Thrifting has been good to me over the years. It has given me an amazing closet, plus helped me to minimize my environmental footprint and keep my budget under control. It has brought me many learning moments; I’ve discovered new brands, re-discovered old ones, and learned a lot about quality and design. But maybe most important of all, thrifting has played a key role in the development of my personal style – and even my understanding of personal style.

Thrifting is vastly different from the typical retail experience and people who don’t realize that upfront are more likely to be disappointed and/or frustrated and decide that thrifting isn’t “their thing”. Retail is organized and prescriptive; it directs you to certain items and even offers helpful suggestions for how you might wear those items (via mannequins and in-store displays and media). Each store has its identity and point of view, and it tends to impose a sort of tunnel vision so that customers see the clothing through the lens of that store’s brand vision.

Thrifting offers zero help. It is chaotic and non-prescriptive. It doesn’t tell you what’s good and what’s trash – in fact, prices are a useless metric in that regard; it’s up to you to decide what’s worth buying, and how to wear it.

Now, given those considerations, you might think that already having a strong sense of personal style is a key requirement for being a successful thrifter. But that isn’t necessarily the case. Certainly, going into a thrift store with a clear vision of how you want to dress will make that trip a much faster, more efficient one. More akin, perhaps, to a regular retail experience. You can go in, home in on pieces that suit your personal style, purchase, and leave.

But that isn’t the only definition of successful thrifting, in my opinion.

Instead of looking at a thrift shop as simply just another kind of clothing store, think of it as a giant style laboratory. It is a place to acquire clothes, yes, but your real goal is to figure out what works for you and what doesn’t. You don’t have to go in with a complete vision; you can go in to figure out what your vision might be.

Viewed from that perspective, the greater and more random – aka chaotic – a thrift store’s inventory is, the better. It gives you so much more material to experiment with! Don’t be stressed about finding the perfect thing. The key is to just look. See all the different colours, patterns, styles, fabrics, design elements. The more, the better – your eye will get trained all the faster. Touch things. Find out what feels nice and what doesn’t. Figure out which colours and patterns you like, and which ones makes you want to hurl. Maybe you’ll see some things that intrigue you and tempt you to buy. Do it … even if you’re not sure those things are “you”. Especially if you’re not sure. Thrifting offers a low cost, low risk opportunity to experiment.

If you still feel overwhelmed by the idea of being left to your own devices to sift through a thrift store, you can take a 2-pronged approach. First, visit the mall and take notes about clothing that catches your eye. Not the brand, but the specifics: colours, patterns, lengths, cuts, sleeve details, necklines, etc. Then, go to the thrift store and look for similar things. You don’t need to find something identical; you’re just testing different things.

That being said, even if you go into the thrift store with an idea about what you’re looking for, stay open to other possibilities. The beauty of thrifting is that it exposes you to a much greater number of ideas and trends all at once – today’s trends, yesterday’s trends, trends from 5 years ago, and trends from 20 years ago. All that exposure … it’s the best kind of style education you can get.  

Getting a handle on what you enjoy and don’t enjoy wearing is Step One in developing your own sense of style. Individual pieces are the building blocks of style, but we don’t all need to use the same building blocks. For example, I prefer skirts over pants, and long skirts over short ones. My version of a “preppy” aesthetic will be informed by that and will look different compared to the aesthetic of someone who prefers short skirts and jeans. Knowing what buildings blocks are out there, then knowing what building blocks work best for you is the starting place for developing a personal style point of view. Personal style is not about echoing what someone else is saying; it’s about figuring out what you want to say. Fashion provides the communication tools; your style is your message.

Thrifting lets you try out all kinds of tools to find out which ones serve your message the best; it doesn’t tell you which tool you need but gives you the space to figure that out on your own. Success in thrifting can be measured by metrics other than “I bought the thing and the thing was exactly what I needed right at that moment.” Success might look like the exact opposite of that: I bought a thing and it was TERRIBLE! Because, you know what? You probably learned something from that “fail” – about how a certain thing makes you feel, about how you like to feel, about what to never buy again, etc. In science, an experiment isn’t successful only when it proves a particular hypothesis; it’s successful if it helps to advance our understanding of the world. Or, in this case, our personal style.

