I often tell folks I don’t have a compulsive personality. TikTok Shop and those mandatory 2-minute YouTube ads in between video essays don’t grab my attention or move my wallet.
It’s why it will probably take me a lifetime to build a wardrobe I really love. I’m not a fan of fast fashion or trendy clothes made cheaply and sold by major retailers like Shein, Zara, Uniqlo and H&M. (Not to be hypocritical—I recently splurged on a red sweater from Zara.) But I also don’t have the money for it, anyway.
Mainly, I don’t want to be told what to like. And, at 24, I yearn for a time when buying new clothes meant cotton and not plastic materials such as polyester.
That’s why I thrift most of my clothes. I know the fashion industry is one of the largest polluters contributing to the global climate crisis. They design things that are meant to fall apart quickly and be thrown away.
There’s even a term for that — planned obsolescence. Zach Shrink, an associate professor of sociology at Indiana University South Bend, described it as products that are intentionally made to break down after a certain amount of time. Shrink studies consumer culture and its impact on the environment.
In my small, but mighty wardrobe, I’ve scored 1990s Calvin Klein pinstripe slacks, a Ralph Lauren cashmere cardigan and a blue vintage Lacoste cardigan at markets, vintage shops and thrift stores around Indianapolis.
Come along with me on a tour inside three vintage stores. I talked with the owners about what it’s like selling things found in dumpsters and on the side of the road, and landing one-of-a-kind trinkets.
Sourcing is a delicate and discreet art
It was like pulling teeth to get Brandon Douthitt, 32, to give up his favorite secret sourcing whereabouts.
“I can’t tell y’all where I source all of my items,” he said jokingly, as he stood between clothing racks in his east side store, Vintage Vagabond. “People are wasteful in America; a lot of people dump stuff on the side of the road.”
He did offer aspiring sellers one place to look: hoarder houses. He regularly checks Facebook Marketplace for posts that invite people to help clean out hoarder homes. And according to him, it’s just like the infamous Lifetime reality show, “Hoarders.” He uses his huge van to clear out homes, but when searching for items, he’s in competition with the mice who also call the place home.
Douthitt used to sell clothes out of his storage unit by appointment. In August, the saxophonist and high school music teacher opened Vintage Vagabond. The store, in a historic brick building on East 10th Street, overflows with retro goods and apparel. Every item has a place in the compact, high-ceiling shop.
I felt a little overwhelmed inside, with most of the two-tiered clothing racks towering above my 5-foot-2-inch frame. However, Douthitt, who’s 6’4”, doesn’t have that problem.
Indy thrift crawl
Does all this thrift talk have you itching to plan your next shopping trip?
Here are my top picks for funky furniture, streetwear, discounts and women-owned shops.
Patrons can pick up streetwear, including BAPE and Supreme, jerseys, denim jeans, hats, crewnecks and T-shirts. Toward the back of the store, you’ll find a section of CDs, VHS, toys, vinyl, magazines and books.
Douthitt said he’s keen on having “true vintage” in the store. It’s a term sellers use for clothing that is at least 50 years old. Douthitt expands that definition to include clothes made in the 1960s and earlier.
Sourcing for his vintage shop and clientele can be a grind, he said. His longtime customers sometimes have very specific requests, like silver or orange tab Levi jeans.
You won’t find a lot of Goodwill prices at Vintage Vagabond. It’s one of the biggest misconceptions about vintage reselling, Douthitt said, because there’s a difference between a thrift store and a vintage shop.
It starts with how he acquires pieces. Unlike Goodwill or Salvation Army, Douthitt receives very few donations. He buys clothes wholesale, including from people who bring items into his store, and then resells at a higher price. Even when he gets clothes for free from hoarder houses or on the side of the road, he has to pay for them to be professionally cleaned or repaired.
“I’m trying to have a good price point where it’s fair for my customer and me as well,” Douthitt said.
