Thrifting Trend in Singapore: Sustainability or Just Another Shopping Spree?

In the heart of Singapore’s bustling Orchard Road, a new player in the second-hand fashion scene has drawn eager crowds. The Japanese thrift store chain 2nd Street opened its first outlet at 313@somerset on April 29, 2025, marking a significant moment for the city-state’s growing thrifting culture. Hours before the doors swung open, long queues snaked around the building, a testament to the allure of pre-loved goods—especially the promise of bargain luxury finds. But behind the excitement lies a deeper question: is thrifting in Singapore a genuine step toward sustainability, or merely another layer of consumerism dressed in eco-friendly rhetoric?

The Rise of Thrifting in Singapore

The arrival of 2nd Street, a brand already beloved across Japan for its curated selection of pre-loved clothing and accessories, taps into a burgeoning trend in Singapore. Thrifting—once a niche activity associated with flea markets and charity shops—has evolved into a mainstream pastime. For many, it offers the thrill of uncovering unique pieces, from vintage designer bags to one-of-a-kind streetwear, often at a fraction of the original cost. A vintage Prada bag for under US$300, as one avid thrifter recounted, is the kind of find that fuels this passion.

Yet, the appeal goes beyond personal style. The fashion industry is one of the world’s largest polluters, contributing roughly 10% of global carbon emissions and consuming vast amounts of water and resources. Extending the life cycle of clothing through second-hand purchases is, in theory, a powerful antidote. By keeping items in circulation, thrifting reduces the demand for new production and prevents usable goods from ending up in landfills. In a city like Singapore, where consumption is a way of life, this shift holds particular promise.

A Double-Edged Sword

However, the reality of thrifting’s impact is far from straightforward. As the practice gains popularity, often driven by its “cool” factor rather than environmental consciousness, it risks becoming just another shopping trend. Many enthusiasts, particularly younger consumers, may view a trip to a thrift store as an addition to their existing consumption habits rather than a replacement for fast fashion. The ease of access to cheap clothing through online marketplaces like Shopee and Taobao—where a top might cost as little as 100 Singapore Dollars (US$74)—has shaped a culture of disposability. Items are bought, worn briefly, and discarded, often ending up in second-hand stores not out of a commitment to circularity, but as a way to clear space for the next haul.

This mindset is reflected in the challenges faced by local thrift stores. Charity shops like the Salvation Army have reportedly had to turn away donations due to an influx of low-quality items, while home-grown second-hand retailers like Refash are increasingly overwhelmed with fast-fashion pieces of dubious value. The ethos of thrifting—to reduce waste and promote mindful consumption—feels at odds with wardrobes still brimming with impulse buys from brands like Shein.

2nd Street’s Model: Promise and Pitfalls

2nd Street’s approach in Singapore, which relies heavily on a buy-and-sell policy to stock its shelves, raises additional concerns. While the chain has built a reputation in Japan for offering well-maintained, high-quality items—thanks in part to a cultural emphasis on care and craftsmanship—there’s no guarantee that local contributions will meet the same standard. If Singaporean shoppers treat thrift stores as dumping grounds for unwanted fast-fashion pieces, the store’s inventory could quickly become a repository of poor-quality goods, undermining the very premise of sustainable fashion.

Moreover, the competitive nature of thrifting means that the most coveted items—be they designer labels or unique vintage pieces—often go to the fastest or most frequent shoppers, leaving little for others. On opening day, many in the queue at 313@somerset were likely hoping to snag the best of the initial stock. This “race for the gems” dynamic, while exciting, raises questions about the long-term viability of thrift stores as equitable spaces for sustainable shopping. If only a small fraction of inventory is truly desirable, can the model remain effective?

Learning from Local Innovators

Not all hope is lost, as some in Singapore’s second-hand scene are finding creative ways to address these challenges. Raye Padit of The Fashion Pulpit (TFP), a swopping platform that encourages exchanging rather than purchasing, acknowledges the difficulties of moving inventory. Around 30% of TFP’s stock remains unswopped, often because it doesn’t appeal to users. “Everyone assumes that because our business is about swopping, everything will circulate, but no” he said. To manage this, Padit redirects unsold items to TFP’s sister label, PlayDate, which targets a younger Gen Z demographic, or transforms them into custom pieces under his upcycling label, PeyaRework.

Such initiatives highlight the potential for innovation within the thrifting space. Upcycling, in particular, offers a way to breathe new life into otherwise unappealing items, reducing waste while appealing to consumers seeking originality. Yet, not every store has the resources or vision to adopt such strategies, leaving the broader industry grappling with systemic issues.

Shifting Mindsets, Not Just Wardrobes

Historically, thrift stores in Singapore and beyond were lifelines for lower-income communities, providing affordable access to clothing and household goods. As thrifting has become trendy, there’s a risk of sidelining those who rely on these spaces out of necessity. When higher-income shoppers flood the market, often driving up prices for sought-after items, or when stores become clogged with subpar donations, the original purpose of second-hand shopping is eroded.

The solution lies not in discouraging thrifting, but in fostering a deeper shift in mentality. Before offloading a bag of clothes at a store like 2nd Street or Refash, consumers might ask themselves why those items were purchased in the first place, and whether they’re truly committed to reducing consumption. Thrifting as a lifestyle, rather than a fleeting trend, requires viewing every addition to one’s wardrobe as a responsibility—a burden even—to ensure it has lasting value.

A Global Perspective with Local Roots

Comparing Singapore’s thrifting culture to that of Japan, where 2nd Street originated, offers further insight. Japanese consumers are often noted for their meticulous care of clothing, as well as a cultural appreciation for quality and local design. This results in second-hand stores stocked with items that are frequently in near-pristine condition, making the thrifting experience more rewarding. Singapore, with its fast-paced, consumption-driven society, may need time to cultivate a similar ethos. Encouragingly, the enthusiasm surrounding 2nd Street’s opening suggests a hunger for change, even if the path forward remains unclear.

Ultimately, the success of thrifting in Singapore hinges on whether it can transcend its current status as a novelty. For every shopper hunting for a bargain, there’s an opportunity to rethink how fashion fits into their life—and the planet’s future. As 2nd Street settles into the local retail landscape, its presence could serve as a catalyst for dialogue about sustainability, provided consumers and retailers alike are willing to confront the uncomfortable realities of consumption. Will thrifting become a cornerstone of a more circular economy in Singapore, or just another stop on the endless shopping circuit? Only time, and perhaps a few more thoughtful purchases, will tell.