Like so many adolescents before her, my fifteen‑year‑old daughter delights in picturing herself dressed in eye‑catching new outfits, imagining how she might look if she had a wardrobe constantly replenished with the latest pieces. Yet, as is often the case in families, her limitless imagination does not always correspond with the decidedly limited budget we maintain for clothing. Ever since her early school years, when she was no older than a kindergartner, we have had ongoing conversations about the important distinction between genuine needs—those items essential for daily life—and wants, which are simply desires or luxuries. Despite years of reminders, we still do not see eye to eye: my perspective tends to classify most clothing beyond the basics as mere wants, whereas she more often argues, quite passionately, that almost every garment constitutes an undeniable necessity.
Still, abstract definitions aside, there is no denying the reality that she does require new clothes from time to time. Growth spurts, seasonal shifts, and normal wear guarantee that replacements are inevitable. In an effort to stretch our resources, I often try to take advantage of sales in her favorite mall shops, though the timing of those discounts rarely aligns perfectly with our needs. Thus, when she recently presented me with a virtual shopping cart she had filled on an online marketplace for resale clothing, I recognized an opportunity not only to save money but also to introduce her to a different approach to shopping—and I seized it.
This discovery opened the door to a fascinating cultural observation: members of Generation Z, her peer group, have developed a pronounced enthusiasm for thrifting. She proudly displayed her digital finds—two fashionable tops and several pairs of jeans—and I could discern genuine excitement in her voice. Although I have often suggested that hidden treasures can be uncovered from other people’s closets, this marked the very first time she truly showed interest in exploring the secondhand option.
For me, resale clothing carries a nostalgic element. Growing up during the late 1980s and 1990s, secondhand items were a standard part of my wardrobe. Receiving a box of hand‑me‑downs from older relatives or family friends was, for me, both a thrill and a practical necessity. It was often the only path by which I could own the brand‑name pieces from well‑known stores my mother could not afford at full retail. Some of the clothing I cherished most from my youth had in fact already belonged to someone else before me.
So, learning that the generation my daughter belongs to now sees thrifting as stylish and resourceful filled me with enthusiasm. Nonetheless, I felt cautious about letting her make online purchases sight unseen. In today’s marketplace, the prevalence of low‑cost, disposable fast fashion means that many resold pieces may be of inferior quality. Beyond durability, there is also the unpredictable problem of fit, since brands often follow inconsistent sizing standards. Making decisions while relying only on poorly lit internet photos struck me as a hasty and potentially disappointing method, particularly for someone like my daughter, who lacks extensive shopping experience.
Therefore, I suggested we visit a resale store in our area in person. This way, I could explain how to differentiate between a worthy purchase and one that would likely be regretted later. We discovered a resale shop strategically designed to appeal to younger shoppers: its entire inventory consisted exclusively of clothing and accessories, which helped recreate the familiar atmosphere of a mainstream store while still maintaining a secondhand ethos.
Together, we carefully examined the racks, reading price tags and inspecting brands. We quickly learned to dismiss items that cost as much as equivalent new clothing from chain stores such as Target or Walmart, focusing instead on those products that provided real savings. Much to her excitement, my daughter came across several name‑brand shirts ordinarily beyond what we could justify purchasing. But the most striking success for both of us lay in the jeans we unearthed. Denim, in my opinion, represents the most valuable secondhand find because of its typically higher retail price and its timeless wearability. My daughter managed to find a cut and style currently unavailable in the shopping mall, which gave her wardrobe a sense of uniqueness she craves. To make the trip even more gratifying, I myself stumbled upon a pair of classic Levi’s 501s in my exact size—a nostalgic echo of a pair I once loved years ago. What elevated the moment further was my daughter’s gleeful approval of my choice, which transformed the excursion into a shared joy rather than just a lesson in frugality.
At the end of our excursion, we left the store with six well‑selected items for roughly the same total price that would have purchased no more than two pieces at a standard mall retailer. The outcome felt like a triumph, and I was both proud of her thoughtful selection skills and delighted by her astonishment at the amount of money we had saved. She enjoyed the experience so much that she insisted we return not long afterward.
On a subsequent visit, we decided to participate in another feature these resale shops often offer: the option to bring in gently used items in exchange for cash or credit. To my surprise, the store paid us more for our unwanted clothing than the amount we spent on new‑to‑us purchases that day. Effectively, we walked out carrying additional, stylish clothing without spending any money at all; at the same time, we freed storage space in our home and ensured our old garments would be worn again rather than discarded. One particular highlight was a beautiful dress she selected—a piece that would have cost nearly five times the resale price had it been purchased new.
Although the practice of thrifting has in many ways become a fashionable trend within my daughter’s generation, my personal goal is to frame it as a life skill that will continue to serve her long after the trend fades. Fashion cycles inevitably change, and the newest styles offered at mainstream stores may not always appeal to her. At such times, knowing how to search through resale shops with discernment can allow her to satisfy her style preferences without overspending. Furthermore, as she grows older and gains access to her own income, she will benefit greatly from already understanding how to be a strategic and financially responsible shopper, rather than having to learn those lessons through costly mistakes.
I may not fully grasp every nuance of current Generation Z tastes or online fashion culture, but one truth remains clear: the practice of saving money while still assembling a stylish wardrobe never loses its relevance.
Sourse: https://www.businessinsider.com/i-took-my-teenager-thrifting-and-we-both-had-fun-2025-8
