Thrift stores started as community-oriented places where people with limited budgets could buy affordable, donated goods, but the rise of online resale has shifted their role.
According to Earth.org, the fashion industry makes up 10% of humanity’s carbon emissions and is the second-biggest consumer of water.
Websites like Depop, eBay and Poshmark have turned thrift shopping into a competitive “supply hunt.” Resellers often buy clothing in bulk with the intent to flip it for profit, rather than for personal use.
“In a world where people want items as new as possible, secondhand shopping encourages people to find items priced similarly to online shops but with more durability and without directly giving money to shady corporations,” said Anniesa Ortiz-Acosta, a Fresno veteran thrifter.
This begs the question: When thrifting becomes a marketplace, is it even thrifting anymore?
A study on thrift reselling in Los Angeles County found that this behavior can negatively affect low-income communities by depleting available inventory before everyday shoppers can access it.
As thrift store appeal becomes tied to what can be resold online, stores and shoppers begin to operate under the same incentives as digital marketplaces, blurring the line between charitable thrift and commercial inventory.
Because of this shift, many traditional thrifters now find racks picked over early in the day and prices creeping upward on items that would once have been inexpensive basics.
“A 7 to 13 dollar top might seem incredibly cheap to most people, but there are folks who need those necessary garments for daily living and need them for a fraction of that price,” Ortiz-Acosta said.
News and social media outlets highlight how thrift chains like Goodwill are facing criticism for rising prices tied to online resale trends. This transformation challenges the idea of thrift as being accessible and low-cost, but these motives are reshaping a culture once centered on community and sustainability.
According to a 2021 study published in the Journal of Student Research, thrift stores influenced by online resale trends are raising prices and reducing the availability of affordable clothing for low-income shoppers.
This shift doesn’t just change prices; it changes who thrifting is for. As resale culture normalizes treating secondhand clothing as an investment, access becomes dependent on time and knowledge.
Those who can arrive early, recognize trends and afford to buy in bulk gain an advantage, while low-income shoppers are left with fewer options and higher costs.
At the same time, thrifting’s growing association with aesthetics and online branding reframes secondhand shopping as a lifestyle rather than a necessity. Social media and resale platforms reward “hauls” and rare finds, reinforcing the idea that value lies not in reuse, but in resale potential.
In this environment, sustainability becomes secondary to profitability, and thrift culture shifts away from its original purpose of mutual aid and waste reduction.
“It’s unfair that people can spend hundreds of dollars at thrift stores, which in essence defeats one of the intended purposes of encouraging secondhand shopping: which is overconsumption,” Ortiz-Acosta said.
As a result, what was once a communal and accessible system is increasingly shaped by market logic. Thrift stores still rely on donations, but the benefits of those donations are no longer evenly distributed.
Instead of serving the communities that built them, many thrift spaces now mirror the same competitive dynamics found in the fast-fashion industry that they were initially meant to resist.
Thrift culture didn’t fade out — it was stripped for parts. What once existed to serve people in need is now optimized for profit, leaving behind higher prices, emptier racks and a system that no longer remembers who it was built for.
