(Photo: Gatot Adriansyah/Getty Images)
I’ve earned more than £1,000 from selling my wares on Vinted. If it sounds like I’m smug, I am. Not only are my old clothes going to a new home, but there’s also a quiet thrill from making pocket money from the fairly low-effort selling process.
I recently sold a pair of metallic leather shorts (£10, Topshop sale, 10 years ago) for £13. Don’t tell HMRC about the profit. An emerald green velvet brocade blazer – not sure what I was thinking – is now, £18 later, being used as “stagewear for gigs” according to the buyer. She also called me an “absolutely perfect seller”. And that’s the thing with Vinted: the cash and the praise make it very addictive.
But there have been some real low moments over the past year. Like telling myself to get a grip after the 3am sales notification thrill. The time I mixed up two orders and a man in Derbyshire received an animal print handbag rather than the black Levi’s. Discussing seriously with my husband who should get the proceeds if I do all the work in selling his gear, including said jeans (I transfer the cash but may skim off a few quid here and there – call it my admin fee). Last week a buyer called me “delulu” after I changed my mind about selling a coat.
And then there was the honeymoon incident(s).
During our gorgeous three-week trip in December, I activated “holiday mode”, which puts your Vinted account to sleep. But I cracked and made some secret sales. “You and Vinted” was my sister’s response when I emailed her the postage labels and an apology. Wondering if I had a good honeymoon? I did, thank you. I made money while sipping wine in an Argentine vineyard and on the beach in Rio.
Still, I can understand my husband’s exasperation when he caught me taking photos of some sandals for Vinted. They were already the source of controversy as they kept sliding off my feet and we had to return to the hotel for a footwear change on the way to dinner. Made 15 quid though.
I also lied. I said I had to speak to the hotel reception – something about towels – when really, I was using the lobby printer to prepare postage labels (including for my first ever bundle!) for when I got home. If only the buyers had picked the digital label option.
So, what’s at the heart of my Vinted obsession? It assuages my guilt over loving clothes. I know I buy too much – bad both for my bank balance and the environment, because I’ll eventually get bored of them. But I have a sort of personal circular economy set up, where I save the money I make from Vinted in a separate bank pot and use that to fund new clothes. Obviously I need to supplement my purchases sometimes. And if I sell clothes I no longer wear, I’m happy that they are not going to waste.
I’d initially vowed never to buy any of “that tat” on Vinted myself. It made me think of my failed days as a “vintage person”, when I couldn’t quite pull off the eclectic look or shake the musty smell. But when I was eyeing up a khaki blazer from Zara for about £40, curiosity made me check on Vinted first.
Confident that I was selling good, current items, others must be too. I finally got my Zara khaki blazer for £15, plus a £1.45 buyer protection fee. After I couldn’t quite find a gold chain necklace in Zara at the exact moment I was looking for one (they normally retail for £19.99 or so), one arrived at my InPost locker a few days later for £6.77 (£3.50 for item, £2.39 for postage and 88p for the buyer protection fee).
Vinted provides near instant satisfaction. You do the admin of taking photos, uploading, negotiating prices, packing up and placing in an InPost locker, and you get cash directly linked to your efforts. I uploaded a Zara co-ord on holiday while I was still wearing it (finally admitting to myself that the skirt was too short) and practically sparked a bidding frenzy. Another £15, ka-ching.
Sometimes the cash isn’t satisfying, especially after you walk 0.9 miles out of your way in the pouring rain to a petrol station because there are no nearby Yodels, only to be told they can’t accept your parcel. You win some, you lose some.
The truth is, there is nothing better than being good at something – and being rewarded for it. So often, you can’t quantify what you’ve done at work – you’re going to get paid regardless. But with Vinted, I know that I’ve sold 93 items, earned £1,033.90 (with £460 up for grabs if I sell the 44 items currently on my profile) and, my average review is 4.9 stars. I haven’t even spent any money on packaging: recycled wrapping, bin liners and bags for life all work.
So what’s my secret?
Take decent photos. Think about the lighting, details and care labels, but if you’re selling something for a fiver, don’t waste too much time.
Do iron. A couple of bits I can’t shift could definitely do with a press.
Don’t undervalue your stuff. If it’s in good condition and you would still wear it, have some standards about how low you will go. I only sell for £2 if I’m on a selling streak. Do price higher than you would accept to leave room for haggling. For the higher ticket items, pay to bump them so they’re more likely to get spotted. With more than 16 million UK users, you’re vying for space.
Be proactive. If someone likes an item, offer a lower price. Hook them in, provide extra pictures and information if they ask.
Be honest with yourself about your clothes. I’ve spent more money than I can admit on wardrobe “gamechangers” and “keep-forever” pieces – yes, “pieces” – I don’t wear. It’s already a sunk cost so I may as well make a bit of money.
But don’t get suckered into dumping sentimental “pieces” for the sake of a few quid. A pair of tassled hotpants (£10, River Island sale, first year of uni) I had many a good time in will stay in my wardrobe forever. No matter how much my husband tries to shove them into my Vinted pile.
