Thrift stores, and the act of thrifting, have been shoved down the throats of media corporations, social media influencers, and big high-fashion brands, by the hands of quirky little Gen Z-ers for the past couple of years. If you were born after 1996, chances are you’ve wandered the glorious racks of used clothing or rummaged through the bins of deserted appliances that thrift stores have to offer. Thrift stores, or secondhand shopping centers, have attracted the masses of Gen Z in recent times and stolen the spotlight of most name brands. Gen Z is now their largest demographic estimating that 46% of Gen Z shop secondhand. The penny-pinching generation has catalyzed their sales significantly. “Since Gen Z has matured into its spending power, the resale market has grown 21 times faster than traditional retail over the past three years to be worth $24 billion in 2019 (Huber 2020).
Now, secondhand stores are notorious for taking in unwanted items and selling them at a heavy discount as a non-profit. They are known to be not only remarkably less expensive but also more environmentally conscious. If we were to toss out the unwanted clothing, it would default into waste and the water processing and energy that go into that would add to our already concerning climate conditions. So as soon as a self-righteous teenager bumbles into Goodwill for a bucket hat, she is not only endorsing in some wallet self-care, but she is also now an avid member of the worldwide recycling committee. Who doesn’t love lessening their carbon footprint for a buck fifty? And just when you think things couldn’t get any better, the beauty of thrifting also feeds into Gen Z’s insufferable need to stand out. Born in 2003, I myself resonate with the Gen Z culture and the need for being unique. Similar to the cultural booms of many generations past, my generation makes statements by deviating from the norm. Everyone has an innate desire not only to be different but to prove it with what they wear. Thrifted clothing is unlike the mass-produced and unoriginal items you get from name brand distributors, it comes from dozens of different generations, different age groups, different genders. The collection to be found in a thrift store is a melting pot of past persons so complex and diverse, that finding an item that fits your “vibe” becomes sort of a game. The teens that flooded the malls in the 2000s, birthed the teens roaming the thrift stores today. And they are in search of anything to rebel against the bedazzled skinny jeans hanging in their mother’s closet.
But was it always this way? Was thrifting always cool? It couldn’t have been, otherwise, it would forsake the rise of our beloved name brands. Well, where did it begin and how did it crawl into the spotlight? And more importantly, why am I writing an entire article just to promote something that is already globally popular?
I’m not promoting it. Nor am I denouncing thrifting. I’m calling attention to the fact that thrift stores and their customers have pushed a narrative of cheap shopping past its true form. Thrifting does more good than bad on a normal basis, but that changes when it becomes a trend. When things become trends, we as consumers often neglect the trend’s historical origins and economic consequences. Let’s rewind a bit.
A quick Google search on the origin of thrift stores took me to a plethora of articles on the Salvation Army collecting donations for its original stores in 1897 and the outreach of benevolent Christian groups. It was called the “salvage brigade,” which provided food and housing for the homeless men who pushed carts through the street soliciting cast-off goods. “Methodist outreach workers started what is now Goodwill in Boston in 1902, not only collecting second-hand goods but providing unemployed workers for area residents who needed cheap labor. (Waxman 2018)”.
Cute right? Checks out.
That is until I did more research to find a report from Jennifer Le Zotte in the October 2017 edition of The New England Quarterly stating that the benevolent Christians got this idea from new immigrants to America, especially European Jews, who had trouble finding employment. To earn money, they pushed carts through major cities’ streets, collecting and selling second-hand goods. Though they were scorned for this behavior, these new citizens also made good money. And so of course, the idea was stolen and commodified, and the image of thrifting was replaced with smiling, white, Christian faces who wanted to help the poor they so recently scorned. The types of media and advertising afterward reiterated this image, erasing its origins and supporting hegemonic norms of white supremacy, ultimately feeding into a “never-to-be-toppled hierarchy” (Cole, 2019). So we already see a class struggle and a race struggle in this story.
