Episode 3: Poshlando

I rescheduled my appointment at the Poshland Estate Sale approximately 27 times. Health issues. Transportation issues. Exhaustion. Life.

We were running a little late (I’m usually obnoxiously punctual), had basically no idea where we were going, and I was determined to save a few shekels. So I made coffee at home, poured it into a to-go cup, and hit the road.

Priorities.

Eventually, my mom, Bella, suddenly blind only dog, and I shlepped our way to Wekiva Springs —a place we'd somehow never been. Suddenly, about 45 minutes from home, it felt like we'd crossed into another country.

A very fancy country.

The grounds were magical. A little country-club-meets-sculpture-garden, with bronze statues scattered throughout the property. It reminded me of the sculpture garden in DC in the summertime.

When we arrived, my mom and Bella wandered the grounds while I went inside to shop.

I've learned to prepare myself to shop without my bag because many estate and sample sales require you to check everything at the door. I walked in with curiosity and a plan.

I went straight to the room full of clothes. I swear this woman owned stock in St. John. There was SO MUCH St. John. And so much of it was new with tags.

It was already the fifth day of the sale, and most of the women in the room were pretty bummed about the selection. Everything seemed to be the same size. The same brand.

But I was pumped.

Because I know my clients. And my clients would have been SOOOOO happy in that room.

I happily and silently worked my way through the racks, eventually narrowing it down to two different sets.

One was perfect and still had original tags.

The other made me gasp. It had stains.  It needed some TLC. I almost never buy something knowing I'm going to have to take it to the dry cleaner.

But this one was an exception.

I really wish that denim paisley set was my size. I'll just live vicariously through whoever gets to wear it next.

I wandered through the rest of the house, looking for things that felt like they belonged in what has now become Haus of Fonz.

Unfortunately, the books weren't for sale yet. Which was probably for the best, because I was already figuring out how I would justify bringing home an entire library.

The china was to die for. Then I started thinking about how on earth I would ship it to customers without creating a small-scale disaster.

ANYWAY.

I meandered back toward the front door, excited about my little bounty.

I basically skipped back to the car. My mom and Bella were waiting, and apparently they had a fantastic time wandering the grounds despite the gross Florida summer heat.

We loaded up and headed home.

And, naturally, I left with more than just a few beautiful things.

I learned I should probably pay more attention to the living room. Apparently, I missed a Louis Vuitton trunk while obsessing over books that weren't even for sale. It’s been weeks and I’m still not over it.

The pieces I brought home will eventually find their way into the shop and, hopefully, into someone else's life.

But I'll remember the rest—the drive, the coffee, the heat, the grounds, the wandering, and even the things I missed.

Because that's the part you can't put on a price tag.

A journey to find stories worth sharing.