Why I thrift
slow fashion meets slow food, part 1
The most interest in fashion I’d ever summoned as a teen resulted in a chaotic sock collection of bright socks with childish icons on them, like chihuahuas or french fries or mustaches or chickens or my personal favorite, a baby pink sock with five types of food trucks. Like most high school girls, my wardrobe was mostly cross country hoodies, leggings, and skinny jeans, so the socks were my one form of true self-expression. Always paired with black Old Skools, in classic wannabe skater girl fashion.
I wore wildly patterned socks for a couple more years and then a friend of mine gifted me dainty, shimmery ankle socks with minuscule holes. It became clear to me then. My collection needed some growth. Think a pop of cherry red. A frilly sock with a sporty outfit. A gold stripe peeping out of olive green high tops. My favorite socks, however, are these plain white HUE crew socks. A great stocking stuffer, I might add!
I’m rambling about socks because 1) I love socks so much it baffles me and 2) they’re a small part of an outfit, but one that can pull it all together. And in my thrifting journey, I feel like I’ve slowly accumulated elements that have finally started coming together, to the point where I’d guess 80% of what I regularly wear is thrifted. Mostly coats and sweaters, sometimes jeans and accessories, and if I get really lucky, a giant graphic t-shirt that makes bed time more fun.
During this season of gift guides and five-day sales, I’ve been thinking about what thrifting means to me. When I moved to New York a few months ago, I thrifted to prepare for winter but my searches soon began to go beyond the needs of my arctic palms and soles. Now, I get lost in the racks just for the thrill of it! For the inspiration! Sometimes I emerge with nothing, but when the style, size, quality, and price align, I feel nothing short of euphoria. When I wear something for the first time and receive a compliment, it’s like I’m in fourth grade again, beaming with pride because someone noticed my sparkly pink slip on Converse. “Thanks, I thrifted it!” The same way I love eating something that took forever to cook, it feels meaningful to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Trying on a bunch of stuff is hard! Approaching racks that are wildly disorganized just to come across one thing that may or may not fit is hard!!!
In short, my thrifted items are really special to me. I’ve grown to love thrifting for some of the same reasons I resonate with veganism and plant-based eating, which is no surprise given that the term “slow fashion” branched off the slow food movement. Thrifting makes me feel resourceful, kind of like the joy of repurposing food scraps or veganizing something that usually isn’t vegan.
It’s important to note that plant-based eating doesn’t go hand in hand with the slow food movement, and likewise, thrifting doesn’t always nest within slow fashion. One example: part of the slow food movement involves slow meat, where the animal supposedly lives a fine and dandy life. Of course, access to this sustainably-raised, grass-fed, blah-blah-blah meat goes hand in hand with status. Similarly, slow fashion brands pride themselves on quality, including animal-derived materials like leather, wool, cashmere, and suede – all of which are sold at higher price points that aren’t always accessible to the everyday consumer.
Still, these ethically minded subcultures of food and fashion overlap in their values. Elitism aside (which we’ll get to in the second installment of this essay), engaging with slow fashion is an individual choice that can contribute to collective action, and like Big Food, fast fashion can get really ugly – for the environment, workers, and consumers.
When I began identifying with the values behind veganism in 2020, it came at a time when I wasn’t an avid consumer of anything besides food. When I started school in person again, I quickly learned I was a 20-year-old girl with a high school closet – full of American Eagle jeans, PacSun tops, and the occasional short-lived Forever 21 purchase, all paired with boring white Nike airs. I had a few basics, but not much that I could see myself wearing for a while. I pursued the closet revamp but this time with a consciousness of the implications of my material desires.
Personally, I’m not at a place to comfortably spend hundreds on a single article of clothing, which is why buying new items from a small boutique isn’t usually an option. Thrift stores, consignment stores, and flea markets were the most approachable. In the beginning, I wrestled an urge to buy everything that fit and came at a great price, which is how I accumulated clothes before. My friends and I were constantly dragged to department stores with our mothers, who made the most of Kohl’s cash and coupons in their emails. Black Friday was early Christmas. I woke up in anticipation, waiting for my mom to barge through the door. Sometimes, I’d buy something just because the sale was great, but not because I actually wanted it. Likewise, thrifting started as a way to expand my limited closet without thinking about the purpose of a piece or its durability. It took a year or so for me to start reading labels, keeping a wish list on my phone, and getting picky about what I carried out of the store.
This is all to say that I’ve become a little obsessed with secondhand shopping and its place in slow fashion, which I find really interesting as someone far more accustomed to thinking about slow food. There seem to be plenty of parallels between the two movements, in an empowering way and a problematic way. As my obsession has crystallized over the past few months, here are some questions that are running through my mind. I’ll attempt to unpack some of these in the second installment of this essay (which will come at an unpredictable time, just like all the newsletters I’ve sent out this fall!):
Who has the time to thrift in an intentional manner?
Is it possible to thrift a forever closet? Who is able to invest in a forever closet with coats, boots, etc. at high triple digit prices that make my head spin?
Thrifting rose to prominence as a way to counteract materialism. It continues to grow in popularity and now, I feel like it’s cool because of its roots in the counterculture. So how do we separate the values behind thrifting from the persona? And do we need to?
Is it basically the equivalent of fast fashion if you buy items created by fast fashion brands at a thrift store?
How do we feel about thrifting animal-derived materials like leather, wool, and suede?
How does the elitism ever-present in the slow food movement translate to slow fashion?
Why does Uniqlo have relatively affordable pricing for 100% merino wool? Is Reformation just really good at greenwashing or is it legit?
As for where I’ve been getting my limited knowledge about secondhand shopping…
Started with the Good on You app.
Somewhat embarrassing, but I got a fair number of my initial thrift tips from Emma Chamberlain’s podcast episodes. Though I guess it isn’t embarrassing because honestly, good for her for promoting secondhand shopping to a wide audience.
The Molehill by Viv Chen! Favorite fashion Substack. I even started using eBay because of her.
Not about shopping but The True Cost is a short documentary about the human and environmental costs of fashion. And from the Culture Study Podcast this week, Why Do Clothes Suck Now?
I don’t really take fit pics so here are a few thrifted things chilling on my bed!
mini spice rack
reading
I have no idea how I am still on The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson but here I am. The reading rut is deep.
listening
Subway exit tunes!
eating
Ever since cooking too much for Thanksgiving, I’ve been thriving on leftovers and things I cook with vegetable-averse children hahaha. (They ate spinach the other day and it went shockingly well.) I froze a few pumpkin samosas and turned them into samosa chaat. Ria Elciario’s sticky tofu with broccolini!
dining
Dining highlight was Ali’s Trinbago Roti Shop with dhal puri stuffed with vegetables. It felt like a giant thin version of sattu paratha! Vegan Korean food at HanGawi, truffle mushroom and sweet potato dumplings at Lucky Rabbit Noodles, a black sesame latte at Whistle and Fizz. Trying to make sure I eat a bagel every week. Also took a bunch of kids to the Museum of Ice Cream and the availability of vegan options was pleasing!