The downside of fashion experimentation is, of course, waste. In an ideal world, there would only be as much clothing as people actually wear. If 50 people loved a fuchsia dress with chartreuse butterflies, 50 fuchsia dresses with chartreuse butterflies would exist, and no more. Obviously, the real world doesn’t work like that. But thrifting can reduce the impact of style experimentation. If one person buys a pair of wide leg jeans, realizes the style doesn’t work for them, and donates it … this can mean that the next person who wants to try out wide leg jeans doesn’t have to consume a brand new pair, they can just thrift one. And if they don’t like the jeans either, no harm done – there is still one less pair of jeans in circulation, and the existing pair (if re-donated) still has the chance to find an owner who will love it.

I can speak from experience: thrifting has reduced my retail shopping to almost zero. Multiply that across a larger population and the scale of the impact will make itself felt. Thrifting will never replace retail shopping entirely, if for no other reason that at some point, new clothes will need to be brought into circulation. But, in my view, that isn’t the point anyway; I don’t see thrifting as the answer to the problem of clothing over-production (which, btw, is driven by corporations’ profit motives rather than consumer demand). Thrifting can be, however, one answer to the problem of unwanted clothing. In other words, it doesn’t stop more clothes from being made, but it does keep existing clothes in circulation longer (and out of landfills). And that’s a good thing for those of us who love style.

Details: Ralph Lauren turtleneck & coat, Cotton Ginny belt, Modern Vice shoes (all secondhand), Banana Republic jeans (retail)

Thoughts: I had been meaning to wear this coat much earlier in the season, and various factors conspired against me. But when the opportunity finally came, I’m glad I went with an out-of-the-box pairing because I really like how well the striped turtleneck works here with the southwestern pattern of the coat. Surprisingly well, in fact. Southwestern patterns can sometimes feel a bit challenging to mix (I usually stick to solid colours) but this is a good reminder that they pair well with other geometric prints.

Details: Selected Femme sweater (retail), Escada blazer (thrift), Ralph Lauren skirt (swap), Chie Mihara shoes (thrift)

Thoughts: Remember my “villain colours”, green and purple? Here is a subtle version of that, with navy as a grounding neutral. It still feels badass, without any overt Joker vibes. Black wouldn’t have worked here; it would have “deadened” the other colours, which are relatively muted. Actually, I am wearing black shoes (because I don’t have any navy ones), but they are a relatively minor element here so my point still stands. Short skirt with long jacket is one of my tried-and-true outfit formulas; I enjoy these specific proportions a lot, provided that opaque tights are also involved. I think it’s because the tights helped to elongated the vertical line and, as someone with short legs, I appreciate that.

Details: Ralph Lauren turtleneck, Woolrich vest, Roolee dress, BR belt (all thrifted), Laredo boots (consignment)

Thoughts: Another successful pattern-mixing experiment, if I do say so myself. The vest and the dress were easy choices; in fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve worn them together before. I was initially stumped trying to select the 3rd piece; cream or black seemed too obvious and I wanted something more interesting. Finally, I thought to try the striped turtleneck, mostly because it has the same colours as the vest. And, lo and behold, it worked. Again. This turtleneck is proving to be a revelation.

Details: Toni T dickie, Everlane sweater, Gap jacket, Oak & Fort jeans (all thrifted), Coach bag (swap), Mia shoes (retail)

Thoughts: In some ways, this is a very simple outfit. We might even say it’s minimalist — for me, anyway. But I find it very satisfying despite its simplicity, and I think that’s because of the colour palette. Black and brown has been my favourite combo this season. Denim and a little pop of white add crispness.

Details: Talbots sweater, Malorie Urbanovich skirt (both thrifted), Stella & Dot necklace & bracelet (both Poshmark)

Thoughts: Another very autumnal outfit, and while it’s not my go-to colour palette at all, I enjoyed it a lot. It does get me thinking whether it’s time to part with this skirt, though. Objectively, it’s great. Great texture, great cut, nice details (I love the leather waistband and deep front pockets, plus it has a functional zipper all the way down the back). But the colour is not among my preferred shades of green; I think I look better in brighter, more jewel-toned greens. It might be why I haven’t worn this skirt very often in the last year or two. It’s hard to part with things I still like but not on me because … well, I still do like them. I may need to find this one a home with a friend I know will love it as much as I do.

