At the Buffalo Exchange buying counter (image pulled from exploringberkeley.wordpress.com)

I dug up a fantastic article by Reyhan Harmanci for the San Francisco Chronicle, Rag Trade: Cashing in on Vintage, or Just Old, Clothes. The article is written in 2005, but from what I’ve observed personally, here in Austin, the practice of professional pickers selling to BX (Buffalo Exchange) has only grown:

The opportunity to convert used clothing into cash has created a new job: professional seller. Known as “pickers,” professional sellers can be a blessing or a curse to a store, depending on their approach to their line of work and the store’s reliance on their goods. The push and pull at the buy counter between the buyer and seller can be contentious; at its best, it’s a symbiotic relationship, based on a singular love of fashion.

At its worst, it’s a parasitic situation, in which the picker leeches off the store, preying on inexperienced buyers or dealing in stolen merchandise. Buyers, too, can sour the deal by rejecting good clothing to spite the seller or copping an attitude that, as Mascola says, “makes you feel like you’re going to see your social worker.”

Again with the judgement/shame issue I’m mentioned in other BX posts. But where do these professional sellers find enough clothes worthy to pass the knowing eyes of the buyers… and still turn a profit?

Through a friend, he heard that the place to go to was As Is, a nickname for the giant Goodwill on Van Ness and Market streets that wheels out bins of newly donated clothing every morning. “I started to get clued in, looking around at what was current, started reading fashion magazines for inspiration.

“Now I treat it like an art form,” he says, without a smile. Although Mascola has sold clothing at least once a week for six years, it’s never been a full-time job. “The profit margin is too thin; it would be too hard,” he says. “It’s more like a hobby.” He does allow that selling clothes beefs up his income from his retail job in the Castro.

from textile_fetish photostream on flickr

The Austin version of the ‘As Is’ in San Francisco? The Blue Hangar. There, I’ve said it. The secret is out in the open, and surely I’ve made an enemy or two. And the only reason I’m revealing this juicy little secret (that’s sort of out and about with the insiders, anyways) is because my day job prevents me from regular digs and pays me enough to just go buy the stuff for a higher price all pre-picked and sized at BX anyways.

The Blue Hangar on Springdale is supposedly where the clothes that have been sitting unsold on the racks for over three weeks at the regular Goodwills go to be tossed in piles on giant tables and sold for $1.25 a piece. They clear the tables and replace with fresh stock once, sometimes twice, a day and at that point the still unsold goods are compacted into bales and sold as such, often to third world countries. But a few years ago on one particularly stellar run, I quizzed the employee checking me out about the sources and she told me that often when the Goodwill stores were full and they were getting more donations than the stores could process, they’ll send the overflow straight to the Blue Hanger, unsorted. Ah ha! I knew the things that I found wouldn’t have lasted three weeks in the Goodwill store. So folks, right at the end of the month when everyone is moving and ditching stuff is THE time to hit the Blue Hanger.

I’ve shopped there for years, and during my last unemployment stint I’d go and load up with a combination of items for myself… and items to sell at BX. It’s super tricky, because you really have to know what those buyers want. I was pretty much able to break even and cover my costs of the whole run, but then again I took BX credit not cash. I was still out a wee bit of cash overall, but got to shop at BX basically for the cost of my time. I’d occasionally see BX employees there digging, too, but my costumer friend who’s there all the time has said that recently its intensified. And on a recent BX sell, I got into a conversation with a buyer who told me about a friend who was supporting her live music/drinking habit through selling finds from the Blue Hanger to BX.

Which brings up an accusation I’ve heard many times that BX employees favor their friends, or friends of friends, or ‘cool people’ when buying. (more…)

How did we live before Google? A blog search turned up this fabulous insider post from Indiana Adams of Adored Austin: Indiana worked at Buffalo Exchange (heretofore abbreviated as ‘BX’) as a buyer, so she knows of what she speaks. It’s so good I’m going to block quote most of it:

I’ll admit that selling your clothes to Buffalo Exchange can be a little bit daunting. The worst is when you go in with several trash bags full of clothes and the buyer maybe buys the one thing that you threw in there as a joke and then passes on all your really awesome stuff that you thought for sure they’d offer you a billion dollars for. Then you have to do the walk of shame to your car with your bags still full!

Indiana Adams sports an outfit on her blog, 'Adored Austin'

Kids, you’re not alone in that walk of shame. Remember, this is coming from a buyer.

Believe me, this happens way more often than not, but it’s not because they crazy fashionista behind the counter hates your guts and despises your personal style. If they’re passing on things that you think they should have bought, here’s some reasons why:
1. They may already have a lot of what you’re selling in the store.
2. The store could be really, really full so they’ve been instructed to be incredibly selective until the racks empty up a bit.
3. The items you’re selling may not be in season, yet.

