Humans, as Jean-Jacques Rousseau claimed, are plagued by a “universal desire for reputation”, one that “devours us all, excites and multiplies passions”, but also turns us into “competitors” and “rivals”. The college community, which, in some sense, acts as a microcosm of Dublin youth culture, demonstrates Rousseau’s point precisely: students pass through the gates of the College every day communicating their individuality and authenticity through fashion. In particular, the various vintage shops that have popped up throughout the city in the past few years have fed these students’ hunger for reputation, an inner circle, a social group. The very act of purchasing items of clothing from these types of stores, such as Loot, Nine Crows and Tola Vintage, contributes to a student’s sense of cultural capital. In simpler terms, when students are “in the know” about the latest trends, or appear on campus sporting such looks, they are more likely to expand their social network. As a result, they improve their reputation which, in turn, makes life a lot easier. 

Students’ search for social desirability has only increased in recent years, with social media presenting more and more opportunities for our worthiness to be questioned. Every selfie, every “fit check” and every photo dump posted is a vulnerable offering of the self. When we post such photos, we place our worthiness on the drawing board, to then be determined by those who view these posts. Choices in angles, filters, and, of course, fashion, determine the cultural capital points that we can gain when we post these images. As a result, many students, including myself, resort to buying from vintage stores and charity shops, perhaps not out of financial necessity or interest in the environment, but because we feel good about ourselves when we wear these types of clothing. Because of this, shopping second hand has now become an indication of higher social status and class, when, in the past, it would actually indicate the opposite. Of course, this debate surrounding the gentrification of second hand shopping has perhaps been over-circulated at this point, and I do not intend to beat a dead horse. Instead, I would prefer to approach the debate with a little more nuance. 

University is a time for students to discover who they are. I recall watching an archive of RTE’s “The Late Late Show” from 1983, in which the host, Gay Byrne, interviews a group of representatives from various Dublin subcultures, some of whom are university students. While Byrne is baffled by their fashion choices, he is joined by Dr. Edward de Bono, who points out that in dressing this way, these individuals are simply identifying with their respective groups, be that a mod, a punk or a goth. If you watch this video, you may feel as though these people are living in a completely different Ireland, and to some extent, they are. But the desire of the youth to feel a sense of belonging and develop some sort of reputation is no different to the very same feelings that many of us experience. 

It is for this reason I ask myself, by choosing to shop in these so-called ‘gentrified’ stores, are students doing something wrong? Are they contributing to the ever-growing gap between the social classes that are ever present in our college community? Or, on the other hand, are they simply catering to their desire to feel gratification, to feel ‘cool’, to feel ‘trendy’? After all, throughout history, it is evident that one of the most common desires amongst humans is to feel accepted. For many of us, buying second-hand clothing is our gateway to social status. Is the upper-middle class student paying 90 euro for a Save the Queen shirt really to blame here?

I’m sure you are aware of the infatuation with second hand shopping amongst Trinity students, as well as the potential social points to be gained by those wearing such items of clothing. Wearing a Custo Barcelona shirt may lead someone to ask you where you got it from. You reply, “oh, it’s vintage” and are perhaps praised for being mindful of the environment, or for finding a hidden gem amongst the racks and racks of tattered clothes. Perhaps, your vintage Desigual skirt will find you posted on Fashion Soc’s weekly “Campus Couture” roundup on Instagram, and, if not, you will find a way to weave a photo of them into your monthly photo dump. 

Sociologists have argued that in the case of second hand fashion, the law of gravity may be applied. They believe that once the upper middle class have tried everything at the top, they will inevitably slide down to the bottom to claim the fashion of the working class as their own. This theory, which was developed by Georg Simmel and Thorstein Veblen, was demonstrated by the diffusion of “punk” fashion from youth culture into high fashion during the 1970s. Finding its origin in the lower classes, punk fashion was later the inspiration for designer Vivienne Westwood’s brand, making the style more popular amongst the elite. We are seeing a similar situation happening within Dublin youth culture at present, particularly with high-end vintage stores opening up to accommodate for the upsurge in interest for vintage fashion. 

Whether you agree with this reasoning for the upsurge in interest in vintage fashion or not, one thing is for certain: it is becoming an increasingly difficult interest to sustain. Many turn to the individual consumer when looking to point the finger with regards to the soaring prices of vintage and second hand pieces in both charity shops and vintage shops. Dr Carolyn Mair, author of The Psychology of Fashion, contends that those who can afford such items of clothing form an “inner circle” within society. The increased prices within second hand shops feed our desire for a sense of reputation and belonging, and perpetuate this idea of “if you know, you know” that, while allowing some students to find a sense of community, leaves others feeling left out. 

While it may be easy to place all the blame on individual students who can afford to shop in places such as Tola Vintage and Nine Crows, this is actually the easy way out of the argument. Issues within the fashion industry are simply manifestations of wider issues within society, and thus cannot be separated. It’s important to remember the function of the shops in which we find this type of clothing. 

Firstly, charity shops were created in order to support the work of charities, and in order to raise as much money as possible, these organisations are obviously going to raise their prices in response to the increased demand for second hand clothing. On the other hand, vintage shops are simply another branch of the money-hungry fashion industry, and despite what they say, these shops are not our friends. They are capitalist props dressed up as “concept stores” with trendy posters and cool music. 

Take the popular vintage store “Loot”, for example, located just a ten minute walk from campus. The founder of Loot, Emma Fraser, who also has involvement with other vintage stores “Nine Crows” and “Reverie”, noted that she aims to create a place where “it doesn’t feel intimidating to shop sustainability” and hopes to make shopping vintage “accessible”. 

Such, however, is not the case. Perhaps, if you have an endless amount of money burning a hole in your pocket, such stores are not “intimidating” to shop in. Nothing is “accessible” about the prices in these kinds of stores, and they act to promote a sense of insularity within Dublin youth culture, and have served to place more barriers in the way of those from less advantaged backgrounds who are interested in purchasing second-hand pieces.

There is, of course, a reason behind the price points of many of these vintage stores, and with growing calls for fair pay within the fashion industry, we must acknowledge these reasons. The act of mending, cleaning, sourcing and photographing such pieces can take hours upon hours of time and effort, which is more than likely reflected in the high prices of the clothes in Dublin vintage stores. 

This still doesn’t answer our question, however. Is students’ search for status causing the gentrification of second-hand shopping in Dublin? The answer is not so clear-cut, which is most likely why this debate has been in constant circulation in recent years. What can be taken from this debate, is that the link between students’ desire for social status and the desire for capital within society as a whole cannot be separated. Issues that may appear trivial to some, such as whether or not one can afford to shop in Loot or Nine Crows, are actually indicative of wider societal issues. 

Once again, the individual is being blamed for the larger, overarching issues that come-along with capitalism and greed, and if we continue to play the blame game with each other for the price of a shirt in a vintage shop, we ignore the larger forces at play: the industries and companies that will only continue to profit from such a debate.