“I low-key want to thrift it this year.”

“But why, isn’t it because you are just tired of those fancy looking things up close, or… Is it because of her?”

After a brief silence, Po reply: “Yea man, I high key don’t want people attracted to what I look like, but myself, that’s all it matter”

Back to 2 weeks ago, Po found out that his girlfriend is a gold digger. She stole his credit card and spent it all on fancy purses. Traumatised by that, Po turned to me for advice, and I told him to thrift it with the cheapest things you can find so only the one who was truly interested in you came.

Hearing this, Po’s face lit up like he just realized something that he usually ignored. On the following day, he drove to Goodwill to build the stylist fit of his life.

We walk through different sections of clothing, then we eventually agree on buying a shiny leather jacket from the 90s, pair it with blue skinny fit jeans with holes in the knee, and lastly finish with a tough looking pair of boots.

After paying a price of just 39.99, Po walks out wearing a goofiest looking outfit on the street.

“Oh, Per…perfect” I said

“Now you’re ready to try out my brilliant plan?!” I chuckled

Despite all the jurisdiction from people walking by, Po has that confidence in himself.

It was 6 o’clock on a Friday afternoon, time set for something fun and exciting. We drove off in a red 1990s mustang. Po rolled down the window to flex his new outfit, despite it being freezing cold outside.

Drifting across the street, we end up stopping at a popular bar. Upon entering the door, the security guard stood blocking in front of Po. “Where do you think you are going with that …poor looking, outdated wear?” The big and fat man asked.

Like he foreseen this, Po slid the 100 dollar bill into his pocket. “You know, I’m not those cheap guys, I’m just testing something fun.”

After giving us a sideways glance, he moved to the side and burst out a big “welcoming” smile that we can even see his only two shiny middle alone teeths. “(Cough) I hope you guys have fun!”

While walking through the entrance, we experience countless looks from the fancy dressed chicks, along with some mocking whispers. However, Po still has that fearless looking vibe. “I see what you talking about, they used to approach me immediately when I was in that Gucci suit.” He said.

“Now lesson No.2, scan for the one that sits alone, make sure it is.. Holy Cow, forget that, let’s move on to practice” I said.

Almost instantly, Po turned 180 degrees around, looking sideways parallel with me.

“Ok, now you go approach her slowly, make sure to act cool and mysterious. Then order something .. you know, “stylist”. I whisper to Po.

The bar smelled like aged wine and old wood, the kind of place that just tried too hard to feel timeless. He sat down right next to the lady. Fingers hooked into the cuff of his jacket, tugging them down for the third time. The jacket was thrifted, in fact, everything he wore was, but it fit well if no one looked at his pants too closely.

She sat alone at the far end of the bar, gently sip that melted amble color drink. Her eyes stare unconsciously at the wine shelf, expressing a mystery but charming beauty.

Po walked toward her before he could change his mind.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, nodding at the empty space beside her.

She glanced up, contacting his eyes, and gently upturned “No, go ahead.”

He sat. Heart beat vigorously.

“I like your jacket,” she said casually.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s old.. But still reliable”

“Most good things do” she replied, turning her glass down slowly between her fingers

There was no sharp assessment in her expression, no quick scan of his shoes or watch. Just curious. It felt rare and dangerous.

The conversation continued with back and forth compliments from both sides, then moved on to music, style, and eventually types.

Hours passed, Po finally got her number. And as the night wore on, Po realized something quietly, steadily has grown in him. Maybe love wasn’t about luxury, but the right person would look for the real things.