At one point in time, second hand clothing stores were seen as “poor,” “dirty,” and carried a stigma of shame tied to one's inability to afford brand-new clothing. Now, though, thrifting is not only a preferred way to shop—it’s become an aesthetic. A look and lifestyle that Black and Brown communities have long made stylish, long before the fashion world’s modern take on “vintage” made it socially acceptable. The same communities that once faced ridicule for wearing secondhand are now watching their cultural influence be sold back to them at marked-up prices.
Today, many people celebrate thrifting for its environmental benefits and its potential to shift how we think about fashion and class. Choosing secondhand over fast fashion is praised as sustainable, ethical, and even radical (which it totally is!!). And yes, it’s important to challenge the harmful, classist mindset that once made people feel ashamed for wearing used clothes. Reframing thrift shopping as something smart and resourceful should be a win for everyone.
But while these shifts seem like progress on the surface, there’s an uncomfortable truth buried underneath all the cute vintage finds, grungy buildings, and faux-moral superiority: the commodification of goods that were originally meant to serve lower-class families. Now, these communities are once again being pushed out—excluded from spaces they helped build.
Today, Goodwill and many local thrift shops are charging $15–$20 for a basic used T-shirt—sometimes more than a brand-new one from a fast fashion store. And then there’s the wave of resellers, scooping up secondhand goods only to flip them for $100 slip dresses or $300 “vintage” tees. What was once accessible clothing is now inventory for the highest bidder.
This shift has had a domino effect. Take Brunswick, in Brooklyn for example—a historically working-class area that saw a wave of younger (mostly white) people move in, drawn to the lower rent, local flavor, and vibrant community. As demand grew, so did the arrival of Starbucks, nightclubs, and high-end curated thrift stores designed to meet the aesthetic needs of wealthier newcomers. What was once functional and affordable is now gentrified and overpriced.
Poverty itself is being glamorized—not just through the thrifting trend but also by fast fashion brands like Urban Outfitters, Cotton On, and American Eagle. These companies mass-produce distressed, worn-in, and “dirty” styles, as if those impacted by poverty chose to wear clothing that is ‘distressed’. It’s not just an aesthetic—it’s appropriation of struggle.
This piece isn’t saying “don’t thrift.” It’s asking you to think. Consider the impact your shopping habits have on your local community. Ask yourself who you're displacing when you haul and resell. Think about how inaccessible second hand stores have become for the people they were originally meant to serve. Check your privilege. Shop consciously.
Thrifting didn’t stop being looked down upon. It just stopped being for the people who needed it most.