Wearing secondhand clothing runs in myfamily. Or really, it runs through my family, as hand-me-downs often do. The women in my family are magpies, and we don’t let go of things easily. Sometimes, this tendency manifests in mounting clutter; piles of clothes stacked on chairs waiting to be mended, old pieces of furniture clogging basement corners, standing by for their next purpose. But sometimes, it manifests in magic.Here I was as a little girl, running downstairs to watch

There’s something magical about shopping for second hand clothes; it’s a treasure hunt for a hidden gem and when you find something, you cherish it forever. Since I was a young girl, I’ve always loved second-hand clothes, to me it was normal – I’d always get clothes given to me from my mum’s friend’s daughters, my brother’s friends, my brother’s girlfriends etc. and whenever my mum would give me a bag of second-hand clothes I would be so excited. Fashion has always been a lov

All words and images are by Ana Bogusky. See more from Ana here. There’s something magical about shopping for second hand clothes; it’s a treasure hunt for a hidden gem and when you find something, you cherish it forever. I did not find my frock, I inherited it. But it is the story of garments that lived a long and rich life, as well-made clothing should. It turns out that my father bought this little dress and shrug set in NYC for my grandmother for Mother’s Day in 1951 when