Gentrification of thrifting and hyper-consumerism: How are we really helping the Environment?

Despite a recent uprise in thrifting, the roots of second-hand shopping go way back. It originally started in the 19th century when religious organisations and charities began collecting used clothes to sell to those in need of affordable clothing as well as to raise funds. It grew increasingly popular throughout the Great Depression of the 1930s, when the economy was crashing and most citizens couldn’t afford to shop first-hand. At the time, this caused it to become stigmatised by the general public, perpetuating xenophobia, as it catered mostly to low-income immigrants.

In the 21st century, and especially during the COVID-19 outbreak, when social media increasingly became a primary mode of interaction, a trend of thrifting suddenly blew up. Originally, the motive of the modern thrift shopper was a revolt against the fast-fashion industry who produce rapid cycles of fashion trends and encourage hyper-consumerism; the perpetual creation of more and more garments which only turn into waste. Another detested aspect of the industry is a participation in human rights violations - exploited factory workers who toil under poor working conditions which include excessive hours, dangerous work environments, low wages and child labour. 
Thrifting is an easy alternative to the “evil” fashion industry. Not only does shopping preloved items reduce the amount of clothes that end up in landfill and refrain from supporting poor treatment of labourers but simultaneously has the appealing benefits of: affordability, creative expression of personal style - through finding unique pieces that are not mass produced - and, significantly, providing job opportunities for the unemployed. With rising popularity, largely due to media figures promoting mass “thrift hauls” on social media platforms, thrifting began to retreat from its original purpose and move more towards an “ethical” fashion statement. 

Yet the ethics of thrifting in its gentrified form today is a debatable matter. Despite the obvious environmental, social and economic benefits of the movement at surface level, its popularity has perpetuated a mindless hyper-consumerism and made it less accessible to its original target audience (low-income households who relied on thrifting for affordability). In addition to vintage stores such as Zipper and Episode (two examples of thrift stores that exploit the popularity of vintage dressing and maximalism by selling hand-picked, second-hand items for increased prices), the ordinary second-hand and charity shops in gentrified areas have now also begun to raise their prices with the growing demand and the appeal shifting to higher-income customers. This increase in demand owes itself to influencers, who often publish massive “thrifting hauls” on their profiles, thus encouraging mass consumption. 

Naturally, thrifting has found its way into the virtual world with the development of online thrifting apps, such as Depop and Vinted, which allow people to order used clothes with a single click and have them delivered to their doorsteps. 
Online thrifting’s damage is two-fold. Firstly, many of these sellers buy piles of used clothes at cheap flea markets to sell them for profit, which further narrows down the accessibility of thrifting to higher-income buyers. Secondly, although we go through cycles of clothes quickly, the number of people who donate is lower than those who shop second-hand, thus the supply remains higher than the demand. 

What happens next to all these used clothes when their owners get bored of the trend? Do the pieces continue to make their way around vintage dressers and harmlessly get reused over and over? Unfortunately, not. The overwhelmingly easy accessibility of ordering clothes on one of many thrifting apps (as well as by purchasing them in second-hand stores down the street) has inevitably bolstered mindless shopping and fuelled the pre-existing inclination for excessive consumption. 

Significantly, in the Netherlands alone, 174 million kilograms of textiles end up as waste every year. This amount continues to grow, as it has been found that our clothing consumption has increased in general by 60% in the past 15 years (Our 174 Thousand Tonne Clothing Habit – Think. Do.). These wasted garments are then burnt in incineration plants or shipped abroad. Synthetic materials, which most affordable clothes are made of, take up to 500 years to biodegrade. Even natural fibres, such as cotton or linen, do not decompose in the little time they should as they contain chemicals from dying, printing and bleaching which release dangerous toxins during the incineration process and take longer to biodegrade. 

On a positive note, it is more common nowadays for clothes to be recycled or donated (with increased awareness of these environmentally harmful options). Sadly, even if the clothes purchased on a whim find their way back to charity shops, only a tiny portion are deemed fit for reselling. The damage does not stop as, despite encouragement for donations and recycling of old clothes, an overwhelming majority of donated garments never find a new home due to small flaws or changing fashion trends. Rather, as an alternative to those which are shipped to landfills and incineration plants, an estimated 70% is traded overseas to developing economies for profit. Thus, our good-willed donations - which free us from the guilt that we only wore them once or twice - most likely end up as tradable commodities with surplus value in the hands of Western retailers.

As a result, our capitalistic consumption habits end up damaging small communities and the local textile companies in underdeveloped countries, alongside the damage of the shipping process on the environment. Especially in Sub-Saharan Africa and South Asia, the majority of purchased clothing is second-hand garments from Western markets. This can result in a decrease in demand for locally produced items and can lead to unemployment for local textile workers. While the Western sellers gain profit, workers from the rest of the world, which the West continues to exploit, lose their jobs and receive lower incomes - making it harder for (predominantly previously colonised) countries to transcend poverty. 

The question that arises is: what do we do now? Due to our situatedness in a consumerist society, we can never fully escape consumerism but we can modify our consumption habits for the better. Some “thrifters” nowadays still subscribe to the same capitalistic mentality while clearing their conscience with the fact that they are choosing the ‘environmentally friendly option’ and steering away from exploitative labour choices. It’s not only where and what we shop that matters, but how we shop. Alongside shopping second-hand, there needs to be a shift in mindsets around consumption, an aim to reduce waste and put an end to the harmful consequences of excess consumption. Yet it is our duty to also spread awareness about the issue of mass consumption and become conscious of how much clothing we purchase and throw away every year. Some options to start thinking about could be: 
a) avoid micro-trending clothes, which will most likely lose their popularity in a week or two; 
b) buy long-lasting clothes, that transcend fashion cycles;
c) avoid wardrobe changes with every new season;
d) choose sustainable brands (such as Patagonia and Reformation) when buying first-hand staple items.

References: 
treehugger.com
thinkdo.rsm.nl
newuniversity.org
www.bbc.com