The Depopification of Thrifting

Kimy Pedersen

I’m sure most people reading this—namely people interested in sustainable fashion—are aware of Depop, the app where people can buy and sell their clothes using a photo format similar to Instagram to market their items. It’s a place where many young people go to thrift clothing, with the ability to expand their options to a global selection. 

 Online thrifting is not a new concept. There are several apps and websites for this purpose that have been around for the last 10-12 years, and websites like eBay and Craigslist for general second-hand shopping have been around even longer. However, Depop has managed to stand out and arguably become the epitome of online thrifting. 

 The company describes itself as “a place where millions of users come to celebrate their style and discover culture,” and their mission is to be the “community-powered fashion ecosystem that’s kinder on the planet and kinder to people.” Although it is difficult to succinctly describe the vibe of Depop style, the trained eye can identify it on the street by its unique, quirky, sometimes alternative clothing characterized by experimental shapes and textures of fabric and emerging fashion aesthetics such as “Y2K” and “fairycore.”

Depop is exciting because it is an online marketplace, allowing people to thrift the pieces or styles they desire and have them delivered straight to their door without searching through racks of clothing at physical stores. However, the Depop method of thrifting has been criticized for causing a gentrification of second-hand shopping. Similar to other platforms such as Vinted or Poshmark, Depop buyers have the option to make offers or negotiate prices yet sellers ultimately set their own prices and sell clothing on their own terms. While this freedom is an exciting prospect for both sellers and buyers, it has also led to unreasonably high markups on clothing, the justification often being that the pieces match one of Depop’s aesthetic trends or are considered “vintage”. Aside from my own observations, I’ve seen lots of discourse across the Internet over this phenomenon, including videos of TikTok users reacting to overpriced Depop listings,  amassing thousands of likes and views as well as several articles discussing the gentrification caused by Depop resellers. Many Depop sellers are criticized for bulk-buying cheap items from their local thrift stores, taking away options from people who rely on their low prices and upselling the clothing to a global audience of wealthier people who are able and willing to pay more.

Depop reselling culture has made its way to brick-and-mortar stores. I’ve personally seen this in my hometown in California which has become saturated with new-age “vintage” boutiques; they are essentially heavily curated thrift stores that feature several vendors with overpriced items fitting specific aesthetics ranging between $20-150 (£16-120). These items are often stained, damaged, or sloppily altered. I once saw a “raw-hem” tank top (a shirt which had been cut shorter with scissors and now at risk of fraying) for $15 (£12). In my opinion, the pricing of these clothing items do not reflect the quality of the material or the brand which the pieces originated from, and there’s often no real way to know if most of these items are authentically vintage. Most of these pieces appear to have been sourced from charity shops or outlets and upsold to socially conscious yet impressionable people, essentially becoming the physical manifestation of the gentrification perpetuated by Depop, which I dub “depopification”.

With the rising number of thrifters and resellers buying second-hand clothing, brick-and-mortar thrift stores have raised their prices, particularly in university towns with lots of young, progressive people who are expected to enjoy thrifting or potentially become resellers themselves. I’ve observed this, particularly from the for-profit Goodwill in my hometown, where presently I cannot find a single piece of clothing less than $7 (£6), and finding basic clothing staples without stains has become frighteningly difficult. These rising prices have also been criticized online by those who depend on thrifting for low prices, as seen in this viral Tweet from 2022, where an unhoused person documents how inaccessible thrifting has become for them:

Another example is this Reddit post from r/poshmark, where a user writes about their local thrift store upselling trousers previously priced at Kohl’s department store for $12 (£9) for an even higher price.

I assume we’re all aware that before thrifting became widely recognized as a method for shopping sustainably, brick-and-mortar thrift stores have long been places where people who rely on low prices, such as students, low-income families, or unhoused people could find lots of clothing they need, and that they can afford. The rising amount of resellers bulk-buying decent clothing and upselling it on Depop for the purpose of satisfying demand for trends and aesthetics, followed by the vendor resellers who do the same in curated vintage boutiques, perpetuates and accelerates the gentrification of thrifting, compromising those who shop second-hand out of necessity rather than solely for supporting sustainable fashion. And is that outcome truly sustainable? But with all this depopification of second-hand shopping, is Depop fully to blame? It is hard to determine whether Depop is the main reason for this because in general, with a rise in demand for second-hand clothing due to rampant inflation and a higher cost of living, so do the prices. However, I feel that the prevailing Depop culture and the gentrification of second-hand shopping that the app has become synonymous with is a symptom of a larger problem fundamentally at odds with the pursuit of sustainable fashion.

In theory, Depop has a lot to offer to sustainable fashion and second-hand shopping culture. But considering the present greedy culture of fashion in general, it’s almost inevitable for an attempt at sustainability to become yet another part of the problem. This article is by no means a call to abandon Depop and completely reject online thrifting. I have bought and sold clothing on Depop for years, and have no intention of deleting my account. When used thoughtfully and consciously, I believe it can be an exciting and innovative way to expand your options for thrifting and is more sustainable than buying fast fashion or even most second-hand clothing. However, we must all acknowledge that there exists a fundamental tension between the ephemerality of fashion versus the endurance of sustainability. It is important to remember that while Depop heavily implies that they wish to pioneer sustainable fashion, it is still a company that wants to profit as much as possible. This is apparent following Etsy’s acquisition of Depop for $1.6 billion USD (£1.3B) in 2021. Etsy has been criticized for adding high transaction fees for sellers,  negatively affecting their profit in pursuit of their own, so it comes as no surprise that following this purchase, Depop has increased their transaction fees in addition to a 10% Depop listing fee they charge sellers to maximize the company’s profit. These higher fees only serve to perpetuate higher markups as more money is taken from sellers.

It’s also important to remember that this is also the case with brick-and-mortar stores. With the increasing number of thrifters and resellers, many of these vintage and thrift stores also prioritize maximizing their profit over promoting accessibility. This is why alternative forms of practicing sustainable shopping that don’t prioritize profit are important, such as clothing swaps, upcycling, and even making your own garments. 

Aim to be conscious of where your money is going when buying second-hand. If you’re shopping at a for-profit store, is your money supporting a local business? Or if the store is part of a chain, does it support a charity? If you have the privilege, vote with your money. Don’t buy things you think are overpriced unless you really need them. Do your best to strike a balance between the natural maximalism that comes with a love of fashion, and the commitment to avoiding excessive consumerism. 

While we want to strike a balance between style and necessity, we must remember the fundamental importance of affordable, accessible clothing to achieve this. Keeping this option available for people is essential to promoting sustainability as it allows more people the option to partake in sustainable fashion. If the option of second-hand buying is exhausted for the majority of people, the “community-powered ecosystem” of globally sustainable fashion is going to rip apart at the seams.

Photo sources in order : - (@nicolebuizonn on Pinterest) -(Photo credit: @ellenwalker95 on Pinterest) -(example of a curated “vintage” boutique, photo credit @stylemepretty from Pinterest) -@audreyycalhoun pinterest -depop logo