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In Indian homes, reuse has long been a form of care — from mending sarees to passing down kurtas across generations. Today, that ethos has evolved into a digital-era fashion movement. As Instagram thrift stores transform pre-owned clothing into curated style, India’s thrift culture sits at the intersection of sustainability, identity, and commerce. This article traces how domestic traditions of repair and reuse have grown into an aspirational fashion economy — and the new challenges of class, accessibility, and authenticity that accompany its rise.
In Indian households, the tradition of hand-me-downs and the culture of rafoo—or the art of mending, patching, and repurposing worn garments—have sustained old garments across generations. Passing a kurta from an elder sibling to a younger cousin, repairing a favourite saree with careful embroidery and patchwork, or turning an old shirt into a child’s play outfit are everyday acts that turn scarcity into continuity. Once, these practices framed reuse as sensible, personal, and familial rather than commercial or stigmatised in South Asian societies. For many older Indians, the act of wearing pre-owned clothing was not a lifestyle choice but a result of household labour and familial thrift culture — a form of care that preserved both value and memory.
Thrifting’s evolution in India is a study in cultural reinvention — a practice that has moved from charitable necessity to a mainstream style economy and now faces a reckoning over accessibility and authenticity. Born in the late 19th century as a way of converting donated goods into social support, pre-owned retail gradually normalised the circulation of used clothing. For much of the 20th century, thrift stores in the Western world served practical needs: affordable garments for individuals under financial strain and occasional vintage finds for the fashion-conscious and curious consumers. But alongside these institutional origins, deeply rooted domestic practices in places like India cultivated their own economies of reuse long before “thrifting” became a global buzzword.
From the 1960s onward, global countercultural movements repurposed pre-owned garments as expressions of identity; by the 2010s, pop-cultural moments and social media made thrifting aspirational. In India, this shift collided with longstanding domestic behaviours: what had once been primarily about necessity and careful mending began to be reimagined as creative consumption. The COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020 accelerated that transition. With physical stores closed and attention shifting online, Instagram and other platforms have become marketplaces for curated pre-loved clothing. Closet cleanses, themed drops, and influencer-led sales turned what people once handed down into curated objects of desire.
That digital boom expanded access and attention, but it also introduced tensions. The same platforms that showcased repaired, sentimental garments now amplified boutique curation and premium resale. As thrift culture gained cachet, prices rose and the sector professionalised: celebrity closet sales and authenticated luxury resellers reframed pre-owned as high-end consumption, threatening the affordability that made thrift stores community resources. Concurrently, the influx of fast-fashion rejects into donation streams, the rise of resellers who buy to flip for profit, and instances of misrepresented “vintage” goods online have complicated the ethics of the market.
These changing dynamics have produced a paradox. Practices like rafoo and hand-me-downs emphasise repair, longevity and intergenerational reuse; yet modern resale ecosystems often reward turnover and scarcity spectacle. The environmental logic of reuse is sound only when pre-owned purchases replace new production rather than enabling more consumption. As a result, when thrift racks are cleared by resellers or priced beyond reach, the people who relied on thrifting as a necessity are the most disadvantaged.
Today the pre-owned market is bifurcating: on one hand, some thrift stores have become hyper-curated, tech-enabled and brand-aligned; while others have remained local, practical and community-oriented — closer to the domestic tradition of repair and passing down. The future of thrifting in India will depend on whether this sector can reconcile those roots with commercial growth: whether it can preserve the ethic of rafoo and hand-me-down generosity even as it scales, and whether technology and policy can protect accessibility while policing authenticity. Thrifting’s current moment is both a cultural triumph and a test — to ensure that a movement premised on prolonging garments does not lose sight of the domestic practices and social needs that first made reuse a way of life.
Here are five thrift stores defining thrift culture across India:
A go-to destination for Mumbai’s conscious fashion crowd, Chyndy in Bandra West curates and upcycles trend-forward thrift finds with a distinct Gen-Z edge. From Y2K silhouettes to upcycled vintage denim, the store celebrates playful individuality while keeping sustainability front and centre with its "nothing wasted, everything transformed" motto. Follow Chyndy here.
Thrift Fiction is a Bengaluru thrift store specialising in timeless vintage pieces, carefully selected from various sources around the world, featuring unique treasures that combine nostalgia with classic style. Renowned for its well-curated collections, minimalist aesthetic, and loyal online community, it is one of Bengaluru’s most cherished ethical fashion destinations. Follow Thrift Fiction here.
Nestled in the lively streets of Hauz Khas village, Kawai Fuku is a boutique thrift shop renowned for its playful, street-style aesthetic and carefully selected Y2K fashion pieces. The store combines the minimalism of Japanese streetwear with the vibrant energy of New Delhi, offering a collection of fun silhouettes, vintage and vintage-inspired accessories, and contemporary styles. Its name—meaning “cute clothes” in Japanese—embodies the store’s youthful yet thoughtful approach to fashion. Kawai Fuku exemplifies how small, independent shops are transforming urban style in the national capital. Follow Kawai Fuku here.
Located in Chromepet, Exchange Garage is a thrift and consignment store redefining sustainable fashion in Chennai. It operates on a buy–sell–trade model, encouraging customers to declutter responsibly while discovering affordable, unique styles, offering a refreshing alternative to fast fashion. With its warm atmosphere and loyal young shoppers, it embodies Chennai’s movement toward conscious, circular fashion based on reuse and rethinking consumption. Follow Exchange Garage here.
Founded in 2020, Love Me Twice is one of India’s first curated thrift stores, with locations in Kolkata and Bengaluru. It started as a small rack inside Monō Calcutta, then grew into a full store after busy sellouts showed demand for mindful consumption. Love Me Twice promotes extending the life of quality garments, offering a sustainable alternative to fast fashion. Its Kolkata store is in a century-old Art Deco building that also houses Skinny Mo’s Jazz Club and Nutcase, while the Bengaluru store is in a calm Indiranagar home shared with a plant-based café, a bookstore, and a sustainable clothing label, making each visit a relaxed experience in conscious living. Follow Love Me Twice here.
