Secondhand Sunday used to be simple. It was about encouraging people to shop secondhand for practical reasons: saving money, finding unique pieces, and stretching a family budget a little further. It was also about pushing back against the old stigma that thrifting was only for people who “couldn’t afford better.”

Fast forward to the 2010s, and the story changed. Thrifting moved online. Reselling exploded on eBay, Poshmark, Mercari. YouTube and TikTok filled up with haul videos and “come thrifting with me” vlogs. Somewhere along the way, the conversation shifted from “great deals” to “saving the planet.”

Let’s be clear. Keeping things out of landfills matters. Waste matters. Fast fashion has consequences. But we cannot put the entire weight of environmental repair on individual shoppers wandering through Goodwill. Trying to personally offset the world’s carbon impact through your closet alone will not just exhaust you, it may turn you into a hoarder with a very self-righteous reason for every overflowing bin.

This post is not environmental activism. It is about something far simpler and far more human: the habit of shaming each other.

I grew up when thrift stores were for the kids who “didn’t have money” and the mall was where you went if you were “doing well.” Now, the script has flipped. If you do not thrift, or if you buy new, or if your kid wears a Walmart shirt, people online are ready to scold you. We went from being shamed for going to thrift stores to being shamed for not going to them.

Meanwhile, prices at many thrift stores have climbed so high that fast fashion is often cheaper. In this economy, I can sometimes clothe a child more affordably at Walmart than at Goodwill. That is the reality on the ground, not in theory, not in think pieces, but in people’s actual bank accounts.

And here is the truth most of us forget when we start wagging fingers: most people are not trying to harm the environment. They are trying to clothe their children, go to work with dignity, feel decent in what they wear, and keep the lights on. They are doing their best inside financial constraints we may know nothing about.

So, here is my take on Secondhand Sunday now:

Stop shaming people for what they can or cannot afford.
Stop assigning morality to clothing labels.
Stop pretending the entire climate crisis hangs on whether a mom orders pajamas from Temu.

If you are deeply concerned about environmental impact, then direct your energy toward the industries and individuals generating the most of it. Private jets. Massive manufacturing systems. Corporations outsourcing cheap labor and mass production. That is where power sits, not in your neighbor picking up socks at Target.

Secondhand shopping can be wonderful. It can be creative, sustainable, economical, and fun. But it should not become another measuring stick for virtue or worth.

Let’s bring Secondhand Sunday back to what it could actually stand for:
less judgment, more compassion, more community, and more room for people to make the choices they need to survive.

Love your neighbor.
Help when you can.
And let people wear what they can afford without putting a moral scorecard on their backs.

That is the real shift we need.