Secondhand Scaries
If you’re new to the world of purchasing pre-owned fashion and are feeling some kind of way about it, I see you.
I’m going to bare my soul and share that I once had many feelings towards wearing secondhand clothes, the predominant feeling being disgust. I was horrified at the thought of donning something that had been in close contact with a stranger’s armpits, feet, or nether-regions. Did I understand, conceptually, that wearing secondhand clothes is an absolute necessity for many people who don’t have the luxury of being grossed out as I was? Did I have an appreciation for the fact that wasting clothes is inherently destructive to the planet and that buying secondhand items was an important strategy to combat pollution from the fashion industry? Of course I did. But I, like you, am not perfect. The “ick” factor of actually wearing pre-owned clothes remained.
Until there came a time when I had a vision for an outfit that included a pair of Valentino rockstuds, and my bank account had not yet caught up to my vision, so I began to seriously consider shopping at luxury consignment stores. Because here I am, speaking my truth once again: I did, and still do, have a soft spot for high fashion. I’m actively working on learning about these brands’ transparency with their labor and sustainability processes, but the fact remains that most high-end designer brands do use animal products, and that’s inconsistent with my values.
So, what’s a fashion maximalist to do in this scenario? I went to Tradesy and found a pair of Valentino rockstud stilettos in “Like New” condition for hundreds of dollars less than the retail price. They arrived in beautiful condition and I’ve since worn them many, many times, including with this tragic dress from ASOS and these unfortunate hair extensions.
Shop Valentino rockstuds at Tradesy
Necessity pushed me to overcome my Secondhand Scaries, but in doing so, I was forced to reckon with the fact that my willingness to spend money I didn’t have on so-called “luxury” fashion items I didn’t need—items that had most likely been made through the toxic chemical processing of animal skin and inhumane manufacturing conditions—was both unethical and impractical. Why would I spend more money and contribute to the over-production of new items when I could spend less money on an item that already existed and would otherwise be discarded? Because I was grossed out by the prospect of putting my feet in a shoe that somebody else’s foot sweat may have already touched? Not a good enough reason.
It is important to engage in some real talk with yourself, as I did and still do regularly, if you’re going to have a socially and environmentally conscious wardrobe. If you can relate to my aversion to strangers’ foot sweat, I am empowering you to get over it and shop secondhand. You can ease into it by filtering your search to items designated as “New With Tags” or “Like New” (which usually means only worn once or twice). Sellers are often quite transparent about the condition of the items and will tell you if there is something that’s going to mortify you, like a musty odor or a foot stain. Don’t feel bad; I’m a little precious too, but I’m working on it.
Because in addition to being less wasteful than buying new items from suppliers (which drives up demand and increases manufacturing), buying second-hand will open up a myriad of unique, funky, vintage, often one-of-a-kind options that will elevate your look and help you create a signature style. In doing so, you can also support small businesses and stop lining the pockets of the fashion juggernauts. And that’s what being an ethical maximalist is all about.
