Thrift-Therapy

My love of thrift shopping started in high school, going hand in hand with my growing passion for fashion and my shrinking bank account. I wasn’t the most extroverted kid in those years, but I like to think most of my personality came through my outfits. The world of fashion was so big, so broad; so many trends and styles and I wanted to try them all, and my part-time job as a dishwasher just wasn’t cutting it. Enter the world of the thrift store: all you need is a little patience, a good podcast to listen to, or your favourite Spotify mix and you’re good to go. Shopping at Value Village quickly became a weekly occurrence, and shortly after the Goodwill and Salvation Army were added to the list. Those stores will always remain close to my heart, being my first real introduction to the thrifting world. My favourite spots, however, became those you had to search a little bit harder for, hidden in the nooks and crannies of almost every city or town. The ones you might come across while walking the dog or recommended by a close friend, the discovery of which became almost as exciting as finding the items themselves.

In my own hometown I discovered The Alley Thrift Store found down a narrow alley behind the church, The Community Closet found in the strip mall across from the grocery store and My Unique Finds which was a 10 minute drive from my house, near the edge of town (who even gave me a store credit when I brought in my own clothes to donate!). These trips allowed me the chance to experiment with my style, safe from the mall and watchful eyes of my friends and my ‘friends’ - that catch 22 of having to have the perfect outfit in order to go buy the perfect outfit. I came to rely on those trips as my home away from home, a self-care practice of sorts where school and family and money and worry all fell away. I could take time all for myself to meticulously search through the racks of clothes of every shape, colour and size, and read the backs of hundreds of used books with the spines pre-cracked and comfortably worn-in. Some girls rely on bubble baths or journaling to manage the stresses of everyday life, but for me, an hour or two adrift at the thrift store was all I needed.

It was on one of my weekly thrift-therapy sessions that I discovered the thrift store find of my dreams: the perfect pair of vintage, high waisted J.Crew trousers. Now I’ve come across many unique items in my day, from designer names (a Missoni knit top, one of my proudest moments I must admit), to streetwear (a vintage Stussy skirt for $6?!) to just plain cool (pink and blue lace up platform sandals - yeah, even better than what you’re imagining), but it’s rare to find an item as reliable and enduring as the thrift store itself. Those well fitted, timeless cream coloured trousers that will go with anything, at any time, from day to night, party to casual lunch. Now I am not a minimalist by any means, nor is my ‘capsule wardrobe’ down to those essential 20 pieces, but I still relish the chance to sit back and let my clothes do the planning for me. My perfect outfit formula? Those beautiful thrifted trousers with virtually any top, and shoes (from heels to sneakers) to match the occasion.

On the outside those pants didn't look like much, and to be honest I'm surprised they even made it into my cart. The colour was a bit dull, the design lacked wow-factor and the style was veering more towards teacher than teen. But some inner angel voice made me bring them into the dressing room, thinking ‘might as well.’ And what do you know, they turned out to be the only thing I bought that day (and quite possibly the most worn item I’ve thrifted to date).

Another rarity about this find was the sheer lack of modification, adjustment and maneuvering needed to make these pants my own, in order fit my body and style. They were made for me, I swear. Quick tip? If you love thrifting, try taking a sewing class or two. It sounds intimidating, I know, but the options that this one essential skill will open up for you are endless. Stop settling for that half fitting dress because it ‘sort of’ works, or those pants that are just slightly off somehow (you know what I mean). C’mon, take your power back! But I digress, because we were discussing the lack of adjusting these trousers needed. It was one of those rare golden moments in the dressing room when everything just clicked, the little dopamine hit that keeps you coming back for more. Like when Harry Potter picks up that magic wand and everything starts glowing around him. And OK, OK, maybe I’m taking it to an extreme, but let me have my moment!

I like to think that the thrift store and I share in a healthy give and take relationship: I give to the thrift store, as a loyal customer and donator, and the thrift store gives back to me (and my wallet), with the gratifying experience of finding those essential pieces that become uniquely yours. And hey, I even feel like I’m doing something for the planet as well! There’s something comforting about the reliable qualities a thrift store inhibits; the thrift store will always be there for you, exhibiting fresh arrivals of fun colours and funky textures, endearing little knick knacks, tablewares and books galore. And when you find yourself getting lost in the trials and tribulations of everyday life, the thrift store is there to pull you gently back to shore, saying ‘welcome back, you’re safe here, we missed you!’ You may be thinking, is this truly a healthy practice (or more fittingly, addiction, verging on codependency)? Is this love of the thrift store, this ‘passion for fashion’, merely an excuse to avoid the anxiety of a family drama, the frustrations of the stubborn co-worker or the heartbreak of a cheating boyfriend? Well, you may have a point. But what’s so bad about that? As Rizzo in Grease so simply stated, "there are worse things I could do."

Today more than ever, thrift stores and the world of second hand clothing serve as a friendly reminder that what comes around goes around. At the end of the day we’re all going through the same difficulties, and we all have each other’s backs.