Get thee to a rag house!
The pervasion of poorly behaved resellers into community spaces
Historically, stigma has surrounded thrift stores, and the purchase of used clothing from strangers in general. According to Time magazine, much of this stigma stemmed from anti-Semitic attitudes because the used clothing business in America was “predominantly started by Jewish immigrants, whose professional options were often constrained by anti-Semitism”, and “that prejudice rubbed off on their wares.”
Time magazine also explained that the launch of Goodwill and other charity shops created by Christian ministries in the early 1900s “gave immigrants a place to find clothes and become ‘Americanized’” and offered the middle-class a chance “to ‘feel virtuous about buying something new because they can give something back.’” And so, partly because of the evangelization of the American used clothing business by ministries, the stigma surrounding the purchase of used clothing and wares reduced.
That stigma hasn’t entirely disappeared, but it’s far less prevalent than it was in the past. Perhaps, because of this reduction in stigma (what some call the “gentrification” of thrifting), it shouldn’t come as a shock that those seeking relatively easy extra income view thrift stores as resources, reselling as honourable work, and so, have had a significant impact on thrifting as a whole.
The debate about whether resellers are, by nature, unethical doesn’t have a consensus, and isn’t actually a discussion worth joining. It may lack consensus, but the gist of the conversation is simple: you are either a reseller, or you find yourself consistently frustrated by the slimy, exploitive resale business. I am not a reseller. The only question left is, are you?
In Regina, the most visible and obvious resellers I have encountered are masculine-presenting. That’s not to say feminine-presenting people aren’t also buying items with the express purpose of reselling them, but neat ‘go-back’ piles of women’s clothing tucked neatly at the end of the rack are less damaging, destructive, and frustrating than the openly ridiculous behavior of male resellers.
This behavior, in my experience, includes but is not limited to: shoving large sections of clothing back and forth on a rack, disturbing others in the aisle, throwing unwanted clothing items on the ground or overtop the rack, not caring about aisle etiquette (i.e.: don’t ram your cart around like a two-year-old with a Tonka truck), and flipping through tee shirts with fervor that I haven’t even witnessed in a vinyl record store, where flipping can be frantic, yes, but much more… Zen.
Scholars, such as Jennifer Lynn Ayres, remark on the “hyper-masculine spaces” of “streetwear and tee shirt culture,” explaining that this business “can reinforce a ‘bro’ culture that is…about competitive status and flaunting wealth.” I think that Ayres has put her finger on the root cause of a large part of my frustration with resellers in thrift stores with her discussion of tee shirt culture.
Resellers, especially those who haunt the men’s clothing and tee-shirt aisles, embody a space where women and gender-diverse people are neither invited nor welcomed. They drag the energy of that hyper-masculine space into what ought to be an inclusive, nonjudgemental space for community and exploration rather than exploitation. Now, in our own spaces, I get the sense we’re at risk of having our invites revoked.
When Penelope B. Bernal interviewed thrifters as research into thrift as “a respelling of home,” one interviewee, Zoe, said that “a thrift store should be a community space…a place where everyone feels welcome…and it shouldn’t be a resource that people feel like they can bleed dry.”
People like me, Zoe, and Bernal, who have no interest in the “hyper-masculine spaces” and environment in stores like Saskatoon’s Demand Clothing YXE, can avoid the stores as swiftly and easily as men can walk briskly past, say, a Victoria’s Secret. It’s impossible to employ the same strategy of avoidance in local thrift stores.
We are unavoidably confronted by the aggressively gendered “‘bro’ culture” of many resellers when it pervades into a safe space that, by nature, plays with the way gender and clothing interact (there’s no clear delineation between ‘men’s’ and ‘women’s’ clothing the way there is in malls, or places like Hudson’s Bay, and people can move fluidly between the sections). It’s exhausting.
The call here for resellers is simple: have some manners, think about the impact of your work, and think about where you are situated in the space you occupy. Here’s a hint: at the end of the day, whether you like it or not, you’re a guest in somebody else’s house. Either behave yourself, or get out.
