You may have heard the buzz, the big stink, about reselling and its unsavory ethics. You may even have a certain distaste for resellers, yourself. I'm going to ask you to think bigger, think beyond your personal envy, and think beyond your potentially short-sighted-but-well-meaning concern for low-income people.
Reselling refers to the act of purchasing items to sell for profit.
Instead of lauding criticism at the structural factors that enforce income inequality, many people online opt to target individuals who take up reselling for a variety of reasons. These reasons range anywhere from personal desperation in economic uncertainty, to the inability to follow modern, constrictive workplace conventions, to the simple love of the game. Does the onus fall upon e-strangers to criticize those who choose the way of the reseller? This question seems evergreen in the Internet age, wherein everyone's entitlement to share opinions of all kinds is at an all-time high, particularly when it comes to finances and spending habits. Suddenly, everyone must don the role of financial adviser, concocting detailed assumptions about another's intentions and goals, or else be complicit in what is currently deemed immoral. "I don't mean to pry" seems to have become a hedge phrase of the past. Without a certain level of tact, modern panopticon culture can be exacerbated by both parties: by those who pry and by those who post.
Circling back to the morality question -- what is it about reselling that sparks the righteous ire of its opponents? The primary argument against reselling implicates professional resellers in the spike of thrift store prices. This, however, ignores one of the major forces behind why reselling has ballooned in our current economy: capitalism. The infinite growth that every business chases. I would like to ask the antis if they think it's a coincidence that thrift prices have gone up alongside every other consumer good and service post-pandemic. Every category of items that we buy has experienced huge price hikes since 2020, according to the National Bureau of Economic Research (Vasquez, 2023). Why would Goodwill (the pertinent example), a large corporation with a rich history, be exempt from the trend? Why are we blaming individuals who are strategic about what thrift stores can offer?
Goodwill itself contributes to the millions of tons of textile waste sent to landfills around the world, primarily in developing countries (Marans, 2016). If clothes are not sold, they go through the following cycle: store, outlet/bins, auction, recycling center, landfill. Bringing in some front line experience: I actually worked at a small, local thrift store chain. The amount of donations we received were staggering. We needed two entire rooms, one for clothing and accessories and one for everything else, and an auxiliary building to handle it all. I can only imagine what our local Goodwill stores take in daily. Unfortunately, I was staffed in the "everything else" category, but I know we received hefty clothing donations as well. We would cart the product around practically begging for someone to buy it.
Someone. Anyone. Everyone. Everyone has the same opportunity to thrift shop. The goods are there for anyone who wants them. First come, first served, like any other store on the planet. Resellers and regular shoppers alike have the same opportunity to find clothes -- there is hardly a shortage of them. If clothing production stopped tomorrow, I can safely say we would still have enough to go around. Go around is the operative phrase, as it calls to mind the iconic (eco-nic) reduce, reuse, recycle symbol. That is exactly what reselling does: it does not extract it from the cycle; rather, it places clothing in a different arena of the cycle. In any case, not all resellers obtain their goods from thrift stores. The generalization of this claim reinforces the ignorance surrounding the issue. Resellers may also receive goods from rag houses, bulk sellers, friend or personal donations, throwaway bins, family hand-me-downs, or their own closets.
Thrift stores are helpful for low-income individuals, it's true. Any store with discounted goods is a godsend for those without much cash to spare. There is, however, an issue with the presumptuousness that resellers themselves do not or never hail from low-income backgrounds. The image of the reseller is a spoiled, wealthy (usually white) young woman selfishly taking from the needy. Reselling is just a hobby funded by her inheritance, she steals from poors for fun. She buys dirty $3 sweatpants and sells them for $200. She doesn't have a clue. The reality is that many resellers do not fit this curiously sexist stereotype at all. Resellers come from many backgrounds, each with their own reason for following this career path. One major reason, referencing the economy once more, is the rise of the gig economy. In an age of uncertain employment and stressful working conditions, many choose (or have to choose) contract or gig work in favor of 8 to 5 (because let's be real, that's what it is now) employment. Reselling provides a flexible option for those who need it, while also encouraging an interest in secondhand shopping and sustainable style.
Another aspect of the reseller caricature is that she actually has no sense of style, yet somehow clears the store of its good stock; she gets a chunk off junk, yet hoards it all for herself. How does such a contradiction work? You tell me. In practice, successful reselling relies on the following: a well-rounded knowledge of what will sell, eye for what is considered fashionable or unique, and knowing how to sell it. Are you fluent in the language? Can you take neat, eye-catching photographs? How are you framing the item? What sort of vibe does the garment want to help you create? The dismissal and/or omission of these considerations implies a certain frivolity that, frankly, is often only lauded at fashion and other interests that are considered too feminine to be universally appealing or important (we'll just have to ignore the fact that the majority of the big designers were/are men). Effective selling requires a unique knowledge and vocabulary. Cut, color, details, features, material, item history, style label. Moreover, even if Miss Reseller was leaving the store with 2 carts worth of clothes, much of which would probably get skipped over for being "too out there," "too weird," or "too loud," there would still be 10 more lined up to replace everything she bought.
Of course, there are resellers that upsell a t-shirt for 100x the price they bought it for. I encourage you, though, to poke around Depop or EBay or Mercari for a good 30 minutes. You will see that the majority of career resellers are not charging $200 for grubby sweatpants. Scalping is a specific practice with its own definition, referring to the practice of upcharging for necessities in times of crisis. Someone trying to sell an item for more than you personally want to pay, though they probably created a frustrating scenario for you, is not a scalper. Misuse of terms will not win arguments, nor will it justify outrage.
Reselling with intention prevents otherwise good clothes -- clothes that may not be "on trend" or everyone's cup of tea -- from being thrown away. I constantly see incredible pieces that sit there, sometimes for months, on thrift store racks. When listed for resale, the clothing finds its target market. A reseller's shop is curated, much like a boutique. In that curation is work, an eye for potential, and an opportunity for those outside of the immediate community to indulge in a universal human expression. We don't see boutique owners -- or other business models that rely on reselling goods -- fighting the fire that resellers do. To me, it is no coincidence that a start-up industry that has empowered college students to wayward young women to stay-at-home moms alike receives such aggressive criticism. The communities built around fashion affinity and self-made success are integral to the ecosystems of secondhand shopping, niche interests, and personal style.
Reselling is not the enemy here, nor are the people who pursue it as a career (or those who may have gotten their start in it but move onto other things). Blame Goodwill for price hikes, blame unchecked greed for the state of the economy, blame eroding environmental and employment protections for the rapid pace of clothing production. Not the unemployed woman who doesn't know what to do with her life anymore. Not the woman who was too afraid of the cutthroat fashion industry to break through, but wants to be able to express her love of textile and ensemble art. Not the man trying to make extra cash for his family. Not the college student who can't afford tuition. Do your part and shop secondhand, wherever that may be. Do your part and stand together with the rest of us, who are also just trying to make it. Do your part and listen to those in the industry rather than attack the optics of a non-harmful practice. There are conversations to be had that are much bigger and much more important than the outrage of a few.