The Black culture rack in the store stands as his most prized possession. Many pieces are for sale, but others are for your eyes only. That includes his personal collection of Kacy World Colors. The brand was popular in the 1990s, releasing shirts and crewnecks that paired positive messages with the faces of Black leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. and Ida B. Wells-Barnett.
One crewneck will run you $99 to $250 on eBay and Etsy.
He said as a Black business owner, it’s imperative for him to showcase historic cultural items to customers from all walks of life. This led to one of his favorite store moments. Last year, Vintage Vagabond had a Circle City Classic sale and had advertised vintage shirts on Instagram.
A woman came in, looking for a Circle City Classic shirt that featured a graphic of her father, a star player in the 1992 Central State University vs. Alabama State HBCU football game in Indianapolis.
And Douthitt had it.
“She showed us that exact picture they used to put on the shirt, and it was really cool to see that connection … and for her to get a piece that not only resonates with her but her family as well,” he said.
For history buffs and hoarders-in-training
As a child, Zach Hyatt would visit curiosity shops and yard sales on Saturdays in Fountain Square with his great-grandmother, Mattie Lutrell. She ingrained in him to save things that would be valuable later.
He opened Bazaar Oh! Vintage in Irvington in October 2021. He started out doing pop-up shops, but it was always a goal to open and curate his own store. Because he has a day job at a remodeling company, the store is only open on Friday nights and the weekend.
The shop has everything but clothing. It contains artifacts that are about 150 years old, like a tobacco cigar wood drying rack, and newer finds, like a VCR from the early 2000s.
“I’ve learned in my experience that if people are usually throwing stuff away there’s usually value in it; they just don’t know or have time to find the value.”
— Zach Hyatt, owner of Bazaar Oh! Vintage
He had a violet ray machine from the 1920s, a device with a mushroom-shaped glass wand used to “cure” everything from baldness to paralysis and acne. Hyatt usually finds these pieces at estate and yard sales and sometimes on the side of the road. Other stuff is passed down from dead relatives.
When I asked him to grab his favorite item, it appeared too difficult. He took me around for show and tell, exposing intricate details of items that would otherwise go unnoticed. His delight and passion will capture anyone’s attention, turning you, too, into a history buff or a hoarder-in-training.
One of his most treasured possessions: A strip of horsehair plaster taken from the Pantheon Theatre in Vincennes, Ind., which was constructed in 1919.
“One of the reasons I got into this was to keep things out of the landfill and reuse good products,” Hyatt said. “I have people all the time that come in and just say: ‘I don’t know what to do with this; I just don’t want to get rid of it.’ It’s about saving important things, and I think saving important things and places are critical.”
So far his most impactful find — also historically significant to the neighborhood — came from a dumpster dive in 2022. He discovered 23 old pharmacy tins. One contained a blood pressure monitor and stethoscope that belonged to Dr. John K. Kingsbury, who was Madge Oberholtzer’s physician.
In 1925, Oberholtzer was raped and tortured by D.C. Stephenson, the Grand Dragon of the KKK. Dr. Kingsbury cared for her and was present for the deathbed testimony she gave that led to Stephenson’s conviction for rape and murder.
In 2024, Hyatt sold the doctor’s pharmacy tin to Charlotte Ottinger, author of “Madge,” which was then displayed in an exhibit at the Irvington Historical Society.
“I’ve learned in my experience that if people are usually throwing stuff away there’s usually value in it; they just don’t know or have time to find the value,” he said.
A Gen-X fashion designer’s ‘art dorm’
It’s not every day that a person returns to a favorite childhood activity. But that’s the case for Stephanie Nugent, who worked as a dancer, choreographer and academic for 30 years.
Today, the 56-year-old runs Indyvin, a small, quaint “arts dorm” on the third floor of The Stutz. Textiles are stacked at the back of the studio, where a small corner is reserved for two of her industrial sewing machines. A huge loft window overlooks the downtown cityscape, with a great view of I-69 and the Salesforce Tower.
Multiple L-shaped and circular clothing racks greet customers at the door. You’ll find blouses, leather boots and belts, as well as her balloon pants, made from vintage textiles—specifically old quilts. She repurposes quilts to also use as patches for her barrel jeans.
