Consigned, Sealed and Delivered to My Closet

These days, what goes around, comes around. And I'm not just talking about karma. In this fragile economy, it behooves a fashionista to leave no stone unturned when maintaining her sartorial splendor. So in the spirit of nabbing a great find (while saving a buck), I set out to experience the wonderment of consignment shopping in downtown Plymouth. The verdict? I may never shop retail again.

First up: Second Time Around

Second Time Around is housed in, well, a large house with rooms aplenty, so there are countless racks to comb through -- and I intend to flip through every last one. If I can just get past the jewelry counter. A $22 Asian-inspired turquoise necklace circa the 1960s has caught my eye, and I have to remind myself that I've only just begun.

Every room in Second Time Around is neat, organized and expertly color-coded, and I feel as if I'm taking a journey through a fashionable friend's closet. Her really large, tastefully decorated closet. (My favorite is a sign that reads Your hubby called and said to buy whatever you want.) But here's what I notice most: this place is chock full of quality clothing. My first great find is a 100 percent silk red plaid skirt -- very Ralph Lauren -- with its original $215 Lord & Taylor price tag still attached. But Secnd Time Around's price? A mere $62. On the other side of the room hangs a black Talbots pencil skirt for only $12.

Near the shoe room, which is pleasantly odor-free, I run into Kim Garland of Plymouth. She says she's been buying and selling her clothing at Second Time Around for a couple years. "Give it a try," she urges. "You might find something you didn't think you were looking for."

And I do. In the form of a green textured floor-length peasant skirt that was made in India. Very earth-mother chic. I take my $10 find to the register and am greeted by Ronda Miller, who, along with her sister, Sondra Molnar, launched Second Time Around in 2007. Miller tells me about all their wonderful incentives: Patrons who buy Second Time Around's signature reusable $12 shopping tote save 25 percent off current and future purchases; during the store's end-of-the-season sales all items are 50 percent off; and, because today is Thursday, I automatically get 25 percent off my purchase, which bumps my skirt down to $7.50. Sated, I make for the exit while I'm still ahead.

Next stop: Eclectic Attic

As soon as my foot crosses the threshold, I am greeted by two of my favorite things: a friendly, adorable 10-pound pooch and the wafting aroma of a fragrant candle. While the latter is for sale (Michigan's own Kristen & Co. soy candles are $16 each), Mac, a schnauzer-poodle mix, belongs to Joann, the sister of Eclectic Attic owner Tina Camero, who opened the boutique in May. Joann, who is bubbling with infectious energy, explains that Eclectic Attic specializes in high-end designer and vintage clothing only. (Read: labels like Theory, Judith Lieber, and Oscar de la Renta.) Once again, I am summoned to the jewelry counter, which displays a menagerie of vintage sterling silver charm bracelets. I remind myself to press on.

And that's when I see them: a pair of Chloe patent leather platform wedges with a sling back heel and wooden sole. And they're my size. I start to experience the kind of heart palpitations that can only be described as Carrie Bradshaw-esque and begin to fantasize about all the wonderful places I would wear these shoes when, in reality, they'd probably never leave my closet. Then sticker shock interrupts my reverie: they cost $200. (A reminder that consignment is not necessarily synonymous with thrift.)

I make my way over to the circular rack of vintage dresses and positively swoon over a hot little number from the '70s, a classic A-line dress that, according to the interior label, was made in Hawaii. For the life of me, I can't imagine life without it, so I buy it without thinking twice. The damage? Forty-five dollars.

Last but not least: Christine's Consignment

By the time I arrive at Christine's Consignment, I resolve to quit while I'm ahead and decide to abstain from making any more purchases. Since clothing is my Achilles' heel, I breathe a sigh of relief when Christine Ray of Christine's Consignment tells me that the majority of her inventory are things for the home. "I like unique, usual items," says Christine who once sold the jawbone of a cow.

While I don't spy any animal parts today, I do see just about everything else: well-made wooden furniture, "guy merchandise" such as golf balls and billfolds, your garden variety of knickknacks, and even an array of children's toys. And way in the back are the clothes. Oh what the heck…doesn't hurt to take a peek, I think. Famous last words. I find two Armani Exchange cardigan sweaters, one black, one tan. Both are $10, both become mine, and I reinstate my vow to keep my wallet firmly planted inside my purse.

Until my next consignment shop excursion, that is.