By Ella Miller
In her cozy college apartment, SMU senior Lauren Hastings has transformed a corner of her living room into a mini photo studio. A mannequin stands by the window, draped in a carefully selected piece from her wardrobe.
Natural light filters through the blinds as she adjusts a chiffon top, making sure it looks just right before snapping photos for her Depop shop. Hastings has spent the past few years reselling her own clothing — turning past purchases into a steady stream of side income from items that have collected dust in her closet.
“It was a perfect way to make some money on the side and buy new clothes that I actually liked,” she said. “In a good month of selling on Depop, I can usually make around $250. If I’m inconsistent, there can be a pause or I can make around $100 a month.”
She’s not alone. In Dallas, where luxury boutiques meet vintage gems and Generation Z shoppers are turning personal style into profit, secondhand fashion is becoming a staple. Younger consumers are embracing resale not just as a trend, but as part of their everyday shopping habits—clearing out closets, selling online, and choosing secondhand first.
According to ThredUp’s 2025 Resale Report, the U.S. secondhand apparel market grew 14% in 2024—five times faster than the broader retail clothing market. Globally, the secondhand market is projected to reach $367 billion by 2029, growing 2.7 times faster than the overall apparel market.
Younger generations are leading the shift. ThredUp’s Resale Report projects that by 2029, shoppers aged 18-44 will make up 68% of all secondhand spending. Along with this shift, online resale in the U.S. is expected to nearly double, reaching $40 billion, by 2029.
For many college students, resale is both practical and aspirational. In an era of rising prices—consumer prices rose an average of 4.1% between 2022 and 2023, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics—it’s a way to make fashion feel fun again without breaking the bank or compromising values.
Hastings remembers watching a friend go viral on Depop in 2020, earning up to $2,000 a month reselling pieces from her own closet. She learned how to photograph inventory, dress a mannequin, and write compelling captions something that’s only gotten easier with Depop’s new AI-assisted listings.
“Depop has an AI feature where when you post an item and you put the pictures up, it’ll come up with a caption for you,” she said. “It takes less, like, brain power.”
Though she’s experimented with Poshmark, Hastings prefers Depop’s younger, more curated vibe: Poshmark, she said, “feels like Facebook to me. And then Depop feels like Instagram.”
Her most consistent sellers? Trendy fast fashion pieces from brands like I.AM.GIA and Tiger Mist. However, Hastings, like many of her peers, is also rethinking how she shops.
“I try to buy less of things,” she said. “So I buy maybe more expensive, higher quality
items, and I buy fewer of them.”
This rise of interest in sustainable fashion has reached SMU. In fact, a sustainable fashion club launched in late March, promoting eco-friendly fashion practices.
Last week, the club hosted its first event—a clothing swap held on Dallas Hall Lawn—and the turnout blew them away.
“We weren’t expecting that many people to come,” club president Mari Sato said. “We were drowning in clothes by the end.”
Students brought everything from full closet clean-outs to just a few items. Some traded, some donated, and others simply browsed.
“It just indicates a growing awareness of the need to be mindful about your consumption,” Sato said.
Leftover clothes were donated to Genesis Women’s Shelter, giving pieces a second life beyond SMU.
“By throwing events like this—where it’s easy to make a sustainable choice—we’re
hoping to get people to think more about the choices they make when it comes to
clothing,” Sato said.
The enthusiasm for resale isn’t just showing up in clubs—it’s happening in closets too.
Another SMU senior, Marcela Valenzuela, recently began selling on Poshmark after
years of having the app on her phone.
“I realized that I had too many clothes in my closet, and nothing was fitting,” she said. “At one point, I was like, wait, [it’s] honestly, really easy to sell…I used to think it was hard, but it’s not.”
She mainly lists formal dresses, well-worn basics, and even some gently damaged
pieces she no longer uses.
Earlier this spring, she sold a SKIMS dress that originally cost her $100.
“I sold it for $50, and I only got $38,” she said. While Poshmark takes a cut of her
earnings, the platform’s pricing tools help guide users on what their items are worth.
Like many Gen Z consumers, Valenzuela is shopping more intentionally these days.
“I think I’ve kind of just been more inclined to buying more pieces that I know I’m gonna have forever,” she said.
Though she’s only bought one item on the app so far, her positive experience leaves
her excited to explore more on platforms like Depop and The RealReal.
Beyond online platforms, Dallas has its own resale scene. Local spots like Clotheshorse Anonymous and Uptown Cheapskate offer everything from trendy fast fashion to high-end designer pieces.
Jennifer Mayrath, manager at Clotheshorse Anonymous, shared her insight during a
recent SMU Look styling panel.
“With the pre-loved, we price usually about a third of retail,” she said. “And then you’re supporting circular economy, and hopefully, that piece, when you’re tired of [it], you can turn around and sell it and get some value.”
Known for its designer handbags, shoes, jewelry, and clothes, Clotheshorse
Anonymous has become a go-to for Dallas shoppers who want to mix sustainability with style.
Ken Weber, owner of Dallas-based boutique Vintage Martini, says he’s watched the
industry change dramatically.
“There were very few stores and only a savvy bunch were smart enough to realize
resale quality and price,” Weber said via email. “With the internet and especially social media, half the country are either sellers or fashion influencers. The amount of stores has quadrupled in the last several years.”
Weber says even those with high spending power are now shopping consignment.
“With the price of luxury brands, even people that have the money to purchase new still look for a Chanel jacket bargain,” he said.
Experts say the rise of secondhand fashion isn’t just about the money—it’s about shifting values. Annette Becker, director of the Texas Fashion Collection at the University of North Texas, said the cultural perception of resale has transformed.
“I think the reason that people are more interested and willing to wear secondhand clothing is because luxury fashion and dressing to communicate status has become such an important way that many people dress themselves,” she said. “Even if they
don’t necessarily have the means to do that with new clothing, a secondhand market is a way for people to attain that proximity.”
Becker frames this movement as part of a broader shift toward conscious consumerism, emphasizing the importance of community awareness: “We are always in community with other people, whether or not we want to acknowledge that.”
She encourages consumers to reflect on the journey of their garments, considering
“how many hands have touched the garments that you are purchasing to be self-
actualized,” highlighting the interconnectedness inherent in fashion choices.
Even with resale growing eight times faster than the broader retail sector in 2024,
experts like Becker say the supply isn’t going anywhere. “There will always be this
surplus of materials, and there will be a market for that.”
For Dallas resale shoppers and sellers, motivations vary. Some want extra cash. Some want to reduce waste. Some just want to stand out.
“I think it allows people to be more unique in their style,” Hastings said. “You can find
pieces that are one of a kind and then I think it also opens the door for people to
sustainably clean out their closets, make money, and just kind of repurpose things.”
Whether it’s a side hustle, a sustainable statement, or simply a way to score a deal,
resale in Dallas is no longer a niche activity. It’s fashion’s new normal.
