BY JOELLEN COLLINS
I recently hosted a visiting cousin, and, among seeing the symphony and a local theater production, she wanted to explore some of the secondhand clothing, consignment or thrift stores here. As we started our trek, I realized that there were more of them than I had recalled, in addition to stores that also include furnishings and non-apparel items. Later, when we were comparing our “finds,” we thought about the proliferation of this mode of retail, a discussion much more interesting than anticipated.
Our first thought was that many of our local stores featuring used or passed-down items are unique because of our tourist culture and clientele. A friend noted that a virtually brand-new Bogner ski outfit was a staple for her last year, perhaps left behind most likely by a woman who found she didn’t like skiing. It appeared never worn, like the jacket my cousin found with the pristine price tags still attached.
So, yes, we have access here to amazing retreads in clothing. Some of my pals buy the bulk of their attire at these places, like my ballet friend in San Francisco who only purchases her ball gowns for the opening of the season at a pricey and elegant recycled-clothing store in the city. She always looks elegant and saves a lot of money.
In addition to the good quality of most items, another reason, of course, is that with the high cost of housing and other necessities in this resort community, the availability of affordable clothing for many is limited.
Our conversation turned to other reasons for the surge in shops of this kind. Maybe we are acknowledging more trash everywhere and thus are more likely to find ways to lessen the mess. We have learned to recycle food, boxes, paper, mounds of plastic, and tin cans. Some have found that our Valley lacks available compost containers and we are experiencing a general confusion over what is or is not recyclable for things that may “look plastic” but aren’t, for example, even though most of our citizens are trying to save the planet from the dire consequences of excess waste. Thus, throwing away a pair of shoes (without repair shops to help us keep them longer) may seem untenable, so those soles are purchased by someone else.
The whole idea of recycling is not new, of course. My generation often donated used items to the Salvation Army or the Goodwill; milk bottles delivered to my childhood home were washed and left for the milkman to take away, sterilize and refill; and electric items could usually be repaired and kept far longer that they are today. Our method of recycling clothes was called “hand-me-downs.” I know my generation wasted little. So this attention to recycling isn’t just limited to hipper, younger conservationists.
I am wondering, however, just how far we will commit to recycling. I hope we can clean up our cities, rivers and oceans, perhaps a tougher job than discovering a never-worn silk blouse in my size.