Nothing to Wear! Dress like you mean it!

If you are new to my blog, I would like to share some background about my experience. I was involved in the fashion industry for over 20 years. My last position was with Michael Kors in the wholesale division, where I was provided with a seasonal wardrobe that included clothes, bags, and shoes, with drop shipments every three months. It was a significant opportunity. Prior to that, I worked with Marciano, the upscale line from GUESS, which provided me with a monthly clothing allowance to wear and showcase the clothing. I acquired numerous beautiful pieces during my tenure. Despite receiving many free items over the years, I also continued to shop elsewhere. I regularly cleared out my closet every few years, but given the extent of my collection, it became increasingly challenging to manage.

Last Saturday, our community hosted a garage sale event, and let me tell you, I was clueless. I’ve never participated in a garage sale, but figured it was the perfect stage to showcase my impeccable collection of clothes—many of which looked like they had just returned from their very first fashion show. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, sorting my clothes by season, color, and style—because hey, who wants to shop an unorganized sale? I splurged on clothing racks, determined to transform my driveway into a mini-boutique. Some of you are probably laughing at my ambition. Little did I know, I had no clue who these “garage sale” shoppers were. I did, however, make sure to announce in the community Facebook group that I would be selling a lot of designer clothing and shoes—at rock-bottom prices!

I woke up at 6 a.m. ready to go. I prepared the racks and set up my little shop in the driveway. I also had some great home pieces that I arranged nicely on tables.

7 am hits and our first customer appears. They admire my meticulously arranged items, showering compliments like “this is the nicest garage sale I have ever been to”. This continues for a few more customers until a few neighbors stop by. I ended up selling quite a bit to them without any haggling, probably because they knew they were practically winning the lottery. Others, however, tried their hand at negotiation, like the brave soul who thought $10 was a valid offer for a $300 never-worn dress! I braved the sun until 2 pm, raking in money from home decor while feeling regretful over some clothing I practically gave away. It wasn’t just about the cash; it was more like, “Do you not see the beautiful pieces here?!” They didn’t, and honestly, why would they? Clearly, I was trying to sell to the wrong audience.

I packed up my racks and brought everything into the garage with a sense of accomplishment. My closet was finally clean and looked amazing—I could actually find things again! Rather than cramming all those beautiful clothes back into my perfectly organized space, I thought it might be a great idea to visit a consignment shop. They would definitely love to get their hands on these barely worn designer outfits, and I knew they would appreciate my contribution. I could already picture walking into the store with my bags of clothes, and the staff eagerly sorting through them, excitedly celebrating the treasures I had brought for them!

I confidently load up the car, bringing my husband along for the ride. After reading stellar reviews online, I discovered a consignment store just 30 minutes away that I know will absolutely love my clothes.

When we arrive at the store, my husband and I start unloading the car. We step inside, and it feels like everyone here is my daughter’s age. The salesgirl takes our bags, and I can’t help but wonder if they will appreciate what I’ve brought them. She half-heartedly asks us to look around, casually mentioning that it will take about 30 minutes to review. As we look through racks of clothing, I don’t see one piece of clothing from Michael Kors or GUESS.

After about 45 minutes of wandering through aisles for seemingly nothing, the young girl approaches us and declares, “I could only take a couple of items; your stuff is too mature,” while handing me $15. What? Too mature???!!! Did she really just imply I’m old? Did she fail to see the goldmine of clothing and shoes right in front of her? I couldn’t shake the thought that “the owner would not be thrilled with you rejecting all of this.” Admittedly, she was simply doing her job and understood her target audience—clearly, my clothing just didn’t fit the bill for this place.

I went online and continued to do some research, I found another consignment store, this time it specifically called out they had Michael Kors. I drove another 30 minutes to this store the following weekend, excited to present my hundreds of items. Upon arrival, I noticed a sign on the door that stated, “we will only review 10 items.” No problem—I confidently walked in, expecting to negotiate since they would surely want these luxury pieces. However, I quickly realized I had arrived at the opposite end of the spectrum, near a retirement village, with every customer being a retiree. Not that it mattered; I was certain they would appreciate these pieces anyway. I approached the woman at the front to negotiate and excitedly mentioned my trunk full of goodies, but she remained unimpressed and reiterated the 10-item limit. I returned to my car and carefully selected the best 10 items. I was then directed to another lady who would evaluate my selection.

This lady begins examining a $400 Michael Kors dress with beading – never worn, mind you – and decides it’s a “no.” Naturally, I have to ask why on earth she would pass on this, and she claims the beads are falling off. I take a closer look, and the dress is actually in perfect condition, except for a stray piece of white thread from another garment that I promptly remove. She then says, “See, it’s not in perfect condition; you just picked something off of it. Go get it laundered and bring it back, and maybe we’ll take it.” At this point, I can feel the steam practically coming out of my ears. Then she picks up a stunning woven dress with a slip underneath since it’s sheer. She hands me the slip and insists she can’t accept it because it lacks a label. I hold up the incredibly see-through dress and point out that without the slip, it’s going to be quite risque. Reluctantly, she takes it back. By this time, we’re definitely not friends, and she coldly directs me to sit in the corner and wait until she’s done “reviewing.”

I go to my corner, feeling defeated. How could this happen? I bring you my best clothing, and you treat me like I’m some clueless teenager—it’s the complete opposite of the last location. She calls me back up and casually mentions she’ll take a few items. If they sell, I’ll get 40%. If they don’t, well, I guess they’ll be donated after three months. I ask if they’ll contact me if anything sells, and they just snicker, saying, “We have 3,500 customers; do you really think we have time to call each one? You can call back in a couple of months to check.”

Feeling emotionally exhausted from both experiences, I head back to my car and decide consignment stores are not for me. The first store was too young, the second store was too old, and I couldn’t find anything that was just right.

Maybe I feel a deep emotional connection to these items, many of which I was fortunate enough to receive without paying. Each piece holds a story, and I hope they go to someone who will cherish them for their quality and design. Is it too much to wish for that? In a world where fast fashion dominates the market—something I understand as I appreciate a good deal—why not invest in a gently worn designer item that can stand the test of time instead of spending the same amount on something you’ll wear just once or twice?

How can we enhance sustainability with these quality goods? They’ve played a valuable role in my life, and they have an exciting journey ahead. My second-hand clothes could become someone else’s favorite new outfit, perfectly suited for their special occasion!

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Xoxo,

Jenn