Collar, Cuffs, Buttons

Before a shirt goes in the shop, I hold it up to the window light. The light shows things the bulbs in my sewing room don't catch: a thin spot near a seam, a faint shadow where a stain almost lifted and almost didn't, a button that's a slightly different shade because someone replaced it years ago.

Most people think inspecting secondhand clothing just means checking for holes. That's part of it. The real work happens at three spots every time: the collar, the cuffs, and the underarms. Those are where a piece tells you its whole history. A collar that's gone soft and a little gray at the fold has been worn and washed a hundred times by someone who liked it enough to keep wearing it. Cuffs fray first because hands move the most. Underarms hold onto things no amount of washing fully erases.

I went through a gray pinstripe Van Heusen button-down this week with exactly that kind of attention. Collar still holds its shape. Cuffs are clean, no fraying. All the original buttons, all matching. It's a $14 dress shirt, size 15.5, with a lot of wear still left in it, the kind that goes under a sweater on a cold morning or stands on its own once the weather turns. If the collar had given out, it wouldn't have made it to the rack.

Here is the thing about doing this alone. There is no second person checking my work. No quality control department, just my hands and my eyes and whatever I have learned from doing this over and over. So I have gotten particular about it, maybe more particular than I need to be. I will turn a shirt inside out to check the seams twice if something feels off. I will hold a jacket up and really look at it under good light before it ever gets listed, because a quick glance misses more than people think.

Something used still deserves someone to actually look at it before it gets passed along. That is most of the job, honestly. Looking closely, telling you exactly what I find, and letting you decide if it is right for you.

Every piece that leaves here got checked by hand, by one person, start to finish. I like to think that is a small way of saying a person's worth was never up for debate, used or new, and that paying real attention to something is its own kind of respect.

Choose to be kind. Choose to be grateful. Choose to be happy.

— Nina of GiaNina Collective