
Second-hand clothing has a unique draw. It’s more than just a garment; it has a story. On the surface, consignment is just a business model; however, the term “consignment” has expanded to an implication of a curated collection of vintage items. This “curation” offered by consignment stores is clearly reflected in their pricing, which for many is inaccessible. The high prices of these selective resale stores are representative of higher prices across the second-hand clothing industry, which in turn pushes away residents who are facing rising costs of living and turning to second-hand clothing not out of trend, but out of necessity.
The consignment model involves the owner of an item, the consignor, giving the store, the consignee, permission to sell their item, and then they split the revenue from the sale. Typically, consignment stores take 40–60% of the sale price. The business model is different from a thrift store because thrift stores typically sell donated items. Curated resale is also different from vintage stores, which typically buy items outright to resell. The price points at consignment stores are typically between those of thrift and vintage store prices.
If you spend enough time on Haight Street, you quickly become aware of the nature of tailored second-hand stores. Their “curated” collections are practically indistinguishable from the selection at the Goodwill on the same street. This is the first hypocrisy of the consignment ecosystem. Shoppers are paying a premium to shop at these curated stores, with the belief that the items on the rack are carefully selected. Consignment stores imply this through their boutique layouts, similar to those of the designer stores that line Union Square. Nearly every tag says “Y2K” or “Vintage.” Resellers are masters of creating a scarcity mindset for shoppers. The price points and atmosphere make old clothing, of which there is an abundance, into rare, one-of-a-kind items. The high prices at consignment stores aren’t a result of curation, but rather of changing consumer tastes. They are benefiting from a shifted perspective on vintage clothing. Clothing that was once considered tattered, soiled and unwearable is now considered aesthetic and trendy, while their price points latch onto this appeal.
These curated resellers offer shoppers the feeling of virtuousness, staying stylish while reducing waste, but these shoppers are following trends in the same way fast fashion outlets do — another redundancy of consignment. For many, the second-hand clothing found in consignment, vintage and thrift stores isn’t about practicality; it’s about novelty. There is a euphoric feeling that comes from finding a fashionable, trendy item in a vintage store, like a diamond in the rough. Many shoppers aren’t shopping for pieces, but rather shopping for this feeling. It’s often a social event to sift through shelves and racks, and it’s exciting to find a personalized item. It may seem that those who purchase second-hand clothing are a net positive for the environment, but rather, the typical shopper at consignment stores purchases more clothing and is quicker to discard clothing even when it is in good condition, which directly offsets the positive environmental impact of purchasing second-hand clothing. These regulars are chasing trends and novelty, not the clothing, so when an item is no longer trendy and the feeling wears off, they are quick to discard their items.
This parallel of hypocrisies is a symbiotic relationship. Consignment stores need regulars who are addicted to the feeling of finding a grail. The consumer needs the store, which feeds trends and maintains an atmosphere that elevates pieces that were once worn for practicality, but are now the current fad. The next time you’re shopping at 2nd STREET or Wasteland, ask yourself if you’re buying a piece or buying into a feeling.
