Swap and Sweat

Last night I hosted my first swap party. A sweaty one, but a swap nonetheless.

The idea was generated as my co-worker and friend Meredith and I flew home from one of our many business trips, with that month's issue of Real Simple in our laps. The suggestion was a recession friendly one - have a gaggle of girls over, ask them to bring between 7 and 10 items of clothing or housewares that they like, but no longer wear/use, and share them with the other guests.

As we compiled our guest list, the numbers of possible attendees topped 15 girls - we knew lots of ladies who seemed to fit the bill between us. We added her friend Rachel to the mix as a co-host, and all of a sudden we had a plan. We crafted an invitation and sent it out to our friends.

With the crazy travel schedule that Meredith and I deal with, and the fact that we work together and often have to go to New Jersey together, we had to reschedule the party more than once. Finally, the date worked for all of us, and it was set.

As I changed over my closet from winter clothing to spring/summer clothes, the bag of giveaways and give-to-friends items became larger and larger. In fact, I had collected WAY more than the recommended 7-10 items. Never fear, I felt confident that the party would be a success.

And then, as you read, my air conditioning unit in my living room went out unexpectedly on Saturday. Unfettered, I bought a $15 box fan from CVS, opened the windows, and opened my front door.

At 6:45 tonight, the doorman announced my girls had arrived. Well, not MY girls, but Meredith and Rachel's girls. My friends' schedules were all of a sudden as crazy as mine - with deadlines, work functions, sailing events and freelance jobs, the list had dwindled down to six attendees, none of whom I knew before except Meredith.

They all walked into my sweltering living room with loads of stuff. And immediately flew into action. While I uncorked the wine and served the cold beverages, the girls dove into action, sorting the clothing by style (tops over here, skirts over here, jeans over here, and shoes lined up against the wall here) and laid out the items on every available space in my 1,000 square foot condo. Before I could even pour six glasses of chilled wine, the "store" was ready for shopping.

We realized, at this moment, that the chatter had not even paused, and that everyone was socializing at a rapid, frenetic pace you don't often find at girls' functions where not everyone knows each other. We believed, at that moment, that we'd solved the "networking challenges" of social outings - throw a bunch of girls in a room with wine and tell them that they get to give away stuff they don't want and they can take home more than one thing they do want? And, they're all suddenly insta-friends.

Now, let me remind you - this was not unlike any typical shopping adventure. You had to first browse, then take a few items into the bedroom and try them on and come out and model them for everyone else to vote on. And, you had to spin in front of the full-length mirror a few times first.

Need I remind you that my air conditioning wasn't working? And that it was 90 degrees with a blazing hot sun setting over the western sky? Yes. It was brutally hot, and these new friends were too kind, and far too polite, to embarrass me with their sweat. Everyone just brushed off the glistening parts and kept moving.

By the end of the fourth round, taking turns by number, we had each amassed about 6 or 7 things that we got to keep - in exchange for things that we were thrilled to see find a new owner and a new future home. We bragged about our clothes, and told stories of their wear. We sampled each other's items, and oohed and aahed when the right item landed on the right body.

I have to admit - I wish I were a few sizes smaller with much smaller feet - because this was some kind of grab 'n go. There were designer jeans, clothes with tags still on, hip and trendy choices and even a few good "church dresses" and "work outfits" to grab onto.

Overall, it was a hit.

The pizza delivery guy looked quizzically at me as I stood in the doorway, refusing to open it too wide for fear of showing him a REAL SIGHT of several hot, sweating girls in various states of undress. The neighbors in the building to the north of me likely got a real show tonight - as we all grew more comfortable, it became like the Filene's Basement tag sale - girls stripping down to their skivvies in the middle of the living room - lost wine glasses sweating on side tables and pizza long since forgotten.

The long and the short of it was that we all got a few new things, emptied our closets of those "guilty items" that never got worn, and the Salvation Army will get two ENORMOUS bags of very nice donations when I can finally drag the leftovers to the store for a drop-off and tax write-off. And, we all made new friends (which we've all seen now in our underwear, so that already levels the playing field).

As for the leftover pizza? When I stop sweating, I may consider eating that for dinner tomorrow night.

Just to ensure that I'll never fit in the clothes that show up at the next swap party, for certain.

The air conditioner saga will be resolved on Friday, when the ABT delivery guy comes to install my new wall unit - which, much to my dismay - is significantly more expensive than your typical window unit.

But the chilly temps that will follow are sure to make the wine and the various states of undress all that more delicious.

I told you I was back.