This year, I challenged myself to buy all my clothes second-hand. My New Year’s resolution was influenced by the accelerating pace of fashion: new drops, new hypes, new seasons. The idea is so popular that it goes by many names, like the ‘No New Clothes challenge’ or ‘No Buy January’. But two weeks in, I found that shopping second-hand isn’t the challenge it used to be.
“The appetite for vintage and second-hand fashion has moved from the alternative to the mainstream,” says Steve Dool, Senior Director, Brand & Creative at Depop. “It’s increasingly becoming a first choice, not a fallback.” On the red carpet, celebrities now opt for vintage instead of the latest collections. Kylie Jenner donned a glittery dress from Versace’s 1996 Couture collection to the 2026 Critics’ Choice Awards earlier this month. Steve is also seeing a rise in stylists who pull second-hand for shoots, as well as searches for vintage occasion-wear on Depop. ‘Vintage dress,’ for example, has risen 36% since last year, and ‘Vintage bag’ is up 41%.
Physical vintage shopping is more attractive than ever, thanks to the boom in curated vintage stores like BROTHER LDN and CRABI in London, Nhogirl in Amsterdam and Neuzwei in Berlin. Unlike traditional consignment or thrift stores, these spaces have the slick, Instagrammable vibe of a showroom with an edited selection of designer goods, a strong social media presence and an owner with covetable taste.
“Vintage shops have had a bit of an image problem over the last decade, [with] lots of bulk buying, and bales of graphic tees still smelling faintly of someone else’s life,” says Gabriela Crewe of CRABI. “I want to do the hard work for people. If I wouldn’t want it in my own wardrobe, it doesn’t make the cut [for the store].”
I remember the days when second-hand was seen as a fashion faux pas. Gossip Girl’s Jenny Humphrey covertly shopped pre-owned to afford the same designer labels as her peers, only to be shamed for wearing last season. But a few weeks ago, I proudly responded, “Thanks! They’re second-hand,” to someone complimenting my Pradas.
Gabriela agrees. “The idea that wearing second-hand is embarrassing feels very outdated. If anything, it's become a badge of honour. There’s nothing more satisfying than someone asking where your outfit is from, and you getting to casually say, ‘It’s vintage.’” Natasha Demetriou of BROTHER LDN also sees this shift: “The hype of having a new thing from the latest collection is very dated. Now it’s all about finding scarce, unique products from past collections.”
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Natasha’s speciality is 'archival vintage', a term that recently entered the popular lexicon to differentiate musty hand-me-downs from second-hand status symbols. Kylie Jenner’s Versace dress is a good example, as is the Tom Ford-era Yves Saint Laurent blouse in Natasha’s shop. Both are designer pieces with historical significance, imbued with a certain IYKYK energy. It “takes a special resilience and eye,” to know which vintage pieces are archive-worthy, says Natasha.
Think of your everyday online shopping session, from the moment you get inspired by the influencer on your FYP to your order being delivered to your doorstep. The process only takes a few clicks. It’s designed to give you a quick dopamine-boost and keep you on hype, but it makes it hard to build a wardrobe that really feels like you.
So, it becomes a flex to show you have a distinct taste, that you can treasure-hunt and build a wardrobe you really care about. I once spoke to a collector who found a valuable Margiela skirt amidst a pile of curtains at an Antwerp flea market — the ultimate flex.
Avant-garde aside, Natasha also looks for vintage pieces, “that are just brilliantly well-made.” Sophia Lanawan Christoffersen, an avid thrifter who works in fashion sustainability, does the same when shopping for herself. She learned how to pick “real treasures,” based on their smell, seams, composition and more, “like wool and silk from Italy or France, or denim from the US.”
On apps like Vinted, she gets weirdly specific with her keywords, entering terms like “90s wool blazer sets with skirt,” often translating them in other languages (like Polish) to get results from different markets. Then, she’ll “go through 100 listings just to get the right one.” For thrifters like Sophia, the game is to score quietly luxurious pieces (like a well-crafted, Italian silk shirt) for a fraction of their worth. “My value proposition is, I got this for £2, because I know my stuff,” she says.
Nowadays, luxury labels and hefty price tags don’t always guarantee the aforementioned quality. Brand strategist Eugene Bergstrand addresses this shift in a recent video, stating that luxury fashion “isn’t a status symbol anymore.” Those who buy mass-produced items with fancy logos are increasingly seen as schmucks who overpay and tax the environment. But slip into that vintage silk shirt, and you show that you understand quality and craft; that you’re a conscious consumer with the time (and know-how) to find something that’ll retain its value. You’re investing!
Then there’s the matter of personal taste. Before opening his vintage store, Onley Desirables, Gerard Onley spent years working in luxury. When I asked him why vintage, he said, “When clothes are new off the runway, they quickly become mainstream, everyone wants that look at the same time. Vintage allows you to create your own story.”
With influencers live-streaming from the front row and Substackers sharing their favourite dupes, it’s easier than ever to access the runway. Even the It Girl-type emerging brands (like Paloma Wool, House of Sunny or Damson Madder) now go viral in their first years. This isn’t necessarily a bad development, except that all those posts and products give us consumption fatigue. Toss in social media’s almighty algorithm, and it becomes challenging to develop a unique personal taste.
I see this in the queue for matcha or natty wine, where everyone (myself included) looks fashionable, but awkwardly similar. On the runway, designers increasingly create for viral moments, or “just for the hype,” as Gerard puts it, while affordable alternatives quickly get co-opted. Second-hand is different. Pieces are designed pre-Instagram and TikTok, sourced leisurely, passionately and with a personal touch.
As Sophia points out, second-hand comes with a built-in level of gatekeeping: “I can’t just share a link when someone compliments my outfit.” With everyone increasingly looking alike, ironically, someone else’s old clothes make you stand out.
Second-hand shopping tips from the experts:
- To navigate the endless supply of listings on Depop, Vinted or Vestaire, you need to know what you’re looking for (and put that into words). It’s not just about shopping for a vintage blazer, but a vintage blazer from a specific era, made from a specific material, in a specific colour, with a matching skirt… and so on.
- Be attentive to the listing. Natasha and Sophia both gravitate towards listings with shaky iPhone photos, which often indicate a friendly, low-tech seller rather than a business. Or, as Sophia puts it, “grandmas with shaky photos, who don’t scam, are always willing to mark down and put little chocolates in the bags.”
- It helps to check garment tags. High-quality materials like pure wool, silk or leather often indicate a well-crafted vintage item.
- Other tells? Items made in Europe, Japan or the US, high-quality buttons (covered in the same fabric as the garment, or made of thick resin, shell or wood), zippers from YKK, lining in blazers or coats, and prints like paisley or tartan that align at the seams. “It can be hard to tell based on the terrible images. But once it comes through the door, you’ll start to see the craftsmanship,” says Natasha.
- Take advantage of verification options, and most apps come with buyer protection, so if your vintage order doesn’t feel right, trust your gut and request a return.
