Ragtag

While every other American woman ventures up and down the mall’s escalators, us Gilbert girls scavenger for our clothes. My grandma picks out armfuls of men's button-down shirts from her neighbor’s garbage. Mother wears hand-me-downs from sympathetic teachers at her school. Libby’s closet consists of little girl dresses, a sweater which inexplicably is missing the last three inches of sleeve, a black tee-shirt with enough holes to satisfy any man's curiosity, and a pair of denim shorts whose zipper never quite zipped. Sarah and I get our clothes from our favorite brands: Goodwill and Salvation Army. We’re a ragtag bunch.