Cut in 1/2

Being someone who faces a daily struggle of which XL t-shirt and hoodie pair I’ll be wearing that day, any place I can find that sells either is a place I have to go. After hearing about Half of Half, a resale store off I-35, I was there within minutes. I pulled into the parking lot, having no idea what to expect. 

I was greeted by bright fluorescent lights covering the ceiling, harshly lighting the racks of clothing that never seemed to end. “I Don’t Care” by Justin Bieber was playing quietly throughout the store — the kind of song you hum to as you shop. I only saw a handful of customers roaming through the aisles.

I can’t say that I know for a fact that an entire football field would fit inside the never-ending store, but it sure felt like one could.

The section I noticed first was t-shirts. And ‘section’ might be an understatement considering I couldn’t see where the t-shirt racks ended. Looking through them, I found shirts of every color, style and theme, and I couldn’t help but think about how helpful this store might be when searching for a Nascar themed outfit for this years homecoming afterparty.

Half of Half continued to surprise me in every aisle, showing me outfits and items for any occasion, season or style. 

I couldn’t find a shirt priced over $16, and I had found only one pair of jeans over $20. Even with the low prices, not one item was anything below decent condition. While looking at the $5 distressed band tees, I almost felt guilty for the who knows how many times I’ve handed over a 50 for practically the same thing at Urban Outfitters.

Just when I thought I had covered the whole store, I notice another doorway hiding in the white wall — I had discovered the shoe section. The shoes were similar to the shirts in the overwhelming amount of options, and that I saw a pair for every occasion. 

There were shoes everywhere from red and silver bedazzled gogo boots to black slides and white sneakers.

Most pairs looked like they had been put on only once or twice, and a few looked like they had never come out of the shoe box — let alone ever walked around in.

The white wall behind the shoes is not visible as it’s fully covered by a rack of neon multi-colored bikinis, and swim trunks, all shooting around $4.

When I get out of Half of Half I turn around to look it all over one more time, and this is when I realize the biggest flaw: one that it shares with Chick-fil-A — it’s closed on Sundays.

I knew that it wouldn’t take much convincing to my friends that Half of Half was a place they’d wanna go — I’m not the only teenage girl who can appreciate a size XL sweatshirt that costs less than my lunch did that day.