I have a lot of anxiety about waste — food waste, single use plastic, water, electricity, you name it. I spend the days leading up to a trip mapping out how I I can use every scrap of produce in the fridge, making stocks and stews for the freezer. I save every plastic clamshell that comes into the house to transport tomatoes and delicate fruit from at the farmers market, and I make the kids use empty toilet paper tubes as craft supplies. After a photoshoot, I canvas the neighborhood distributing leftovers, from styled food to half empty cartons of milk. If you’re the kind of person who leaves the TV on when you leave the room, don’t invite me over.
When we had kids I felt a real push-pull between this consumerist drive to solve every problem with an Amazon order, and images of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch that haunt me in my sleep. (For paid subscribers, I have included my spreadsheet for things you actually need for a newborn, all the bullshit redacted). But after the initial hazing period of parenthood, I settled back into my frugal ways. I transitioned into a world of hand-me-downs (highly suggest having kids right after your best friend so you’re downstream of that flow), but eventually, the hand me downs dried up. We were on our own.
At around the age of 3, Red started to develop an acute sense of personal style — high femme meets hungover ballerina, in stark contrast to the gender-neutral palette I had provided. She was gravitationally pulled towards synthetic fabrics, pink, purple, and plastic sequins. It pained me to spend money on PFAFS masquerading as fancy dress, but I also remember how I felt when I was a kid and my mom only wanted to buy me things she deemed, “flattering.” After all, it’s her body, and the sooner I get on board with that, the better.
My solution was simple — I decided nearly everything that came in or out of our possession would be secondhand. On average, I don’t spend more than $20 on a single item, so I’m not crestfallen when it comes back stained after the first wear, or worse, rejected at first sight. Moreover, I became addicted to the hunt, with a roster of resources for buying and selling. I was able to find steals on some of the brands I would never pay full price for, but satisfied mom and child equally (the holy grail! More on that behind the paywall).
Can I afford to spend money on my kids’ clothing? Yes. But the pursuit is part of the fun, and hopefully, I am a model for the kids of a more conscious consumption in a world where we all have to take responsibility for our individual impact.
Now, please enjoy this video of my child dressed as a lobster, wreaking havoc in my favorite thrift store.
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