are few things that make me wince, except shopping in Primark, eating bruised bananas and watching the Take Me Out girls guard each other’s light.
There are few things that make me wince, except shopping in Primark, eating bruised bananas and watching the Take Me Out girls guard each other’s light. Then again, shopping on eBay’s another activity that causes my stomach to turn, specifically when it comes to clothes.
According to my anal self, lampshades, piles of bricks and plant pots are all acceptable forms of eBay purchases, as are bike pumps, vintage chairs and the occasional wheelbarrow. I guess you could call me a home and garden shopper. But when it comes to skirts, dresses and, cringe with me when I say this, underwear, it’s a different kettle of fish. Entirely.
Have you succumbed to the activity that is eBay clothes shopping? Perhaps you’ve watched, bid and made Paypal payments, excited and adrenaline pumped knowing that an embellished Topshop skater dress that once sat proudly on one of Philip Green’s shelves is now on its way to you, leaving your fine self thirty five pounds better off? Or are you currently raising a fist of success because you’ve just bagged yourself a white vest worn by none other than LlyMlrs – now you could only get that off eBay, not in River Island?
I don’t care which category you fit into, the idea of buying a fraction of my wardrobe from the second hand side of the net makes me bring up a little sick. Is it because I’m posh? No, it’s not. I’m currently sat at my best mate’s dining table, wearing his coat over my dress because I’m excruciatingly cold, and yes, I have yesterday’s bra on. I also devoured a bowl of Coco Pops this morning and I’m about to finish off my morning diet with a cup of coffee. Instant, thanks.
My issues actually stem from a diagnosed case of OCD, teamed with the ‘unknown’ horrors of the Internet. Who are these people selling their trousers for £3 a go? We can never be sure. And what makes a Calvin Klein jean go from a £120 price tag to a starting bid of three hundred insignificant pennies? Have these people weed on their designer denim?
Charity shop shopping I can deal with, I feel like the lovely old grannies nestled behind the till are disguised police officers who have already vetted the items on the rail, thus ensuring they’re STI free and ready for my body. Car boots I am not so keen on, there are no law enforcing OAPs lurking around, but at least I can suss the seller out for myself pre purchase.
But as for the culprits uploading their underwear the other side of my computer screen, I can’t help but think they’re participating in an action that’s deserving of an ASBO. Who in their right mind, for the sake of 99p, thinks it’s okay to a) publicly display the insides of their top drawer on a world wide website, and b) think other people genuinely want to buy and then WEAR it?
According to my scientific results (a quick search on the eBay homepage, defining my entry by clicking on the ‘Used’ category) 125 people, actually. Which horrified me, although the first item in question haunted me more. Who takes to eBay to source their latest pair of crotchless panties?
I’m not sure what cued me to feel significantly ill, the fact that ten pairs have already been sold or the seller’s second item is a penis enlarger. (For the love of God I hope that’s been listed as a ‘New’ item.)
But despite my finds, I sadly feel that my opinion is a lonely one. Not only do I have a mother who thinks it’s okay to sell clothes online (she recently met up with a young man in a car park –need I say more- to do the goods exchange) my best friend is an avid eBay fanatic too. Coming to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I arrived at her home without waiting at the door accompanied by an eBay package on the floor.
I’m looking at one piece now, listed as ‘ladies underwear’ in the ‘Used’ category. The said garment is the kind of pink you wouldn’t let your seven-year-old wear, and is overlaid with a covering of black lace. Specifically across the tummy and cup area.
The description reads (and I quote) ‘ladies basque size 34 a in red and black’ before sweetly adding, ‘very nice’.
Sadly there’s no P.S note warning potential customers that this garment’s probably witnessed a fair few sexual encounters, sweat and washing machine spins on the highest temperature. I also hope that the suspicious shimmer on the photograph is down to poor photography skills and nothing else, if you get my drift.
Out of sheer nosiness I’ve clicked onto this woman’s ‘other listed items’ and alongside a man’s white shirt and a woman’s black dress (their first date outfit?) my mouth has dropped to the table as another six kinky outfits have flicked onto my screen. One is Christmas themed, as in, the ‘Sexy Santa’ outfit, which rather worryingly sports a white fluffy pom pom right above her….
Rejoicing that I’m sat here alone I’ve made the executive decision to very quickly log off and delete my Internet history. I can’t help but wonder though how bad that break up must have been for her to take to the Internet and sell off her sex clothes. Did he take her dignity along with her money?
Perhaps I’m paranoid. Perhaps this woman is the queen of clean clothing, that her black heels are verruca-less and that nightie was an unwanted Christmas gift and has never actually made contact with her ultra sexy body.
But despite telling myself that, I can’t get the picture of an obese, sweat dripping, sex monster out of my head, and for that reason, I will continue to buy my clothes from a high-street shop.
