THRIFTED

Content warning: discussions of fatphobia, diet culture and disordered eating.

For the longest time, I thought that size and age was a one-for-one trade-off. Newborn for newborn, six months for six months, and even two years for two years. But when I was a size 14 at fourteen years old, something was different.

I don’t know what it’s like to be seen, to shop and to exist as someone skinny or thin. I do know, however, what it's like to be forced into a corner, where yearning and any attempts to achieve thinness were the only ways to receive positive recognition for my body.

Most of my life has revolved around numbers and counting; age, grades, how many lipsticks I own, weight, the taunting number on MyFitnessPal. I'm not good at maths, but I can easily tell you the caloric value for one cup of jasmine, basmati, and brown rice.

Diet culture wears me better than clothes I can pick up at most fast-fashion stores (they don't stock higher than a size 18, you see). Sometimes, diet culture is cheaper than what I can shop for at ‘ethical’ stores, even those that do design for my body. Even in the seemingly safe space of a thrift store, diet culture awaits me in the number of thrift flips that exist in my size of T-shirt. How can you use what you have when what you need has only just started existing very recently?

I hear the hangers shing across the metal clothing rack at Savers, as I rifle through the maybe-ten skirts that could potentially fit my 26–28 frame. I’m hoping for a distressed denim skirt; preferably a light wash, or maybe even a hot, short pleather number, but I washed my expectations down to just a skirt. Please, just a skirt. I would love to find just a fucking skirt.

When I first went thrift shopping, I had to figure out the difference between something that was my size and something that could fit (cover) my body. Because when you’re told you’re bigger than the biggest size, you can’t imagine that there is something bigger. I was so used to the squeeze of fabrics, that seeing myself swallowed in them was confusingly euphoric. If you never knew clothes for you could exist, you will take anything that can cover your body; even if that means it is not your size.

They say that in the battle against fast fashion, slower fashion — like thrift shopping and buying from 'ethical' brands, is the way forward. But in the race to achieving sustainability, fat people often get left behind, especially those at the various intersections of fatness. Whilst thin folk are ahead, the baton has barely touched my hand and all I can see is fast fashion in front. As I wait, I am wondering — who the hell has organised this race? Why didn’t they at least wait for fat folk to reach the starting line before the starting gun went off? Who are we being sustainable for? Who is truly leading this race, and who else gets left behind?

My basket has the maximum ten items as I stand in the Savers changing room, but I have saved my hopes at the door. I carefully line up all my options on the left hook (I’m buying some time) my heart pacing up and down in my chest. Is the sweat from nerves or is this store a little stuffy?

I have a system. Clothes on the left hook, the right is reserved for hangers. Undress only what is necessary; try and keep whatever bottoms on for as long as possible. Try on. Back in the basket if it’s a go, bench if it’s a no, and definitely only look in the mirror front on. Three out of ten items make the basket (realistically two, but I told myself I would crop that one shirt to fit better). No skirt. The time that it takes me to put the discarded clothes back on their hangers, I use to stifle my sadness and disappointment. It’s not enough time to figure out if the disappointment is with the store, the system, or myself.

they/them

Claire (they/them) is well known to the dfloor.. well.. at least to the dfloor they’ve made at home. Some days, their wit is sharper than their eyeliner, but those days are rare. When not blending eyeshadow into oblivion, you might find them trying to figure out another way to dismantle oppressive systems and push QTPoC to the (what?) front.

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