But thrifting continued to be an activity for the impoverished. The stores set up shop in lower-class neighborhoods and those who shopped there were looked down upon for years. In the ’90s, thrifting became a sort of anti-fashion. It catered for grunge band groupies and hipsters. As time went on, the Gen Z kids were becoming adolescents through the 2008-2009 recession, which could have something to do with our fondness for cheaper clothing options. And then somewhere around 2017, we matured into kids with bank accounts and let havoc wreak on our beloved childhood thrift stores. Once the industry boomed, celebrities like Angelina Jolie and Tyra Banks publicized their use of secondhand stores. Influencers on Instagram, Tiktok, and Youtube like Emma Chamberlain invented the VSCO girl and other fashion archetype icons, but most importantly: the teen who thrifts.
But what we fail to realize, is that since thrifting is all of a sudden in, and has become a trend even for wealthy consumers, this means that “the prices at second-hand stores will keep rising, reducing the narrowed options of low-income communities. (Rashiti 2020).”
It’s called incorporation. We think that we are being more conscious and cost-friendly by deviating from the norm and sticking it to the man, but really we have just relocated their assets. And now, the people who treat thrifting as a necessity rather than a cute, “woke” option, are struggling to find the funds to participate. It is cyclical, and it feeds right back into the system of keeping the poor, poor (Horkheimer, 1944).
As a generation that yearns to make the world a better place and a more equal playing ground, it’s defeating to know that even the seemingly wholesome act of thrifting has its dangers. How can we be the ultimate ally, the ultimate advocate, the ultimate “main character”? Well, that’s a bigger question than the world knows how to answer, but it’s good that we are asking. For now, it’s the thought that counts, and in this case, these thoughts, come with discounts.
REFERENCES
Waxman, O. B. (2018, August 17). History of thrift stores. Time. Retrieved October 17, 2021, from https://time.com/5364170/thrift-store-history/.
Valmira Rashiti, author at Youth Time Magazine. Youth Time Magazine. (n.d.). Retrieved October 17, 2021, from https://youth-time.eu/author/a149/.
Cole, T. (2019, February 6). When the camera was a weapon of imperialism. (and when it still is.). The New York Times. Retrieved October 6, 2021, from https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/06/magazine/when-the-camera-was-a-weapon-of-imperialism-and-when-it-still-is.html.
Adorno, T. W., & Horkheimer, M. (1944). Dialectic of Enlightenment. Verso Books.
Huber, E. (n.d.). For gen Z, thrifting isn't just a way to shop, it's a lifestyle. Why Gen-Z Loves Thrifting, Second-Hand Shopping So Much. Retrieved October 17, 2021, from https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2020/10/10014753/thrifting-gen-z-thrift-shopping-trend.
Hi Zsazsa! I absolutely loved your blog post about how the seemingly wholesome activity of thrifting might be more negative than it appears on the surface. First of all, I thought it was incredibly well-written and engaging, and I really admire your writing style. I also appreciated learning more about the history of thrifting. I had no idea about it, and that is exactly the point you were trying to get across. We so often commodify things and completely forget about their history, class connotations, etc. Your blog post made me think back to the readings we looked at about jeans and how fashion trends are cyclical. Fiske talked about how pop culture can be picked up from subordinate communities, and that is kind of what happened with both thrifting and ripped jeans. We talked a lot in class about the politics of ripped jeans, which was something I hadn’t thought about before we discussed it. Ripped jeans actually got their start in the countercultural movement in the 1960s with grunge culture, and they were a statement about rejecting consumer and mainstream culture, as well as excessive material use. No one really thinks about this history or the associations that go along with it, especially people in the upper classes. People in these classes can comfortably wear ripped jeans because it doesn’t identify them as part of the lower class, which is something people don’t want to be associated with. People in the lower class don’t want to wear ripped jeans because ripped jeans look worn and old, and people don’t want to be looked down upon. The class and power dynamics that play into this normalized fashion trend are fascinating, and like with thrifting, the history behind it is not remembered by most people. You also talked about how thrifting is now a huge trend for Gen Z, and jeans are often thought of as representing youth style. Great work with this!
