The bad, the worse, and the Instagram resellers
A cute vintage digicam is for sale on your Instagram feed. It costs P13,499 and there’s an additional fee for the universal camera charger. Even if you could afford it, someone has already commented “MINE” the second it was posted.
Instagram reselling turned what was once a fun activity to do with friends—sifting through racks of clothes and anik-anik at the ukay-ukay—into an online battle of who has more money to bid on an item that was probably bought for P50. Thrifted items pose as couture on the app, with prices twice or even thrice their original price.
Thrifting, made to be accessible, has now been replaced with a system that manufactures exclusivity.
The ukay-ukay has always been the solution for people who do not have the means to buy clothes from more expensive brands. Understandably, they are frustrated not only at the marked-up prices but also at resellers who often hoard all the good pieces.
Although many resellers still try to keep prices low, the overall culture of Instagram reselling seems to exploit the “exclusivity” of thrift shops’ one-of-a-kind pieces. It appears aiming for profit has exceeded the desire to preserve the joy of thrift shopping.
The thrill of stumbling upon a hidden gem at a local thrift store has been overshadowed by the instant gratification of scrolling through perfectly curated posts of very expensive pieces. Thrift shoppers have been left with no choice but to oblige with the “new thrift shopping experience” since Instagram resellers clear out all the good stuff in the ukay-ukay stores we know and love.
The very essence of affordability and uniqueness that drew people to thrift shopping has now changed, replaced with a system that manufactures exclusivity and inaccessibility.
