Thrifting and the paradox of plenty
On learning to say 'no' to deals that are too good to pass up.
Happy weekend! I am three weeks out from my due date, so my posts may be sporadic (or come to a halt) as I wait for this bambino to arrive.
Thrifting makes it easy to impulse shop.
For one, there’s the price (“$3 for a Rouje dress? That’s less than what I put in the parking meter!”). There are also the time (“If I don’t snatch this up now, someone else will!”) and scarcity factors (“I will never find The Row for $6 again!”).1
I especially struggle with this when the prices are getting-away-with-it good, like at Goodwill or my town’s monthly thrift meet, where the aforementioned Rouje dress dangled tantalizingly from a rack last month. ThredUp and TheRealReal’s Big Sale are other examples, where you can find Rachel Comey satin pants for $11 or 100% cashmere for $13.
When you’re dealing with racks upon racks of deals and endless pages of bargains filtered down to your exact shoe and dress sizes, it’s easy to get caught in a paradox of plenty, in which we buy things we want but don't need, only to realize later that we don’t truly want them either.
Source: Marie Claire France
While the circular economy makes it easy to ‘toss the fish back into the water,’ so to speak, processing donated items takes labor and time—and there’s no guarantee your re-circulated item will make it back onto the rack.
Similarly, relisting an item online—whether it’s hitting ‘re-posh’ on Poshmark or returning it to ThredUp—involves, at minimum, the energy and costs of shipping the item.
Of course, donating or re-listing is always preferable to the landfill or letting an item languish in your closet. But learning to discern between a great deal and a worthy wardrobe investment can make the experience of thrifting more satisfying and less frenetic.
Here’s a simple method that’s worked for me.
Source: Marie Claire France
Document before donating
I have a folder on my phone with photos of the clothing, shoes and accessories I’ve donated, consigned or listed online. I use the Stylebook app, which makes this process a snap. As a bonus, if a site like TheRealReal rejects a consignment, you can resurface the photo to list it yourself on eBay.
This one’s obvious, but when editing my closet, I also try to reflect upon why an item doesn’t work for me. It could be a matter of comfort, fit, or lifestyle, but it’s often simply a matter of not wearing a piece and preferring an alternative.
Here are examples of items I recently consigned, and what I chose to keep in their place.
I loved (and lusted) over these Ann Demeulemeester sandals for years before scoring them on ThredUp, but the height and style (they would leave a latticework of indentations all over my feet) were impractical and I never wore them. These Stuart Weitzman flatforms I picked up at a thrift store in NYC for $20 are a better alternative.
The creative and eclectic side of me wants to be a Tibi Girl, with their emphasis on unexpected silhouettes and proportions, but these shorts were an awkward length, and the use of wool ruled them out for shorts season. I’ve owned these satin J. Crew shorts for years and love them.
I fell in love with this Prada bag at one of their outlets but found it was difficult to pair with a lot of my outfits unless they were monochromatic. Instead, I find myself reaching for a thrifted bucket bag reminiscent of Clare V.’s checkered pot de miel, and this Tom Ford-era Gucci bag I scored on eBay Japan for $130 (I also inexplicably own not one, not two but three Mansur Gavriel bucket bags, so I think it’s fair to say I’m set in this category).
I wore these rigid Levi’s for years but as the mom to a toddler, they weren’t practical for bending or sitting. Instead, I bought two pairs of AMO wide leg jeans on ThredUp (these are the Sabine in Amour).
Sorry, trusty Banana Republic coat! I realized I prefer the unstructured shape of my Isa Arfen alpaca coat, purchased on TheRealReal off-season for $275 (retail price: a whopping $2,395!) I also overdid it with plaid and houndstooth in winters past and prefer neutral, monochromatic outerwear these days.
My AllSaints leather motorcycle jacket was a bit too tight and fussy with its zips and hardware. Instead, I typically wear my oversized leather blazer and simple snap-front leather jacket, both vintage Valerie Stevens via Poshmark.
Next, make a don’ts list
I’m not talking about one of those faux pas lists that publications put out every year. Rather, after taking the time to document your discards, now it’s time to make a list of what not to buy, because:
You already have enough.
It doesn’t work for you.
For a couple of years I shopped off a ‘do’s’ list of styles, fabrics and fits that worked for me. Clarifying your personal style and preferences in this way is a worthwhile exercise.
