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She never enjoyed shopping, or even getting dressed, until she realized that well-made pre-owned clothing could turn a mundane task into something fancy and fun.
Comfort over fashion has long been my default position on clothes, and it could be to blame for my apathy when it’s time to get dressed. Lately I’m trying to change that, to get a little more joy out of daily routines. I figure the morning has enough rituals that annoy me (see: endless brushing, endless water drinking), without ascribing boredom to something as foundational as getting dressed.
But lately something has gotten into me and I seem to be experiencing something like interest, even a little zing of happiness, when I’m choosing what to wear. It’s weird.
Has my favorite atelier started filling the pockets of their trousers with champagne truffles? No. So what’s changed?
For one thing, I’m remembering that fancy can be fun. Pinatas and palaces, silk fabrics with gold thread, tail coats and wedding gowns, cake pops, and sparkling water. Really, sparkling anything is exciting, especially if you can wear it. Sometimes dressing up even leads to places to go. If you need a reason to see a ballet or ride in a gondola, try donning something sparkly and standing near your partner. It’s almost as good as a VIP pass.
The Right Thing at the Right Time
Obviously I can’t wear sequins every day — they chafe. But it can feel just as good to be casual when the occasion calls for it. On a recent, rare boat ride, I got a lot of pleasure from my friend’s getup. Her skipper’s hat and nautical stripes said, There’s something special about this moment—pay attention. How often do you get to wear dock shoes on a dock? It felt almost unbearably luxurious.
It got me thinking. Maybe not having the right thing for the occasion has something to do with my ambivalence about shopping for clothes. It always seemed like too much work, so I’d put it off and end up wearing flip flops in my wedding photos (true story). I might be an extreme case but you can easily see why people would grow weary of the hunt. It’s discouraging to spend hours looking for the pants that fit your son’s school uniform policy, and still not find a supplier with an acceptable manufacturing process. Or worse, to learn that your go-to retailer donates to causes that threaten your values and environmental standards. We need a better way to shop.
The What and Where of What to Wear
Enter the resale dealer. I’m not just talking about thrift stores, though it’s great fun thrift-diving for novelty tees with my 16-year-old. I’m talking about the larger resale trade.
The industrial revolution ushered in a long, bleak era of sooty factories and water-guzzling, landfill-clotting fast fashion, but more sustainable practices are slowly emerging. Businesses like ThreadUp, Depop, Poshmark, and The Real Real, to name just a few, lengthen the life of quality clothes, and their clever retail interfaces smooth out the shopping process.
My process is simple: 1) Choose a website; 2) Narrow my search by sizes and brands; 3) Feel smug about finding a jacket I couldn’t afford from the retail store, for less than the price of something cheaply made from Target.
Pre-owned clothes are my favorite shopping discovery: sometimes vintage, sometimes gently worn, always new to me. My aunt calls them “story clothes,” because they come with an implicit story.
A pastel baby onesie. A faux-fur shrug. Metallic pink hightops. All softly broken in, but not broken. Occasionally they come with original tags still attached. The mainstream retail world may be finished with them, but their real life has only just begun. It sort of feels like they’ve been waiting for me to find them. And I’ve been waiting for them too, all my life. It’s almost too romantic.
I think I’ve stumbled on a better (for me) way to live by skipping the big box stores and mega-retailers altogether. With my new perspective, I can relax and even enjoy the experience of hunting and gathering. In an industry known for pollution, waste and greenwashing, it’s still possible to bypass the offenders and buy an item that supports reuse and reduction instead.
I still don’t love shopping, but I’m having a much better time.
