Articles in the We po’ folk. Category
Black Hair Talk, Our Shame, We po' folk., What the Eff? »
Anyone who’s spent a little time in Philadelphia knows that we have a distinctive culture all our own. One of our dirtier little secrets is Jomar. This small chain of stores sells anything you can think of at a deep discount. Sure most of the stuff is off-brand, damaged, really dirty or just fell off of a truck. So what if my father, who is as notorious a bargain hunter as I am, once found a pair of pants there with a mousetrap stuck to them (you know, the glue kind). And even more of a so what if all of the signs and price tags are produced on ink jet printers in a not very glamorous Times New Roman font? There are bargains in there! A friend of mine spotted this very what-the-eff-worthy display at a Jomar in South Philadelphia.
As soon as she showed me this I hopped in the car to see for myself. What the eff is “ethnic hair deodorizer” and how can I get my hands on some before they inevitably run out?
Guys . . . you know. . . we’re all having tough times. Pinching pennies, tightening belts, and cutting open tubes of toothpaste for that last brush-worth instead of just tossing them isn’t just thrifty, its mandatory. I’ve been using the same stick of deodorant until the plastic scratches my pits and banging ketchup bottles against the table before I dare open a new one. And yes, I’m rocking last year’s flip-flops. But come on, yo.