The problem is, when you’re donning thrift goggles and ogling racks of bargains, it’s easy to rationalize, “oh, I should add this style to my list!” Instead, I’ve found that reminding of mistakes I don’t want to repeat is more effective in the moment.
Below is my full list. To compile it, I started with a brain dump into my Notes app, then used ChatGPT to organize them into categories so it’s easier to reference when shopping.
Because I so very much want to suffer from style amnesia when in the throes of thrifting an ill-advised ‘don’t,’ I include little reminders to myself of why these things are on the list.
Prints:
Most prints aside from stripes e.g., plaid, checks, tie dye, animal print (I usually grow tired of them)
Colors:
Non-neutral colors
Light khaki (washes me out)
Navy
Fabrics:
Chino fabric
Ponte knit
Corduroy
Eyelet
Chambray
Polyester (sweaty)
Washed silk (stains easily; opt for satin instead)
Synthetic wool blends (pilling and itching)
Non-leather shoe lining (sweaty)
Shoes:
Mary Janes (too precious-looking)
Mesh shoes (too trendy)
Ankle straps
Metallic shoes (difficult to pair, competes with accessories)
Knit flats (just wear sneakers)
Peep toes (ambiguous seasonality)
Wedges
Pumps (prefer flats for professional wear)
Stacked heels
Jackets/Coats:
Motorcycle jackets (fussy hardware)
Barn coats / shackets
Fitted coats (prefer oversized)
Bottoms:
Cropped wide-leg styles
Skinny jeans
Tight rigid jeans (uncomfortable and have enough pairs)
Ripped jeans (unless naturally worn in)
Capris (includes capri-length athletic leggings)
Utility pants (prefer streamlined bottoms)
Mini skirts
Bermuda shorts (difficult length to pair with tops and shoes)
Leggings as pants (athleisure is fine)
Cuts, fits and embellishments:
Slogans and visible logos
Body-con fits
Low-rise
Off-the-shoulder tops
Cap and puff sleeves
Excessive hardware on clothing and shoes (competes with accessories)
Back-bearing pieces
Smocking, ruching and shirring
Heavy sleeveless sweaters (difficult to layer; arms get cold)
Denim skirts (difficult to move in)
Wooden buttons (too boho)
Suits (only buy if the pieces work as separates)
Accessories:
Wool fedoras (prefer fedora-style hats for summer only)
Silk scarves (fussy; never wear)
Statement sunglasses or eyeglasses (difficult to pair with other accessories; have several already)
Headbands (have a black silk one that’s barely worn)
Athleisure and undergarments:
Padded sports bras
Swimsuits requiring cup lining/padding
Colored tights
Workout one-pieces (impractical)
For more ideas,
of wrote up her ‘do not buy or wear’ list earlier this year:To be clear, this process is about restraint, not restriction, and your list should evolve as your style and preferences do. But feverishly deleting ‘don’ts’ in the middle of a thrifting session to justify a purchase (me with a sleeveless color-blocked cashmere sweater recently) won’t help you here.
Finally, take a beat
Unless you find yourself at my nearby church-basement thrift store, which only operates from 10am to 2pm on Thursdays, chances are, you’re not being hustled out the door. Similarly, that 20-minute countdown on The RealReal to complete a purchase hasn’t yet lost me a deal.2
First, put the item in your cart to avoid the ‘now or never’ feeling of panic.
Next, before checking out, take a breather—and perhaps a literal walk around the store.
Source: Vivienne Westwood Fall 2010
This will give you time to check your list and reevaluate once the initial ‘bargain buzz’ wears off.
This approach saved me from impulse-buying the Rouje dress—its don’ts for me were colorful, printed and puff sleeves—and instead purchasing a crisp linen beach coverup ($3) and black cashmere baseball cap ($2).
The $6 leather leggings from The Row were purchased years ago, before I had a don’ts list, and I ended up later re-selling them for $200. The profit margin on this ill-advised purchase turned out to be awesome, but as a mom with limited time and patience for selling, I would have walked away from them today (my don’ts list includes leggings as pants).
Ultimately, the Rouje dress story worked out with no regrets, too: a month later, I spotted a woman headed into the thrift meet-up wearing it. She looked fantastic.
P.S. For more on don’t-buys and ‘deinfluencing’ your closet, check out this piece by
:What’s on your don’t-buy list?
These are all real conversations I’ve had with myself.
I love that ThredUp’s cart countdown is a luxurious three hours.
About to make a don’ts list!!
SUCH good advise and a lesson I continue to relearn. You don't need everything and everything doesn't work for you!