Three new looks, no new clothes – my secondhand styleover

We challenge sustainable stylists to create three on-trend outfits for our (fussy) fashion editor. Can they make her look bang up to date in only used clothes?

 

what I want, right now. Something new to look at in the mirror. The surprisingly powerful illusion of a new me that a fresh fit can provide. The psychological shot in the arm of a wardrobe update. These are all good things. Mood-boosting, confidence-lifting, energy-giving, positive things. But, here’s the problem. Those things are good things, yes, but the environmental impact of a new-clothes spree? Not so much. And, since I have a wardrobe full of perfectly serviceable clothes, I can’t possibly justify the carbon footprint – or the price tag – of a trip to the shops.

But … hang on a minute. Maybe there’s a way. What if the new clothes were … old clothes? A fresh look from secondhand clothes would be a win-win, right? Not only are pre-loved clothes more sustainable than new clothes, they are much cheaper. And they are more fashionable than new clothes, because, unless you have been hiding under a rock for the past two years, you will have noticed that secondhand is cool. “It’s vintage/secondhand/pre-loved/my mum’s” is now the fashion flex that trumps any designer label.

So we’ve called in the experts. The rise of secondhand fashion has powered a new breed of industry insider who is laser-focused on pre-loved clothes. Stylists who work exclusively with secondhand buys, personal shoppers who know all the tricks of the trade from where to go to how to spot a bargain – these are the new numbers to have on speed dial.

We set three such stylists a secondhand challenge to update my look, using only old clothes. We asked sustainable-fashion expert Chekii Harling to source an office-appropriate look, sustainable stylist Becky Barnes to dress me for a party, and Natalie Hartley, founder of vintage store Chillie London, to rustle up a weekend fit. Everything had to be secondhand but look bang up-to-date. I didn’t want to look retro, or vintage. I wasn’t in the market for nostalgia. I wanted the dopamine rush of an old-fashioned hit-the-shops shopping spree, without the eco-remorse.