Recently, a friend who homeschools her three kids and is usually too harassed for idle chit-chat, sent me a message. She excitedly informed me that she had started doing something out of character: renting outfits through a local clothing rental platform.
On the one hand, it was surprising as she had been living in a kid-friendly uniform of a T-shirt and shorts since her eldest child was born 11 years ago. Alternatively, renting dresses for events or simply for dining out made sense to this down-to-earth mum who had long zeroed in on her priorities and decided that unnecessary laundry did not belong on her to-do list. Inquisitive about her rekindled desire for dressing up, I drilled her about the whys and hows.
As she reflected, “This is the fun and luxury I need right now. My kids are old enough that I can now think about what’s fun to wear. Renting is fabulous, especially since I don’t have to buy, keep, wash, and iron the clothes.”
It made me think about my long-held resistance to buying or wearing second-hand items. Theoretically, buying pre-owned makes sense. Firstly, we must do our part to make the fashion industry more circular. By giving clothing and accessories a second, third and fourth life, we can prevent overproduction. Secondly, buying pre-owned makes sense on a practical level as, in many cases, the original buyer has already taken the hit from depreciation.
Credit: Fifth Collection
Despite knowing all this, I still go “hmm” when I think of buying or using anything second-hand. Some vintage fans like the weight of history accompanying the items they buy. I cringe at not knowing where they have been. I am sure my long-time acquaintance Nejla Matam-Finn of the luxury resale online platform The Fifth Collection would tell me that I need more education, with her hilarious dry humour.
Educating consumers about pre-owned in Asia is a topic that comes up frequently in our conversations. Whether it’s a matter of superstition or paranoia about hygiene, there remains a certain resistance to buying pre-owned in Asia.
Recently, we chatted about a physical pop-up event her company had participated in. On the importance of occasionally touching base with customers — existing and new — in real life, Matam-Finn shared, “Many people are surprised that our pieces are in excellent condition. There’s still this thing about, ‘Okay, second-hand is good for the environment, but is an item going to look like it was thrifted? Am I going to be happy with the way it looks?’ Sometimes, people even ask if an item was refurbished [because it’s in such good condition]. But it could have just never been used by the original owner.”
I should know. Last year, while sorting out my wardrobe in a laborious, months-long exercise, I ended up reselling a few of my possessions for the first time in my life. After donating nine bags of clothing, I found myself with a few pairs of shoes I had never worn. These included two pairs of four-inch stiletto sandals in the same design but different colours. I bought them simply because they were beautiful, and because I had envisioned that there would be an occasion — or two — in my future when I would want to put such pressure on my feet. That occasion never arose. As Matam-Finn has often experienced with her sellers, they were practically brand new.
I was surprised to find that my shoes sold within a month of being listed. As someone who has never tried to recoup any money from her purchases, I was pleased to get back a quarter of what I had paid for them a few years ago. It was even more satisfying to think that they might have been rehomed to someone with tougher feet, and who would make better use of them than I had.
I don’t know when I’ll close the loop and become a secondary-market shopper, but at least I’m on my way.
This article was originally published in The Peak.