When I was in elementary school, I hated the way certain clothes made me feel. I could feel the fabrics cling to my skin, their scratchy materials itch my body, and their stagnant size seem to always change with the fluctuations of my weight. I would dread getting dressed every day, meticulously picking out every piece of clothing until I was back at one of three outfits I wore in a week. However, I knew that these insecurities didn’t come from my clothes, they came from the way I viewed myself, and what others said about me.

My entire childhood I was overweight. I quit every sport I tried, had an above-average BMI at every doctor’s visit, and dreaded every swim unit in P.E. we were all forced to endure. It wasn’t until freshman year, after leaving the awkward stage of middle school behind, that I started to be a more active person. Although the first two years of high school were tough for a very different reason, it helped that I was able to start loving myself, which motivated me to do the things I found enjoyable, and thrifting was one of them.

When I go thrifting, I have specific requirements that each piece of clothing must meet before I purchase it. T-shirts must have thick collars, soft fabrics, and be oversized. Pants must have straight legs and deep pockets. Sweaters can’t be wool, they have to be a blend of cotton or something else soft and comfortable. I could go on forever, and sometimes I feel like I do. I will stand in every aisle of the men’s section and sift through every single item until I’ve found four or five I’m content with. Sometimes I think it may be a fixation of sorts or a way to cope with how indecisive I am, but I love shopping, so I enjoy doing it. 

However, nothing beats the satisfaction of checking out. Going home with two bags flowing over the sides with sweaters and only spending twenty dollars fills my brain with so much serotonin my head could explode. It starkly contrasts entering urban outfitters with fifty dollars and leaving with a pair of socks and judgmental stares from their teenage employees. Thrift stores are a place to get lost in, a place that’s fun to explore. You can always find creepy knick-knacks and weird rooster sculptures, as well as one strange china doll that stares directly into your soul and probably hosts a demon of some sort.

Thrifting has allowed me to explore different styles of clothing while still feeling comfortable in my own skin. I can dress however baggy I want and show people parts of my personality through the fabrics I display. I still have a long way to go in the realm of self-love, but I think thrifting has been a helping hand on my journey. It’s a great hobby, it’s good for the environment, and whenever I go, I always find what I didn’t know I was looking for.