OPINION: My favorite place to shop is in other people’s closets. I often “borrow” flannels and blouses from my mom, and my aunts know to check with me before getting rid of anything.
There are a few photos of me from around middle school, wearing outfits proudly cobbled together from such sources — one where I’m wearing my aunt’s corduroy jacket paired with a purple skirt and white collared shirt with tan flowers. Another where I’m wearing a bright yellow jacket, gray patterned skirt, black belt and a long purple necklace. I might not have been “dressed for success” as is typically understood, but my beaming smile indicates that I felt I was. From a young age, I’ve enjoyed sorting through old clothes, discovering hidden gems and creating outfits by mixing and matching.
To me, a thrift store is a huge closet. For that reason, and because my high school band director recommended it as though sharing a secret, the Orono Thrift Shop was on my list of to-dos within my first month of college.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, being relatively new to thrifting. One room felt like the home of a prolific collector. The shelves were lined with everything: pots and pans, office supplies, books, puzzles, dishware and yarn. Another room felt like an entire clothing store, condensed into the small space. There were racks of coats, shirts, shoes, pants, scarves and anything else you could think of. Eclectic to be sure, but that was the charm.
On that first visit, I went a little overboard. I picked out four new shirts, two sweatshirts, a book, a pair of earrings and a pumpkin wall decoration. I was a bit apprehensive as I carried my items to checkout, not having done the math. Altogether it was $14.25. The Orono Thrift Shop is one of those rare places that seems untouched by inflation, where you can bring a quarter and actually leave with something. Items such as a crochet hook, small piggy bank, coffee mug or spool of ribbon are just a few examples.
It’s hard to feel buyer’s remorse, but easy to regret not purchasing something at a thrift store, which makes one a bit adventurous. Of course, I have some thrifted items that I don’t wear much, but then there’s my go-to shirt for anything business casual. If it had been more than $2, I would have left it there, being skeptical about the bold, vertical and diagonal stripes. Now I wear it almost every week. You never know what may turn out to be your style.
But the adventurous feeling and low prices are not the only reasons to thrift. According to the United Nations, the environmental impact of the textile sector is huge — up to 8% of global emissions and the equivalent of 86 million Olympic-sized swimming pools worth of water every year. Somewhere between 16-35% of microplastics that end up in the ocean are from synthetic textiles. Annual textile waste is staggering — 92 million metric tonnes, the equivalent in weight of about 40 million mid-sized SUVs.
Fast fashion, in particular, preys on our desire for something new. The business model relies on the consumer buying cheap clothing, wearing it a few times before it disintegrates or goes out of style and then throwing it away, and it works.
Thrifting breaks this cycle. It lets us scratch the itch for something new or get rid of things we don’t wear, without using up new resources or creating waste. It’s a cliché to say that one person’s trash is another’s treasure, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Additionally, by using our money to buy higher quality clothing secondhand, we are sending the message that we don’t want to keep producing clothes that have been designed to fall apart after being washed a few times.
I enjoy every part of thrifting: the low prices, the adventure and making an environmentally responsible choice — but my favorite part is when I’ve put together an outfit made up of clothing that was first created and sold years or decades apart. There’s a certain satisfaction in wearing an outfit that no one else has ever worn — something completely unique.
