Look, I’ll confess to something right off the bat – I started this project because my friend Marcus was being a colossal asshole, again. It was Saturday night, we were at the bar we normally go to on Saturdays and he’d had three beers and was drunkenly scrolling through online shopping sites telling me about some $280 flannel shirt he’d bought. I casually leaned over and said, “Bro, you could totally get the same thing at Goodwill for like twelve bucks,” largely as a means to annoy him.
Typical friend-with-a-six-figure salary telling his paycheck-less friend he should spend less money stuff right there. But my friend Dave piped up from across the table, laughing so hard he was snorting his beer out through his nose. “Oh yeah, Wayne.
You with your ten-dollar Target style are totally finding a designer shirt at Goodwill.” Then our mutual friend Jake, bless his never-shut-the-fuck-up heart, declared: “Challenge accepted. Let’s make a bet – for the next month you can ONLY buy clothes from thrift stores.
You go find that designer shirt.” Honestly I’d done some stupid fashion challenges before (hi, I’m the guy who tried to make an entire professional wardrobe from Walmart…) but this one was different.
This was me putting my words… well, up. Literally. Thrift shopping’s not something I’ve ever been opposed to, mind you.
I own a few good thrifted pieces here and there. Have this awesome wool overcoat I got for $8 at some church rummage sale that gets compliments every time I wear it. Stumbled across a vintage Brooks Brothers blazer in the Salvation Army once that Jessica still says is the sharpest thing I own.
But outside those strokes of beginner’s luck I wasn’t too savvy on the thrift shopping game. Time to sharpen those chrome skates. Rule was simple – if I needed any new clothes in February it had to come from a thrift store, consignment shop, or local garage sale.
Underwear/Socks were fair game because hello, some things you don’t thrift and I already had plenty of those. Beyond that everything had to come secondhand. Took a budget of $250 for the whole month just to level the playing field with myself.
To be clear, I normally spend way less than $250 a month on clothes so I was already ahead financially just approaching this as a game. Saturday morning I found myself weirdly nervous, sticking myself outside the Goodwill on High Street at 9: 55 AM like I was waiting to meet some dude selling handmade Braves tickets. I seriously had butterflies in my stomach.
Full-on anxious panic over buying clothes at Goodwill. I’m a thirty-four-year-old teacher about to dig through strangers’ discarded clothes. What the actual fuck has my life become?
W walked in and was immediately assaulted by the smell. You know that smell thrift stores have. Fabric softener mixed with despair and quickly dying dreams.
Then you see how much shit there is. It’s not organised by colour or style or season like retail stores are. All the clothes are just on racks broken into “medium” and “large” and even those designations are wildly inconsistent at times.
This wasn’t Target where I could run in, grab a polo shirt to replace the one I stupidly shrunk, and leave. This was balls-deep into the rabbit hole. Surprisingly ended up spending about four hours that first Saturday bouncing between three different thrift stores.
Walked away with a brand-new-with-tags Banana Republic jumper ($9, would have been $79 new), a barely-worn pair of Docker’s khakis ($6), and two button-ups (one was actually a J.Crew, but the no-name brand was objectively better quality than the J.Crew one.) for $12. Total spent day 1: $27. Would have spent if I bought new: $150+.
Successful start, if I do say so myself. The crazy thing is… it changed how I viewed buying clothes. When all your clothing options come from deeply discounted scratch you start thinking hard about each individual purchase.
You think about what you really need versus what you want. You start considering how this new article of clothing you just spent an hour sweating over pairs with stuff you actually own, not what you have back at your closet at home. Building a completely new wardrobe from thrifted clothes made me want to toss half the stuff in my current closet.
After about a week I started noticing patterns. Early mornings were better since less junk was picked over and all the good stuff was still there. Went to a few of the stores in the wealthier suburbs and holy crap did those have better clothes.
Rich people donate way nicer stuff than the rest of us, apparently. Weekends were much busier than weekdays. Stores near campus had tons of never worn stuff college kids would buy and never use.
