Good Fashion - Part I: The Endangered Thrift Store Experience

One of my guilty pleasures is my relatively high attention to and fascination with fashion trends. I may not be very well versed in the subject of fashion history, the details of design, or the obscurities of haute couture, but I've been developing an arsenal of opinions about popular fashion and shopping culture. This is my first installment of writings about fashion and I hope to uncover a place for fashion within the good life (or my good life, as it were).
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Vintage patterns, clashing colors, gaudy accessories, and the unparalleled comfort of distressed textiles. At one time these words described the coveted treasures of another man's trash: the trophy thrift store purchase. Rare finds and unique combinations of clothing and accessories allow one to construct a fashion identity that separated him or her not only from their mainstream counterparts but also fellow thrift-store creatives. This experience is quickly being replaced. In the past decade, many clothing chains have discovered that sand-blasted denim and tattered fabrics (though mass produced) are loaded, not only with comfort, but with imagery of hard-work, utility, and freedom, to say the least.

Two particular stores have mastered mimicry of the thrift store experience: Forever Twenty-One and Urban Outfitters. Forever Twenty-One offers disorderly racks of clothing with retro color palettes, funky patterns, and unconventional style. They sell seasonal selections of accessories to be paired with their latest mix-and-match outfits. Urban Outfitters pools together brand-name urban-wear, approved retro styles, and have upped the ante by featuring vintage home furnishings. Hordes of angstful, teenage, suburbanites flock to these stores to feed their need to construct an anti-pop identity. The mass produced image is sold/the "identity" is bought.

What is wrong with this transaction? I strongly believe that youth who crave alternative lifestyles should seek out authentic experiences that challenge mainstream culture. The thrift store experience involves a hunt, local knowledge, and discriminating taste. It involves creativity, imagination, and effort. Thrift stores offer at least one inherent benefit, too: by recycling clothing and furniture, unwanted stuff is diverted from the waste stream. This also allows consumption of used materials, rather than new, and dilutes the exploitation of natural resources. Suspend your distaste of materialism and set voluntary simplicity to the side: we can't deny that identity is at least partly a social construction. The thrift store is an essential tool for sub-cultures.
Chains like F21 and U.O. don't need to necessarily replace thrift stores; currently, the two factions coexist. If nothing else, this entry has reminded me to be more creative when amending my wardrobe.