ReplyDelete^^This comment is from Emma Marks (it posted as from "unknown" so I wanted to say my name just in case)
DeleteHi Zsazsa,
ReplyDeleteI totally agree with your points that thrifting has been incorporated by the culture industry and that there is clear proof in social media portrayals of thrifting. TikTok and Youtube videos often sell the idea that thrifting is a way to get unique clothing for a cheap price, which also feeds into the idea of false needs. It’s also a great point that the consumers of this trend often neglect their historical origins and don’t realize that they are contributing to a cycle that keeps the poor poor. However, I think you could also take a more optimistic view of thrifting by following the ideas of Stuart Hall and the possibility of audience agency. While Adorno and Horkheimer would be more inclined to believe that the consumers you reference are just mindlessly looking for trendy clothes, as you also stated, Hall may believe that some people are actually choosing to thrift with some agency. More specifically, they may have the consciousness of choosing to disengage from fast fashion retailers, unethical labor and unsustainable production processes. Thrifting might be their way of rejecting the false needs that traditional retail businesses impose to get you to buy their products at high exchange values. However, going back to your point about the historical significance of thrifting and how it supports low income communities, I would agree that it’s difficult to respect this when the majority of teens who are thrifting and are willing to pay more for the cheap items are driving prices up.
Hi Zsazsa,
ReplyDeleteReally love the blog post! Your observation about incorporation reminded me about Fiske and his commentary on the irony of jeans, which is that they are meant to be a medium for rebellion, particularly among young audiences, but they are standardised and incorporated by the culture industry.
Horkheimer would look at thrifting much like you have. It was once an example of subordination among economically weaker sections of society as they were able to find some form of individualism through the clothes they wear. Part of the appeal of thrifting is the impression that you are creating a wardrobe that is more personal than the standardised articles of clothing found in fast fashion. The culture industry, however, recognised this as it became a trend and it became commodified, marginalising the subordinate groups that it benefited to begin with.
Considering the popularity of thrifting among Gen-Z, it is unsurprising that microcelebrity has played a role in the development of this trend. Influencers such as Emma Chamberlain endorsing the thrifting lifestyle in their vlogs and videos influence teenagers. They watch these people seem relatable, creating a perceived interconnectedness with their viewers. This false intimacy allows them to make commercial endorsements for thrifting effectively.
Lastly, I particularly enjoyed your elaboration on the origins of thrifting. Cole uses photography as a weapon of imperialism as colonised nations were represented through a white, supremacist gaze. The commodification of thrifting, taking it away from the immigrants who instituted it is a similar appropriation that relies on oppression by wealthy white populations.
Hi Zsazsa! As an avid thrifter myself, I loved reading your post and I learned so much about the history and cultural implications of thrifting. I was unaware of its origins with immigrants and how Christians essentially stole and commodified the idea. Now, thrifting is becoming incorporated into the commercial world which has many detrimental effects on those who rely on thrift stores for daily clothing rather than fashion. I admit that I seek out thrift stores for their vintage, one-of-a-kind products, and I never realized the negative impact this has on those who frequent such stores for everyday necessities. This is similar to the commodification of jeans, particularly ripped jeans. John Fisk explained how ripped jeans initially represented a counter cultural rejection of America’s materialistic society, but as the clothing became more and more popular, it eventually became incorporated into consumer culture rather than rejected by it. This also provides insight into class systems in American society. Given the examples of ripped jeans and thrifting, it is evident that consumer culture is capable of turning anything profitable at the expense of those less privileged. By stealing immigrants’ method of making money and turning it into a commodified product for higher class individuals, the immigrants are not only robbed of their idea, but they also become more disadvantaged and cannot make money the same way as before. It is therefore a consistent trend where the dominant group exploits the subordinate group for economic gain. This has drastically changed my personal opinion on thrifting as I no longer see it as an enjoyable pastime for inexpensive and unique fashion. As people like me continue to thrift for purposes of fashion and trends, prices will only increase which further affects the lower class individuals who rely on such stores and their low prices for survival. I am grateful that you shed light on such an important subject as I was extremely ignorant about this before!