Scored the best find of the month on day nine. Came across a pair of Red Wing Heritage boots at the church thrift store for $18. Looked them up when I got home.
Retail price: $320. Needed to be conditioned but otherwise were immaculate. Owner of the store (it was volunteers running this place) told me some old dude must’ve cleaned out his closet because she’d found at least twenty pairs of shoes he donated, most of them barely worn.
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“His dad had great taste but obviously never went anywhere,” she chuckled. Kind of felt bad wearing some dead guy’s boots at first but they were my size and damn did they ever look better than any boots I’ve ever owned. Probably kicked myself during week three.
Jessica’s work was doing their annual employee dinner – nice but not white-tablecloth fancy so I couldn’t exactly wear jeans. Tried Thursday morning and literally every thrift store within a fifteen-mile radius of my house until I found a CK suit jacket at the Lutheran store for $14. Found some wool dress trousers I liked earlier in the month for $8 and a white Jos.
A. Bank dress shirt that looked brand new to complete the outfit ($7). Total bucks spent: $29.
Wife even tells me I looked nicer than usual. Sure honey, whatever you say. Would also discover some things that didn’t work out.
Pulled up under a neon restaurant sign wearing a thrifted jumper that looked completely fine until I sat down and realised it had some obscene stain across the back that was only visible from certain angles. Wore a pair of thrifted shoes that felt comfortable in the store but gave me blisters by second period that same day. Bought some dress trousers that were my perfect size before washing them and ended up cutting an entire inch off the legs.
Tribulations of the thrifting lifestyle. One thing I didn’t expect? How good the quality was.
Like I said before, thrift stores stock clothes from several decades rather than just stocking all this year’s rubbish. Started noticing certain brands and eras of clothing that were clearly made to last. Found a Land’s End flannel shirt that was probably from the 90s judging by the tag style and this thing looked brand new compared to the Gap flannel I bought at Target last year that’s already unraveling.
Another bizarre psychological thing I noticed. When you thrift and find something really awesome it feels like you saved it. Like there was potential you saw in a cast-off somebody didn’t care about.
Made you feel oddly connected to the garment. To this day wearing those boots still brings a little smile to my face like I scored a crazy deal. By month’s end I had completely replenished my work wardrobe and spent $238.
Estimated what comparable (read: used good quality) clothes would cost if I bought new and came up with about $850. Over $600 in savings. Heck, I try to buy most of my clothes on sale these days so probably saved me $400-500 anyway.
But the fun wasn’t the money. It was how it completely changed my approach to dressing myself. Made me far more discerning about what I bought.
Curious about how to style pieces since I wasn’t just going to Target and buying whatever caught me that day. Led me to some truly inspired combos I never would’ve thought to try had I just bought stuff new. Threw together that dress boots and chino combo?
Found at thrift stores. That vintage cardigan over my expensive jeans? Scored at Goodwill.
Thought of plenty more since. Of course I haven’t continued it 100% because life. But it’s at least 75% thrifted clothes purchased these days for me.
Got truly addicted to the thrill of the hunt. Nothing quite compares to finding that perfect thing for crazy cheap when you were expecting to pay full price. Like unearthing a treasure nobody else wanted.
Truth is it takes way more effort than regular shopping. If you need a white shirt Tuesday you can’t realistically go to three stores and expect to find one by Wednesday. Got to be patient, willing to hit several stores, and accept that you might leave empty-handed.
Antithesis of instant-gratification shopping.
But would I recommend it? You bet your banging faux-leather boots I would.
I wouldn’t suggest as an every-trade experiment but hell one month of your life? Do it. Forces you to think about every garment you buy.
Makes you evaluate worth versus want. Challenges you to look at clothing in a way most of us don’t think about. Feels slightly better about yourself knowing you’re keeping items out of a landfill either.
Hell, the conversations I’ve had just tellin people where my clothes came from are worth the price of admission. Somebody compliments your outfit and you can casually say “cost me twelve bucks at Goodwill?” Priceless. Especially when it’s something that would cost ten times that if you bought it new.