Since I’ve never been afraid to strike up a friendly, non-defensive chat with the buyers du jour, I’ve heard them tell me (and others) much of the same thing. And a little personal observation? Even though it’s not supposed to matter which buyer you get and they do a whole lot of second opinions with each other… it totally matters which buyer you get. The fashion eye is a subjective thing. period.

Before I worked there, it was hard to sell there. For me, my clothes are an extension of who I am. If they didn’t buy my clothes, that means they didn’t like my clothes, and that means that they don’t like the way I dress, and that means they don’t like me, and that means I should just go eat worms and cry in a corner.

Exactly. So well put, Indiana. This is why my friends who’ve felt the sting of the walk of shame can get forever soured. But to their credit, I noticed that a few years ago when I returned to Austin after a few years away at grad school, the buyers were now making a deliberate effort to be nice and kind, even if there was sometimes a bit of strain, kinda like a waitress voice. (I don’t blame them one bit, I’ve been a waitress…)

But after I worked there, I found out that there’s just so much more to it than that. And besides, there’s no reason to be embarrassed if the buyer doesn’t buy your stuff. One time a dude came in with (this is not a joke!) two trash bags full of jock straps and sweat socks. Those are the kind of people who should be embarrassed. I mean, really. What in the world was he doing with so many jock straps? And why in the world did he think I’d be able to resell them at Buffalo Exchange? Um, gross.

Really? Wow. Someone buy those kids and industrial strength mega bottle of Purell, please!

Austin Buffalo Exchange

This will be the first post in a series exploring both the behind the scenes mechanics as well as cultural implications of the buying process at Buffalo Exchange. I’ll also be repeatedly stating, for the record, that if you give me $100 to spend on clothing in one store in Austin, it would be Buffalo Exchange - it’s my favorite place to shop and I always consider it a triumph to trade in as much - or even more - than I spend on merchandise. I have, as such, always harbored a keen fascination for the buying process - both from the perspective of a seller as well as an armchair urban fashion anthropologist.

Today I’m going to highlight some excerpts from a Time Magazine article I dug up from a couple of years ago that articulates the psychology of seller’s anxiety. Anita Hamilton writes in The New Trend of Used Clothes:

Viki Stevenson stands behind the counter, passing fashion judgment.

With the rare exception of those fashionistas who’s entire bag gets bought, anyone who’s ever sold to ‘The Buffy’ knows this feeling. And speak with anyone who’s had their entire bag (or the vast majority of it) rejected and they might just go off on a tirade somewhat similar in tone to telling the story of being rejected at a party by someone you were trying to chat up. People take it personally; I know I have, even though I understand that they have a business imperative to buy what they know will sell. Still, it is a judgement of one’s taste - do you have so many fabulous clothes that the ones you’re tired of still maintain cash value? Or are your cast offs long since out of fashion or even worse, never in style to begin with.

It can provoke all those junior high anxieties of being judged and teased by ‘the cool kids’, even if you supposedly didn’t care what they had to say.

This quickening cycle of fashion lets secondhand stores be pickier than ever. Unlike nonprofits such as Goodwill and the Salvation Army, which accept most donations, the fast-fashion resale shops typically buy only about 5% of the apparel that people bring into the store. It can be a humbling experience for a novice seller, who may find herself leaving the shop with the same bag of castoffs that she walked in with.

Only 5%? I had no idea, I’d love to find out more details on that statistic. Now I don’t feel as bad when they only take about a third of what I bring in.

And it also speaks to the fact that even though recycling is the eco thing to do, most of the clothes hanging on the racks *new* don’t have enough fashion mojo to hold their value and make it through the gatekeepers to have a second life… that someone will pay for. To those who are feeling the sting of rejection, think about this - if Buffalo Exchange took most of what people brought in, it would look a heck of a lot like Goodwill.

The rise of fast fashion, which uses a speeded-up production cycle to rush designer-inspired clothes to moderately priced retailers like Zara and H&M, has breathed new life into secondhand stores like Buffalo Exchange by boosting their supply of barely worn apparel. “H&M is our bread and butter,” says Stevenson, 27, as she flips through a carousel of blouses from H&M, American Apparel, Benetton and the Gap with prices ranging from $7.50 to $14 apiece.

Since more shoppers are loading up on cheap chic every few weeks instead of purchasing a few higher-priced basics once every few months, they’re less sentimental about quickly unloading them to help finance the next round.

But what happens when people stop buying as much fast fashion? I love recycling, don’t get me wrong, but ever since my first thrift forays 2 decades ago I’ve been keenly aware that my opportunities as such - to recycle but still be fashionable - are entirely dependent on others excessive consumerism. As soon as that starts to dip, it’s going to be a lot more competitive - and expensive to find the finds.