By Sebastian Daniels
It’s hard to deny that a few years ago, no environmentally conscious person would have taken issue with more people buying second-hand. Charity shops and other resellers divert clothes from ending up in landfills, which is sorely needed when over 350,000 tonnes of textiles are dumped yearly in the UK. Historically stigmatised for their association with poor-relief and Jewish communities, charity shops have in the past perhaps been left out of sustainability efforts for many due to this elitism.
Clothing choices today tell a very different story- breaking this historic stigma against second-hand. Step onto a university campus of a global elite disproportionately responsible for global emissions, and one place where carbon might seem absent is their fashion choices. Ask that person on a night out where they got their sheer top or checkered scarf from, and odds are it might have been from Brick Lane, a charity shop, or cCar boot sale. If in person overwhelms you, Vinted (an online second-hand mecca) is currently number one on the App Store for shopping.
“It makes me a lot less guilty about spending money” says one LSE student, “I know that I can buy a lot, relatively cheaply, but I’m not contributing to the fast fashion industry that exploits people.” Sustainable buying, then, becomes the obvious choice when it is both a trend, and also affordable. To say that ‘I got it second-hand’ is no longer a taboo, instead ‘I got it from vinted’ becomes an achievement. This isn’t restricted to fringe scenes of those passionate about sustainability. Recently, British Vogue wrote an article about the Peckham Car Boot, set up just five years ago and until recently was held at the back of a primary school.
To an extent, getting everyone to buy second-hand is needed to make it more accessible, even those who could afford to buy new. Without stigma, second-hand makes creativity more inclusive. “It’s less about how much money you have now and more about where to look and how you can put together an outfit” says a University of the Arts London (UAL) student. Vinted, charity shops, and car boots have allowed her to make impressions in a creative space where what she wears counts to be taken seriously in the fashion industry. “Many students here spend more on clothing than others will on food or rent” she adds, so without access to second-hand shopping, success would be much more difficult for her.
Thrifting has come to define gen Z style, but it’s not a craze without harm. In an attempt to feed the demand for second-hand shopping, sellers in Camden and Brick Lane often sell new items despite their reputation as vintage hotspots. Many items are remarkably similar to what you might find on fast fashion websites like Shein or Aliexpress. On the other hand, the second-hand items still present are often curated, expensive, and inaccessible. It doesn’t seem to matter as much to sellers and buyers where the clothes came from, so long as they achieveget the ‘thrifting’ and ‘vintage aesthetic’ they come to experience. Lack of guilt, then, seems to drive people to even more aestheticised consumption under the guise of sustainability.
An important caveat is that it often pushes out some of its main beneficiaries. Market and Vinted sellers often buy from charity shops or other cheaper wholesalers that otherwise might have gone to charity. “I can’t get the clothes I used to be able to,” says another student who buys mainly from charity shops. “You can tell there are other people in there who aren’t even scanning for their personal style or size, but pieces that look sellable for their Vinted.” Clothes sold in charity shops then simply turn into a commodity to be resold.
Resellers can make huge returns. I personally winced when overhearing a reseller quote a price of £600 for a mesh top in Peckham Carboot.
It’s not just buyers but sellers that are going to new lengths. London’s overwhelming demand for vintage often forces sellers to look elsewhere. I spoke to another seller in Peckham who mentioned that most of his stock doesn’t come from the UK anymore as it’s becomenow often difficult to find goodsellable stock in London. Even aA jacket I was eyeingalmost bought came from Berlin, in his suitcase. The high demand for what is framed as the ‘sustainable option’ now drives prices so high that sellers can afford to invest in gas-guzzling trips for relatively few items.
While the topic of gentrification in London is nothing new, less is talked about how it extends into clothing. Some charity shops have increased prices to combat resellers, but this often pushes out the people who used to rely on them. The gentrification extends even beyond clothing when rent rises in Brick Lane contributes to the closure of over half of the restaurants belonging to the local Bangladeshi community in the area. It costs locals in other ways with overcrowding and frequent station closures in Camden due to high foot traffic to the market.
It’s admittedly hard to avoid feeling a little suspicious about sustainability and accessibility when many of the people you see at this market are perfectly dressed head to toe, many in designer items. You have to be at these car boots incredibly early to find the ‘good stuff’, or at markets during the week when they’re less busy. You could spend hours scrolling on Vinted, only for it to arrive and not fit right. Finding the time is difficult unless you’re in the industry or a uni student without a job. The class divide, appearing even in second-hand clothing industries, isn’t just one of money but of time.
Markets have always been about buying and selling. Even if some items are overpriced, it’s hard to deny that the popularity of second-hand has brought more people to items that otherwise would have been wasted. Equally, it’s easy to be sceptical about how beneficial this has been to the people who rely on affordable second-hand shopping. With second-hand markets increasingly becoming geared towards those with money to spend, it might help to remember that the journey of these clothes is never isolated and never without carbon.
