The art of upcycling: Thrifters finding big business in 'secondhand' threads
Credit to Author: Aleesha Harris| Date: Fri, 15 Nov 2019 19:00:14 +0000
Scrolling through the social media feed of the Vancouver-based brand Boheme Goods is like stumbling upon a treasure trove of uniquely curated curios.
The picturesque images feature a fringed jacket crafted from buttery suede, a delicate minaudière in the shape of a pearl and on-trend gold tone earrings, each piece styled and photographed in a way that makes them look even more one-of-a-kind, and covetable.
It’s difficult to believe that each one used to belong to someone else.
Sarah Shabacon, founder of the online brand Boheme Goods.
“(It’s) vintage with stories and lives lived far beyond your walls,” Sarah Shabacon, the founder of the online brand, says.
Shabacon started the site in 2016 “on a whim” as a way of doing what she “loves” — thrifting — while also earning some extra money on the side.
“I actually opened the shop to do it very part-time so I could focus on being a mom, but also afford the little things in life,” she explains.
Since then, it has grown into a full-fledged brand boasting an online following of more than 90,000 on Instagram alone, as well as a platform for Shabacon to share her thoughts on style, sustainability and, as she puts it, “our planet’s future.”
“With the climate crisis finally being taken seriously, to an extent, I think consumers are becoming so much more aware of their shopping habits than ever before,” she says. “It’s now no longer a trend, but a part of what our environmental footprints will be, as individuals.”
For Shabacon, sifting through second-hand garments has, in many ways, been the only way she knows how to shop.
“Since I was a child I’ve perused the racks at thrift shops with my mom, where she would teach me about fabric and labels,” she recalls.
But that connection to thrifting doesn’t mean that she’s unaware of the fact that, for many people, the idea doesn’t come quite so naturally. And that’s what makes changing people’s perceptions of pre-loved treasures through her online offering so special.
“I’ve received several handwritten notes and emails from customers who said that Boheme has transformed the way they shop and feel,” she says. “To me, that is the greatest gift of what I do because, of course, I want my customers to love their purchases — but to know that I’ve helped someone in a positive way, gives me butterflies.
Shabacon recently received her 10,000th order. It was a “pretty exciting number to reach,” she says.
“I look at each order placed as someone choosing to shop something that’s already been in existence for decades rather than something produced a month ago by fast-fashion giants,” she says. “It all comes full-circle.”
Not to mention it has a positive effect on the planet too.
According to the documentary film The True Cost, 80 billion new pieces of clothing are purchased every year, a statistic that has increased more than 400 per cent over the past two decades.
The average North American throws away about 81 pounds of clothing and textiles, totalling 12 million tonnes each year into landfills, according to Value Village. And almost all of it — 95 per cent, according to the thrift store — could be reused or repurposed.
The staggering statistics have prompted sustainability to become a primary consideration for the founders of the brand Frankie Collective, which repurposes athletic-wear pieces into women’s streetwear threads. Though Drew Heifetz, who created the company alongside his brother Jesse, admits it wasn’t front-of-mind when they first created F As In Frank, a curated men’s vintage lineup, 10 years ago.
“During the creation of this company, we didn’t even talk about that or push that,” Heifetz says. “We didn’t even think about that because we didn’t think that (our customers) cared about that. But, once we started to talk about it, we realized that they do care about that.”
And, as it turns out, they seem to care about it, a lot.
“Before, I would have said the draw was to be unique, but now, we hear one of the key factors of why they’re into Frankie is because of the sustainable angle, which surprised me,” Sara Gourlay, the creative director of the brand, says. “Because I thought it was just all about the look before.”
Under Gourlay’s guidance, a team of Vancouver designers and sewers disassemble, cut up and reassemble athletic-wear pieces from the likes of Adidas, Reebok and Supreme into streetwear separates that have garnered Frankie a legion of young, female fans (more than 266,000 followers and counting on Instagram as well as collaborations with Tommy Hilfiger and The North Face) who love the sustainable element — and the one-off styles.
“Essentially, we’re designing for the youth. And that’s what they’re looking for,” Gourlay says.
Vancouver fashion brand Frankie Collective creates new pieces from thrifted garments.
According to Heifetz, the company diverts about 60,000 pounds of textiles from the landfill every year. To put that into perspective, 1,000 pounds of compressed clothes equals almost 200,000 garments, he says. The brand works with a Vancouver-based company called FABCYCLE, which works with designers, schools and factories to divert their textile waste, such as scraps or unused fabrics, from the landfill by recycling or reusing them.
“Per month, the brand makes approximately 5,000 garments, using textiles that would have otherwise largely ended up in a garbage heap,” Heifetz says. “And we’re looking to grow that. Our big mission is to create change, to create education around what we do. And to create a bigger impact in the fashion world.
“That’s kind of why we’re here. And that’s why we have expansion plans. It’s not really so much about the money for us, as it is about creating big, lasting change in the fashion industry.”
The growing popularity of vintage and reworked pieces hasn’t gone unnoticed by traditional retailers, as big-box brands are exploring the idea of taking the momentum from online into stores.
In the U.S., the retailers Macy’s and JCPenney offer a designated space for second-hand clothes via a partnership with the company ThredUP. At Hudson’s Bay, shoppers can discover pre-loved designer handbags from the likes of Louis Vuitton, Prada and Fendi at select LXR&CO shop-in-shops, which debuted at the department store’s Queen Street location in Toronto in 2014. The retailer recently inked a three-year deal with Frankie Collective for a shop-in-shop within the Topshop location at the Downtown Vancouver store, which opened last month.
According to Heifetz, the more brands and retailers who follow suit, the merrier.
“Reworking is everywhere right now, there are a lot of people doing it. We want to be supportive of this. We’re very happy about this. We’re super-stoked that it’s becoming mainstream,” he says. “Because, this is more about the bigger picture for us. If we can inspire other brands to start up and start doing this, great. Obviously, we have to remain relevant and stay one step ahead, putting out new styles all the time so that we are relevant in this fashion world, but we support more people selling, one hundred per cent. Because it is creating a solution to the fashion problem.”
Regardless of whether a garment is simply discovered at a thrift store and worn as-is, or ripped apart and made into something completely new, there’s a common thread among those who shop, wear and sell thrifted — or upcycled — garments. They seem to want to change things within the industry, for the better.
“Whatever you call it, passing on once-loved pieces is just as important as passing on knowledge, because it helps to make the planet a better place,” Shabacon says.