There always seems to be something inherently shameful about used objects. In a world that's constantly obsessed with the next new thing, the shiny, brand-new item is naturally the most preferable—and the object that's already been used and then discarded, the least. The implicit rule seems to be this: If it's used until it's no longer wanted by one, it's probably undesirable by all.
But there's a place where this seems to be an exception, a place where these used, no-longer-desired objects have the potential to become desirable again—and that place is a thrift store. We're talking about dusty, intricately-cluttered spaces full of old furniture and antiques; loosely-organized, fluorescent-lit aisles permeated with that familiar musty scent; and those scattered, messy shelves displaying the fruits of people's past spring cleanings. It may not exactly sound like the most ideal place to shop—but for many, thrifting is a unique experience unmatched by any other.
Of course, different people may have different reasons for thrift shopping: maybe you're one of those nostalgic fashionistas seeking retro and vintage styles of clothing, or possibly a designer/hobbyist on the hunt for overlooked antiques and collectibles—or perhaps even just someone simply looking to stretch out your budget to cover all your basic needs. Whichever type of thrifter you are, or regardless of the particular reason why you're there—the entire experience of it is just as extraordinary for everyone. Digging through cluttered racks and shelves, walking through aisles bestrewn with various knick-knacks and trinkets, scrounging through piles of dusty garments—it's the ultimate example of one person's trash being another person's treasure.
As for me, many of my own, now-beloved treasures are items I've found while shopping in an unassuming thrift store full of spectacular finds: from old vinyl records for 99 cents each, to $5 flannels in the men's clothing section, to even a Canon film camera for a $25 steal. But even when I've walked out of a thrift shop completely empty-handed, not even one of the many hours I've spent digging through cluttered racks and shelves or scavenging through dust-filled items have ever felt anything remotely like a waste of time.
Because the whole point of thrifting isn't about accumulation—it's about appreciation. It's about the entire process itself—the process of looking through various discarded, dust-collected objects just in the hopes of coming across a one-of-a-kind gem; of browsing through unusual and outdated items, all the while wondering what values and roles they once held in the forlorn detritus of other people's lives; of finding meaning and usefulness in something in which others could not. It's about discovery, about being inspired by the past to recreate the present and the future, about appreciating the value and uniqueness that each and every item has the potential to hold for a particular someone that comes along to discover it.
In the end, even with the absence of a purchase, the culminating experience of thrift shopping is just like a treasure hunt: half the fun, if not all, is in the looking—and appreciating.
But sometimes, if you're lucky, you might just strike gold.
