I am not sure about the economics of thrift stores in the US, but I work for an organisation that runs them in Australia.

I will drive to Richmond because they have a Diversity Thrift- also known as Gaywill. Donated most of my mother’s clothes shoes and pocketbooks after she died.

You can opt-out of the hegemony, and get an arguably better-made garment, by wading through your local Goodwill,

Low skill might be the wrong word, but low profit? I make money on eBay, but it's not a fortune. It helps us get by. 

I’m kind of with you—and I don’t think it’s cold. Thrifting is fun, and it’s a hell of a lot more sustainable than a lot of other fun things, plus, whatever else you’re doing, you’re at least seeing some of your money go into the community in reasonable ways. Besides, I’m not necessarily looking for fashionable…

Y’all know Goodwill has a long history of underpaying handicapped employees via minimum wage loopholes.   It was that way when I worked for them 20yrs ago and it’s still is.    https://themighty.com/2019/07/goodwill-exploits-workers-disabilities/

I hate shopping for clothes and shoes especially, always have. I go to thrift stores simply because of the limited selection of stuff in my size. When I find something and it doesn’t offend me, I buy it. I don’t care that much about how I look 90% of the time, so thrift stores for me. I can afford higher priced…

Also—there are resellers and there are resellers. Right now, there are quite a few people, mostly women, who are out of work thanks to the pandemic. They’re risking illness to go to thrift stores, trying to hustle some sort of income.

Is it just me or did this whole thing remind you of the “thrifting” spooky story 2019 that may or may have not been extremely polished fiction/fantasy!? Ok kinja, I think this link takes you to the original submission in the “replies” area of the 2019 call for scary stories: https://jezebel.com/1838876634

I absolutely love the Goodwill boutique stores - they save me from going through tons of clothes at Goodwill to find the few high quality, low wear items I may be looking for, and I will gladly pay the 2-3x price for that service. The standards for what can be put in the boutiques is incredibly high and it’s a great…

I am one of the villainous resellers. I spend the better part of 2-3 days a week roaming the Goodwill bins, hunting for treasures. I spend another 2-3 days a week washing, mending, ironing, photographing, listing, packaging, and sending out to buyers items I have thrifted for $1.29 a pound.

It’s not low skilled, though. Just a skill that isn’t always valued because people assume they buy stuff, and pop it right up on their store. They often repair the clothes, style them for photographs, post them, manage sales and marketing. Then there’s all the time searching in thrift stores for stuff that’s on brand…

I worked at a thrift store for years, and almost all of our resellers were low income people. It’s a lot of work for a small margin, and frankly if you’re already affluent it would not be a good hustle.

Just use parallel construction “lawyers who are men” -> “lawyers who are women”. That doesn’t sound strange, and probably is more appropriate in context, where their primary characteristic is ‘lawyer’ not their sex.

Exactly! Nasty bastard. He is not to be trusted. Reading that made me wonder how many women...

Actual attitude aside, his “slide through the crack” analogy is disturbing all on its on. Then the “chink in the armor and trust” line makes him sound like a predator waiting to pounce.

I summon the Ancestors to spill the hottest of hot tea that will take down Mr. Potato Head here and his entire “empire.”

What a strange way to admit you’ve never had a fuck buddy, Steve. You can’t be friends with people you’ve had sex with?

That’s just creepy-cringey. Just because he only wants to be around women waiting to slide into their door crack doesn’t mean every man is that toxic. Damn, just say you don’t want women friends because all women are to you is a “door crack”.  Ol’ chiclet teeth boy

We remain your friends in hopes in that one day there’ll be a crack in the door