Secondhand is no longer second best. Fashion lovers everywhere are choosing resale first as a practice for saving money, curating cooler wardrobes, and reshaping the industry as they go.
Before buying anything new — another tank top, a formal dress, a cool hoodie — do you pause? The question on TikTok, in Gen Z group chats, and at luxury consignment counters across Los Angeles and New York is: “Did you check secondhand first?”
“Secondhand first” is fast becoming a kind of social contract — a code among style-conscious shoppers who want to consume less, spend smarter, and still look good doing it. And it’s no longer niche. According to ThredUp’s 2025 Resale Report, “consumers are increasingly thinking secondhand first,” and that shift is changing not only how they shop but also how fashion itself is built, sold, and perceived.
In 2024, resale accounted for nine percent of global fashion sales, hitting $197 billion worldwide and outpacing the growth of fast fashion. That number is expected to climb to $350 billion by 2028, according to GlobalData. In the U.S., resale is already a $50 billion market, and it’s not slowing down.
Recession dressing and resale as climate rebellion
Blame inflation or the general vibe shift in fashion (less hyperconsumption, more purpose), but the cultural pivot is clear. Consumers are wising up to the fact that buying used means more than just saving money.
In spring 2025, secondhand stores in the U.S. saw a 31 percent sales increase in March and 23 percent in April, compared to the same months the previous year, according to recent data. ThredUp, which is one of the largest online resale platforms, saw a 95 percent jump in new users.
“As consumers are increasingly thinking secondhand first, the retail industry is adopting powerful new pathways for resale,” James Reinhart, CEO of ThredUp, said in March. “From the integration of social commerce and innovative AI applications to the establishment of trade organizations and interfacing with government, it’s clear why resale is seeing accelerated growth and has such a promising growth trajectory.”

There’s also the not-so-subtle matter of sustainability. Buying secondhand skips the resource-intensive steps of making new clothes. There’s no additional water, no factory energy use, no chemical dye runoff, just a garment reentering circulation. The stats are sobering: The fashion industry produces about 1.2 billion tons of CO₂ each year, and Americans throw away more than 11 million tons of textiles annually. Every secondhand purchase avoids those emissions and extends the life of a garment that might otherwise end up in a landfill.
A single thrifted item can save about eight pounds of carbon dioxide, 16 kilowatt-hours of energy, and 89 gallons of water. And the appeal isn’t limited to hardcore eco-activists. A recent survey found that 62 percent of Gen Z believe secondhand shopping is more sustainable than buying new.
Luxury has entered the chat
The stigma around resale has all but vanished, and luxury is leaning in. No longer relegated to donation bins or dusty thrift store racks, secondhand fashion now includes pristine Chanel tweed jackets, archival Prada skirts, and Jacquemus shoulder bags with their original dust covers.
Vestiaire Collective, a global luxury resale platform, says that 85 percent of its users now prefer to buy fewer but higher-quality secondhand pieces. At The RealReal, it’s not unusual for resale values of cult favorites, like Bottega Veneta’s mini Jodie or Dior’s Saddle bag, to rival or exceed their original sticker price.

Meanwhile, brands that once distanced themselves from resale are launching their own platforms. Sandro’s take-back program lets customers trade in pieces for cash or store credit. Even Shein, a name synonymous with ultra-fast fashion, launched a European peer-to-peer resale marketplace in 2024.
Consumers, in turn, are getting strategic. Many now start their searches on resale apps like Poshmark, Depop, The RealReal, eBay, or even Facebook Marketplace before browsing full-price retailers. And when the exact piece isn’t available? They often wait.
From side hustle to cultural identity
For younger consumers, thrifting is also an identity marker. Gen Z, in particular, has turned secondhand shopping into both an economic strategy and a badge of cultural fluency. The rarer the find, the more satisfying the story — and the less anyone else is likely to have it.
More than half of 18- to 44-year-olds now approach resale first when shopping, and Gen Z wardrobes are now made up of about 15 percent secondhand clothing, according to ThredUp. These shoppers are prioritizing secondhand for five main reasons: to get better deals, the “thrill” of unique finds, access to higher-end brands, one-of-a-kind finds, and to reduce their climate impact.
Many celebrities have also helped to make thrift shopping and vintage style the norm. Singer and actress SZA has often spoken about her passion for vintage t‑shirts. She routinely sources oversized varsity jackets, baggy men’s jeans, and ’90s and 2000s vintage menswear to craft her relaxed, authentic stage looks.
Other stars pulling inspiration from charity racks include Janelle Monáe, who cherishes one-of-a-kind thrifted pieces, and Zooey Deschanel, who famously said that shopping for $2 or $3 items before fame taught her creativity and style ingenuity. Winona Ryder and Helen Mirren have also shared candor about pulling vintage treasures from flea markets and thrift racks, underscoring how secondhand style has transitioned from budget necessity to celebrity-endorsed, sustainable chic.
We are at a tipping point, Alon Rotem, chief strategy officer at ThredUp, told Business Insider. “We’ve seen over the last decade the destigmatization of secondhand.”

The shift to secondhand doesn’t mean you never buy new. But it does mean asking yourself whether you can find it elsewhere, better, or cheaper — without settling for less. New tools, like Phia, the price app co-created by Bill Gates’ daughter, helps consumers find the best possible prices for items, often pointing consumers toward secondhand platforms. It doesn’t have to be a digital-first decision, though. Plenty of neighborhood thrift stores are thriving and overflowing with options.
The “secondhand first” mindset encourages consumer restraint, curiosity, and yes, even a little romanticism. You’re not just shopping; you’re curating, you’re keeping items from landfills or piling up in places like Chile’s Atacama Desert and the secondhand markets in Ghana.
For some, it’s mostly about saving money. For others, it’s a strategy to own pieces they’d never splurge on at full retail. And for many, it’s become a nonnegotiable value: to waste less, buy smarter, and dress with intention.
As consumers grow weary of trend churn and retail overload, “secondhand first” is a reset button, a way to opt out of fast fashion’s noise without giving up on great style. The clothes are out there, waiting to be found. The only question is: who will look for them?
Related on Ethos:

