This week's Overthink: the hand-me-down receiver to thrift shopper pipeline
I'm the youngest of three girls, and I grew up with hand-me-downs. Most of my clothes and toys growing up were not new, but new to me. We usually got one or two new outfits for the start of each school year, but didn't do much shopping throughout the rest. In my adult opinion, this approach to clothing children is logical, economical, and environmentally-conscious. Little me, however, wanted new things without one of my sister's names already on the tag. I related deeply to this book.
Aside from regular bills, my parents' low-middle class income was spent on dance classes, dance clothes, dance shoes, costumes, musical instruments, music lessons, school theater arts and music and dance boosters… you get the picture. There was a lot my sisters and I could share, but a lot we couldn't. Dance shoes for example, mostly cannot be handed down because they mold to the dancer's foot as they wear out. Leotards and jazz pants however, hand-me-downable! Anything that could be worn or used by the next sibling was passed down, and I had two sources right there in my house.
Little me wearing a handed down outfit that I wish I had in an adult size now.
But I didn't just get hand-me-downs from my sisters, I also got them from older girls at my dance studio. Every so often I'd come to the studio for class and an older girl with no younger sisters would ask me if I wanted a huge trash bag filled with clothes. It was the BEST. My favorite day was when I unearthed a pair of Frankie B. jeans. These were expensive jeans and they were perfectly broken in, low rise, dark wash, with flared legs. In 2004, this was striking gold. I wore them constantly. I lived in the cool girls' hand-me-downs and finally started to appreciate getting things second hand. Only appreciating something from an outside source even though your family is already doing it? Classic. Like when your mom tells you she likes your dress for the eighth grade dance but you only care when your friend tells you. People are funny that way.
In high school, a popular weekend activity was thrifting; a more chic way to get hand-me-downs than simply having your sister dump a pile of clothes on your bed. Popular girls would come back to school on Monday with a leather jacket or ripped jeans and say it was vintage, that they got it at Crossroads or Buffalo Exchange. At the time, everyone knew the young LA celebrities would donate to the local thrift shops because paparazzi would photograph them dropping off bags of clothes, so when a girl said she was wearing Miley Cyrus's jeans, that could actually be true. I also became a frequent visitor to the quirkier thrift stores like Iguana Vintage Clothing, Out of the Closet, and Hidden Treasures. Most of the time I'd be looking for funky pieces to use for theater, dance, or Halloween costumes, but every so often I'd find something cool to add to my regular, very not-curated wardrobe.
Hand-me-downs also found me in college when I briefly joined a sorority. With graduation looming, seniors would offload huge piles of chapter shirts and sweatshirts; anything from crappy tank tops from fundraisers to fancy embroidered letter sweatshirts. Post-grad, no one really wears all the merch you're forced to buy as an active member, so they'd dump it all and bounce. This benefited me greatly. Suddenly I had a closet full of American Apparel tank tops and t-shirts I could wear to my dance classes, and they were all covered in the name of the organization to which I belonged. Score! New free clothes! And I still got to say look at me, I'm in a sorority!
After graduation I had to get some new clothes to join the adult working world. Most of my wardrobe was dancewear, and a leotard isn't office appropriate. I bought some new things and adopted some others from my sister; notably a brown tweed blazer I wore to every job interview or important meeting for probably ten years. Inheriting my sister's clothes started to feel like less of an obligation and more of a treat. I could borrow things, sure, but it was so much better to be gifted something with no strings to return. Hand-me-down pants were pretty much off the table once I surpassed her in height my senior year of high school, but tops? Sweaters? The Blazer? It was good to be the youngest of three. I still have a few things my middle sister handed down to me in college and post-grad that I wear to this day, and in true younger sister fashion, I still ask if I can get rid of something that was once hers, even if she gave it to me 15 years prior.
In an effort to be more economical and environmentally-conscious, I've gotten back into buying second-hand clothes and have expanded my search beyond my sister's closet, but I no longer like the physical feeling of thrift stores. The "vintage" film that lingers on clothing before it's washed makes me shudder, and previously-owned clothing prices have gotten as ridiculous as gas these days. Subsequently, I have transitioned to shopping on secondhand websites. Essentially online thrift stores, you can ship your clothes in to sell and also shop for "new" ones. It’s an easy way to still be a consumer with a smaller environmental impact while avoiding feeling the thickness of vintage grime on your hands after leafing through hundreds of worn out graphic tees and Levi's. Win win!
I also ran a poll of my Instagram followers on this topic, wondering if any other younger siblings who wore hand-me-downs now like thrift shopping. As I'm not a data analyst, I can't say whether this is causation or correlation, BUT there does seem to be a connection between younger siblings who wore hand-me-downs growing up and people who enjoy thrifting/buying secondhand as an adult. Pretty cool. I still love to buy things new, things that have never had someone else's name written on the tag– but it feels good to have circled back around to wearing someone else's clothes and giving them a new life. Just this past week I bought a pair of secondhand Beyond Yoga wide leg pants on ThredUp that were brand new with the tag still attached. They retail at $118. I got them for $37. And last week I borrowed a shirt from my sister.
Something I Noticed
I'm nannying a two-year-old this month and when they say toddlers repeat everything they hear, they aren't kidding. I'm very careful about what language I use, but Toddler is in an "identify everything" phase; saying "that's a boy! or "that's a girl!" when we're out at the park or playground. I caught myself agreeing outloud but also saying things like "that boy over there" or "there's a girl on the swings" and accidentally misgendered a little boy with long hair. I of course apologized, but it got me thinking about the stages of teaching little kids bigger concepts. Right now Toddler is learning: boy, girl, kid, grownup. It's not my job to teach her anything beyond that. Especially because this gig ends in two weeks. But this did remind me to be more cognizant going forward about how I address/label people when I'm with Toddler, because I want to set a good example and also not be an accidental asshole.
Knitting Corner
The rest of my yarn for my vest pattern finally arrived! It took a month! But I shopped local and the dye lots match so it was worth it. In yarn world, the dye lot is everything. If you think you've bought enough yarn skeins (balls) for a pattern then start knitting and run out, you'd think you could just go back to the store and get another in the same color. Wrong! Since yarn is a dyed material, and the yarn I like best is made from natural fibers, each dye lot (or batch) can be an ever so slightly different shade. So until the rest of my yarn came in, I was unable to start my vest. I went to the store yesterday with my already-purchased skeins, held them up to the new ones to compare, and they're good! After I finish the two gift beanies for my friends, I'm going to vest it up.