ReplyDeleteHi Zsazsa,
ReplyDeleteI loved your blog post!! I especially loved your last line! It was very catchy and to the point. Your writing style is so engaging and being Gen-Z myself born in 2002, I related greatly to this idea of “woke” culture. Your piece reminded me greatly of Fiske’s Jeaning of America. Fiske discusses this paradox of how when one tries to differentiate themselves from the norm they are simultaneously participating in it. They become a part of what they are resisting. Disfiguring jeans was once a way of distancing oneself from contemporary America, “but such a distancing is not a complete rejection ... wearing torn jeans is an example of the contradictions that are so typical of popular culture, where what is to be resisted is necessarily present in the resistance to it” (Fiske. 4) Alike, thrifting became a way to get unique clothing outside of big brand names and find individuality, however, it is also playing into a trend that everyone else is following. Gen-Z’s method of resistance has been incorporated and commodified by the mass culture industry. I never before have thought about who this incorporation was at the expense of. When I have thrifted in the past I too thought about cheaper prices and recycling, but I did not think my part in this trend was at the expense of low income communities. As you noted from Adorno and Horkheimer, the exchange value is far surpassing the use value and this has caused great economic consequences for people who depended on these low prices. Intertextuality is key in analyzing the full picture of these pieces of popular culture as one image, ad, or text “can never ever bear the full meaning.” (Fiske, 6) Your writing has given me a new historical perspective that has allowed me to analyze thrifting in a new light. Well done!
Hi Rachel!
ReplyDeleteI loved your blog post on Aladdin (1992) and Aladdin (2019)! I think your points connecting the two versions of Aladdin to Zeisler’s concept of the “male gaze” and to Sontag’s multiple definitions of camp were very well thought out. When reading your post, I was reminded of another concept we talked about in class: pop-culture being “hopelessly commercial” (Storey, 2009). This definition, outlined by John Storey, explains that, at its core, the purpose of the culture industry is to maximize profit. The reboot Aladdin (2019) can be seen as “hopelessly commercial” because Disney wants to profit off of a new audience as well as entice fans of the original to purchase movie tickets and movie related merchandise. Essentially, instead of creating new content, Disney is choosing to reinvigorate an old property because it is a safer bet to maximize profit. In the reboot, Disney made slight changes to changes to the plot to increase profitability. Specifically, as discussed in the blog post, Disney did attempt to improve their sexist portrayal of women in the original Aladdin (1992) in the live-action reboot of Aladdin. This change was in order to have a greater appeal to a post #MeToo audience. To give context, in 2017 the #MeToo movement, which called out sexual harrasment, resulted in a feminist shift in society. This shift is reflected in the culture industry in order to appeal to a more working society. In terms of Aladdin (2019), aligning the reboot with feminst themes is a way to increase their profitability for the progressive audience.
Hi Zsazsa,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your piece on thrifting and its evolution throughout the years. I was first introduced to the idea of thrifting as a more economically and environmentally sustainable form of fashion. The ideas of unique fashion and individuality came later as thrifting became more of a trend in our generation’s (Gen Z) thirst for aesthetics. Thrifting’s current association with individualistic fashion and self-expression erases its history and significance to the lower class.
I have never known of its somewhat “radical” yet humble beginnings as a way for immigrants to make money on the streets. It makes sense considering the secondhand market's desire to give somewhat fashionable options to those who may not be able to afford retail. In this way, thrifting could be considered excorporation, repurposing the dominant groups works for the subordinate groups needs. However, as you explain, thrifting has become a prime example of incorporation. Not only is thrifting now incorporation because it makes anti-fashion methods fashionable, but also because it has become a part of the same fashion industry it was created against—taking away affordability for those who need it.
As Adorno and Horkheimer explain, incorporation is the way dominant groups remain on the top and subordinate groups remain on the bottom, by robbing the latter of any source of radicality. I wonder if those responsible (influencers, fashion models, celebrities, etc.) for the shift in how we engage with thrifting think about the implications of making thrifting a trend and what it means for those who thrift out of necessity and resistance.
Thank you for sharing this! It sparked so many thoughts.