Details: Mexx shirt, Ralph Lauren belt (both Poshmark), Twik pants (thrift), Chloe shoes (gift)

Thoughts: This outfit turned out to have a somewhat cowboy-esque flavour, and that wasn’t intentional. In retrospect, I should have picked a different belt to avoid that. This goes to show you how much impact a single accessory can have. But I’m not that mad about it., because I still like the outfit regardless. The shirt is the statement piece here, but don’t overlook those pants. They’re shaping up to be a real wardrobe staple. Watch this space and you will be seeing them quite a bit …

I’m sure that, by now, everyone’s heard about boy/girl math, such being the nature of viral trends. So I wanna talk today about another kind of arithmetic.

Adina’s Shopping Math.

Now, you may be wondering, “does math even come into Adina’s shopping?!” and, if so, you are forgiven. I am very fortunate when it comes to my closet. (And my life in general.) I have all the clothes I need, and plenty more besides. With patience and some thrifting luck, I’ve been able to get most of the things my heart has desired over the years. And when it comes to the things I love — whether it’s clothes, or books, or home décor — I don’t hesitate to “indulge” myself year-round, not just for special occasions. But there are limits to my “guilt-free” spending. Price caps, if you will. Actually, I’ve taken to calling these “no math limits”. So, you see, math does come into it.

[Pause here for an important sidebar. I hate using the terms “indulge” and “guilt” (or “guilt-free”) almost as much as I hate the term “investment” in this context, but they are basically the shorthand that we have all been conditioned to use when speaking about personal discretionary spending. This terminology comes loaded with baggage — implicit value judgments and connotations that can contribute to a dysfunctional or toxic relationship with money and material possessions. That’s why I am making a conscious effort to reframe the way I talk about this topic.]

What is a “no math limit”? Basically, it’s a price point below which I will purchase things without engaging in any higher value math. More on that later. I don’t have a single universal “no math limit”; it depends on the category and type of purchase involved. And “no math limits” only apply to certain categories in the first place, specifically the ones that represent the things I’m most passionate about — as noted above, clothes, books, art/crafts and home décor. Discretionary purchases outside of those categories always involve higher value math.

I think it helps to illustrate what I’m talking about by using hard numbers, but please don’t get hung up on the specific figures; they’re personal to me and in no way intended as a prescriptive guide for anyone else.

In general, I will buy any one item (from one of the above categories) if it’s $20 or less without giving it much thought beyond “do I like it/want to read it/make something with it”. That’s a “no math limit”. With clothing, if it’s an item I REALLY want and have been searching for a while — say, a specific vintage Ralph Lauren piece — then my “no math limit” is around $100. Furniture is also an outlier, in that, if it’s a piece that my husband and I both agree we like, the “no math limit” is somewhere in the region of $250.

But what if an item I’m considering for purchase doesn’t have a “no math limit” or exceeds the applicable “no math limit”?

In approaching the decision whether to buy something or not, my goal is to avoid engaging a scarcity mindset. Before I go on to explain, let me pause here again and note that I am writing this from the perspective of someone with generous disposable income, who is not dealing with financial insecurity. When I talk about scarcity mindset in this context, it is not actual scarcity that is the issue; it is the feeling or belief that one “doesn’t have enough” or doesn’t feel “secure” about what they have, without a rational basis for that belief (in other words, the person is actually financially secure and able to meet their basic needs and more). In a lot of people who experience it — myself included — scarcity mindset can be an expression of past (financial or other) trauma. In my case, having my entire life uprooted twice in a short span of time (at age 12 and 15) and experiencing a measure of financial hardship as a result, meant that it took me years to feel “secure” — not just financially, but in a lot of different ways.

It is also worth pointing out that capitalism encourages a scarcity mindset even outside of any personal trauma. Despite the overabundance of stuff being produced all the time, people are made to feel like they are constantly in danger of “missing out”, that there is always more that they need all the time — more money, more stuff, more experiences.

As I have become more aware of this mindset over the years, I have been actively trying to disrupt its manifestation in my behaviour and the decisions I make — whether it’s something as minor as buying a new coat, or as fundamental as how I want to design my life.

