I’ve been swishing for about two years, but up until now had kept it among friends. That was until this weekend, when I found myself at an organised swishing group, for people who live with the same addiction as me. And, my, was it good to share.
For any swishing virgins out there, it’s all about trading clothes you no longer want for ones that you do, with the leftovers going to a nominated charity. It’s a way to cleanse and replenish your closet without spending a penny or wrestling with your conscience. Is there any wonder I’m so in love with the idea?
The concept was brought to main-stream attention by communications agency Futerra a few years back, and my friends and I have been holding our own clothes swapping parties ever since. But swishing at an organised event is a different kettle of fish.
Keeping it Friendly
Wine, free clothes, friends – where can you go wrong? At the swishing parties I’ve held at my flat, and attended at friend’s places, everyone brings a bag of clothes they no longer wear, throws them into a big pile on the floor and gets rummaging. This type of clothes swap is great for trying on items: Kitchen, bathroom, bedroom – they all double-up as changing rooms so you can make sure you take home items that fit you and that you’ll actually wear.
Generally there are no rules on what you can or can’t bring - I’ve been to swaps where erotic fiction and unwanted Christmas gifts were up for grabs -, or what you can or can’t take – one of my friends came with a few high-street tops and left with a £300 designer leather jacket.
However, I’ve heard of a few bartering set-ups, in which people who want the same item offer increasing 5p denominations for it. From all accounts a bit awkward and pointless – who wants 25p for something they brought to swap anyway?
The Official Swish
Swishing proper, at a city-, or town-wide event is much more structured affair. At the event I attended clothes were registered by a points system on arrival, ranging from five points for a small high-street item, through large high-street items and vintage to 60 points for a designer piece.
Once everyone had swapped their clothes for tokens, raffle tickets were drawn and the winner called up on stage for a colour consultation with a stylist. The original winner was too shy to go up in front of everyone, and to be honest nobody’s heart was really in it – there were rails of clothes just standing there, taunting us – but the stylist’s insights were astute and she didn’t keep us too long from the main attraction.
At the start of the swap we had 20 minutes to try on items we liked. Annoyingly the points were pinned to the clothes and there was much cursing as the grabbing and rushed changing resulted in minor injuries. Personally, I think the organisers may have planned this as punishment to stop us getting too carried away in the free-clothes frenzy.
After this we reluctantly gave all items back to be re-hung on the rails as a nutritionist hurried through something about the Equinox – seriously, no one was listening at this point – and edged closer to the swapping area in heady anticipation.
When free clothes are on offer, it’s always going to get nasty, and the first minute of the grab-off wasn’t pretty – elbows, nails and snatching – short of sticking pins in each others eyes, the women were prepared to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. And yes, there were a few pouts and grumbles over popular pieces, but everybody seemed to take home something they were pleased with.
On the way out our tokens were tallied up with our swaps to make sure there was no foul play – they’d thought of everything – and I’d managed to bag a cute flower print summer dress, a floral maxi, a nautical polka dot dress and a sequin bolero.
I was one happy swapper, and I can’t wait till the next official swish. Doing it with friends is one thing, but bring strangers and a well thought-out system into the mix and the thrill is most certainly heightened.
Image of Global Cool Swishing Party via WhatleyDude's Flickr