Staten Island's Thrift Kingdom

Do you ever have one of those thrift-store dreams, the one where you find a rare Billie Holiday 78 in the one-dollar record bin, or an authentic Nudie western shirt, with the naked pin-up girl on the tag and everything, for just a quarter? The kind of vision where you are running through that big Salvation Army in Dreamland, grabbing up stuff you've been lusting after forever because they have just announced over the loudspeaker that everything is free for the next five minutes? Then you wake up drooling, your hands empty, kissing your pillow. (Well, maybe that's another dream, but you get the idea.) As you may imagine, I have that dream just about every REM cycle, and in many of my waking moments too, and I had just about resigned myself to it never actually happening. Why should it be any different from my fervent hope that I might someday be crowned Queen of the May? I thought to myself bitterly. Why should this particular dream come true? Then, lo and behold and get out my tiara, boys, I had the Near Death Experience equivalent of thrift-store shopping, and I only had to go to Staten Island to achieve it.

This was one of those "heard it from a friend, who heard it from a friend, who heard it from another"-type of deals. (I now apologize to anyone who is having an REO Speedwagon/bad-pompom-girl-routine flashback, but that's how it happened.) This place was supposed to be the best-kept secret in New York, my friend said, and she thought it was called Anything Goes. I did a little sleuthing, and found out it was actually called Everything Goes, and it turned out to be four stores, each with its own specialty.

The history of this store is a bit unique, in that it is not a thrift store for charity, like the ones Goodwill runs, but rather it is a co-op. According to Katie McCarthy, one of the owners, the people who work in the stores all live together in several different houses on Staten Island. Some are owners, and some are just members of the collective, who help to defray their living expenses by putting in hours at the various outlets.

"We've been in business almost 18 years," she said. "When we first started, we were just on one floor, in our original store, and then we expanded. At first, we expanded to the second and third floors in the building, and then we opened new branches, such as the clothing store and the furniture gallery.

"Those first years, we also sold things on consignment because we didn't have much money for merchandise and it was a way for us to offer more variety. We still do that a little bit," she said. "For instance, we sell African artwork in the gallery that we get from an artist in Manhattan."

Well, that's fine, you are saying to yourself right now. So a bunch of folks on Staten Island have this co-op thing going?what does that mean to me? I will tell you what it means: it means you are going to have the best secondhand shopping trip of your life. Because the salespeople have more invested in the business, they are insanely friendly and helpful. When we hit the first store, which is all used clothing, we were greeted with, "Everything is on sale today. Make us an offer. The longer it's been here, the cheaper it is." This store is actually a house, and it seemed almost endless. The rooms kept opening up into other rooms, the staircase was lined with thousands of belts and ties and there was this strange little alcove with hippie jewelry, like peace symbol earrings and spoon rings. (Remember those?) Even more surreal, watching over this space was a bunch of styrofoam heads with wacky hats and Mardi Gras masks?all for sale. I really hit the jackpot in the basement, though?that's where most of the vintage clothing was. The more you dig, the more you are rewarded.

When we left the first store, we were given a very helpful little map that told us where the other ones were. It was sort of like being on a treasure or a scavenger hunt, over the hilly streets of St. George. If you are nearsighted, as I am, and you take off your glasses and squint a little, you could almost pretend you are in some quaint section of Montreal.

The second store on the map is the main one, or the Original Everything Goes. This is more a traditional thrift store, with books and records and toys. What makes it stand out, however, is how well-organized all of it is. I'd venture to say, for instance, that their used book section is laid out better than the Strand's (and no surly drag queens either!). They also have a whole floor devoted to dishes and housewares (with an entire shower-curtain subsection) and another floor for fabric and sewing supplies. My favorite things here were the vintage greeting cards, which they had by the hundreds (they will even find envelopes for you, if they are missing), and the old board games. I even scored a whole bag of Monopoly playing pieces; now that I have a complete collection, I am going to make them into a charm bracelet.

The third and fourth stores are kind of connected?they both sell furniture, but one is also considered an arts and antique gallery, where they display the high-end stuff they get when they clean out someone's estate.

At each stop we made, the people working there always went out of their way, telling us what was on sale, offering to plug in a lamp my friend was interested in, to make sure it worked, that kind of thing. We took a quick ride on the ferry, but we might as well have been in the Midwest. It might sound like I am exaggerating, but you can judge for yourself, as I am about to make a very noble sacrifice. Maybe not as noble as Humphrey Bogart's at the end of Casablanca, but it's close. I am going to give away one of New York's best-kept secrets, and may God have mercy on my soul.

Everything Goes Resale Shops: Clothing: 140 Bay St., 718-273-7139; The Original: 208 Bay St., 718-447-8256; Furniture: 17 Brook St., 718-273-0568; Antique Gallery: 123 Victory Blvd., same phone number as the furniture store. All are on Staten Island.