Ok, so what does that look like?

Well, when it comes to buying a (discretionary) item without or outside a “no math limit”, here are the questions I ask myself to avoid approaching the decision from a scarcity mindset:

(1) can I afford it?

(2) is the enjoyment that the item would bring me represent the best value I can get right now from the money it takes to acquire that thing?

(3) does the enjoyment of the item outweigh the cost of owning it?

This is what I’m calling “higher value math”. (See, I told you I would bring this full circle).

Let’s break this down quickly.

The first question is table stakes stuff. When I am deciding whether I can afford something, I mean specifically whether it’s within my budget for discretionary spending. That means (a) I have the money in the bank and don’t need to rely on credit; (b) that money is available after all other budget line items (including savings) have been met. I call this table stakes stuff, but it’s actually also a reflection of personal priorities; financial security is important to me.

The second question is fairly self-evident; money is a finite resource, we want to get the most bang for our buck. What represents the “most bang” is a deeply subjective assessment that is fundamentally rooted in one’s own value system. There are many things that money can buy, and not all of those things will be equally meaningful to us. Things can also be more or less meaningful at different times in our lives, and in comparison to other things we already possess.

As for the third question, you might be wondering “what is the cost of owning something, apart from its purchase price?” Well, some things require cleaning and maintenance, which can involve both time and effort as well as out-of-pocket costs. Other things merely require storage, but this, too, can come with cost implications. (Just ask my husband who’s had to built multiple libraries for me.) And there is an intangible cost too; taking responsibility for an item requires some measure of emotional bandwidth because we should care about the things we own.

For me, this higher value math has been extremely effective in guiding my shopping decisions. I think it’s important to mention that even if I decide not to buy something based on this analysis, it doesn’t mean that I don’t still want the thing. The point isn’t to nuke the desire. Framing my decision in this way just means that any pent-up desire isn’t left to fester. I am not “depriving” myself, or “giving up” something. I am affirming my values and priorities, while still appreciating the appeal of the thing. If, in a few months, the desire is still there, I can always run through the math again.

Let me be clear, though: the only way this works is if one has a very clear idea of one’s values and priorities. This sounds easy, but it’s actually one of the hardest parts of adulting. Capitalist society loves to tell us what our values and priorities should be and — no surprises here — those values and priorities usually align with the interests of those who own the means of production. Sometimes the messages are downright toxic (hello, hustle culture), sometimes they’re contradictory (just try being a working mother in this economy), but rarely are they actually reflective of who we actually are or how we want to live our lives. So we have to learn to tune them out. It’s hard because, well, we still have to engage with capitalist systems every day and they produce a never-ending cacophony. But without a firm understanding of one’s own values and priorities, higher value math is useless.

Here is an example of my higher value math in action, because I always feel like examples are useful even when they are intrinsically personal and, therefore, not necessarily reproducible.

This is a vintage Ralph Lauren skirt that I deeply, deeply, DEEPLY desire.

I think you can see that it suits my aesthetic and personal preferences down to a T. Collecting vintage Ralph Lauren pieces — and I use “collecting” deliberately here — is one of my current passions. The skirt is rare-ish but there are a few available on eBay, with list prices usually hovering around $600CAD — an amount that is available to me for discretionary spending, but far above my “no math” limit. I have, in fact, spent similar amounts on individual pieces of clothing in the past, though not recently (actually, at a time when my life and priorities looked quite different than they do now). Having considered the higher value math equation, I have chosen not to buy the skirt at this time.

I still love it. I am still keeping an eye on eBay listings, and actively looking for it on Poshmark. But this skirt isn’t going to give me the most enjoyment I can get, at this time, from $600. I have a lot of other skirts I love (which doesn’t make this one any less special, btw) and $600 could buy me a lot of, say, books or hours of treasure-hunting at the thrifts. Maybe some day the skirt will give me more enjoyment than those other things; maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll stop loving it as much as I do right now. Maybe I’ll find it for a price that results in the high value math giving me a different answer. Hard to say. But, today, I am happy with my decision, regret-free, and FOMO-less.

And that’s some math I can really get behind.