In the front of her studio, you’ll find fur jackets and other outerwear, including the blinding yellow “Kissing Koat,” part of a collection that will debut this year. The zippers are the driving force of its versatility. I tested it out, and when you unzip it, it turns into two separate jackets.
All of her clothes are branded with her signature Indyvin tag.
Nugent sells clothes in Indianapolis and Chicago, and her customers range in age from 20 to 50. The pieces are whimsical and feminine, but most of her garments, she said, are gender neutral. Her inventory spans the late 1800s to the early 2000s. However, she has an affinity for selling and making 1960s- and ’70s-era clothing.
Her mother, Catherine Siri Nugent, a seamstress who made wedding gowns, instilled her love for fashion. As a preteen, Nugent started sewing clothes for her Little People dolls, a precursor to the beloved Cabbage Patch Kids. In high school she put fashion aside for dance, but did not stray from it completely. In college in California and North Carolina, she took costume design classes.
Nugent has never liked malls or been a fan of fast fashion. She was drawn to vintage clothing because of its sustainability and quality, but also the stories hidden in the wear on the garments. For example, she made a jacket out of a vintage camp blanket. The jacket also has bark cloth pockets and a hand-carved button closure that she found at a thrift store.
“It’s a breath of fresh air,” she said of running her business. “It’s been inspirational because I think fashion is important. It’s about expressing who you are, your community, your culture, your personality.”
Indy thrift crawl: 14 spots to hit up
Funky furniture
- Midland Arts & Antiques, 907 E. Michigan St.: An interior designer’s dream.
- Skosh, 2555 Shelby St.: Great coffee and mocktails with a side of vintage clothes and home decor.
- Audrey’s Place Thrift Store, 3228 E. 10th St.: A great first stop for furniture shopping.
Streetwear
- Vintage Vagabond, 5049 E. 10th St.: Streetwear, toys and a time capsule of Black culture.
- Naptown Thrift, 2184 E. 54th St.: For Indy sportswear.
- Vintage Vibe, 2325 E. 52nd St.: Sort of a museum for vintage movies, 1990s sportswear and Black culture pieces.
Discounts galore
- Unique Thrift, 2350 E. 52nd St.: Clothes for 99 cents and half-price sales every first day of the month.
- Thrifty Threads, 1501 W. 86th St.: Operated by the Julian Center, which serves domestic violence survivors. Open to the public.
- Humble Impressions, 2509 Albany St.: Run by a woman who gives all profits to church pantries.
- Mission 27 Resale, 1618 Shelby St.: Supports programs offered by St. Vincent de Paul.
Women-owned
- Super Real Much, 2619 Shelby St.: Specializes in ’80s and ’90s realness; opened by a Brooklyn transplant, who said Garfield Park reminded her of home.
- Lily’s Labyrinth, 1339 Prospect St.: For all things Y2K.
- Market Vintage, 9 Johnson Ave.: Best for costumes for theme parties.
- Nuova Vita Vintage, 1060 N. Capitol Ave.: If you’re in need of a new jacket or blazer.
Thrift crawl vocab
Fast fashion: Trendy, cheap clothes made rapidly, and often sold by major retailers like Shein, Temu, Zara, Uniqlo and H&M.
True vintage: A term resellers use to describe clothing that is at least 50 years old.
Thrift store: A retail shop selling donated or secondhand goods, like clothing and household items, at low prices, often to support a charity or nonprofit organization.
Vintage shop: Sells curated secondhand clothing and accessories that are at least 20 years old. The owners are often collectors who select items for their style, quality and cultural significance.
Consignment store: Sells secondhand items (typically clothing and accessories) on behalf of the original owner, who receives a percentage of the selling price.
Planned obsolescence: Products that are intentionally designed to break after a certain amount of time, forcing consumers to buy replacements more frequently.
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Mirror Indy reporter Mesgana Waiss covers arts and culture. Contact her at 317-667-2643 or mesgana.waiss@mirrorindy.org.
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