Thrift, Haul, Repeat
My journey from mindless to mindful thrifting, and overhauling the “haul” video, is just beginning
I want to talk to you about “haul culture” — the YouTube phenomena of sharing a “haul” of new purchases — and what causes it. I am a YouTube creator with a small following and I post haul videos even though I understand the problematic nature of them. Haul culture encourages unsustainable and exponential consumption. It turns thrifting, which we usually associate with using money and resources carefully, into a display of wealth, time, and social capital. Haul videos encourage shopping as a competitive sport. So why do I do it?
To tee this up, let's talk a bit about my consumption habits. I’m a pretty compulsive shopper. Ever since I worked at a resale shop in my teens I’ve treated clothing as disposable. I always told myself that since I was buying secondhand clothes and then reselling them, I could consume as much as I wanted. This led to almost never repeating an outfit and really unsustainable habits. Enter my YouTube channel.
I’ve always loved vintage clothing. I was drawn to watching thrift hauls on YouTube because I really enjoy seeing what other people are looking for and how excited they are when they find bucket list items. I finally decided to make a YouTube channel documenting my hauls because I loved watching other people’s videos so much. I also needed an outlet to talk about style in the fashion desert city that is Seattle. There is something really magical about celebrating what you found at the thrift shops with strangers on the internet. My channel grew to represent a community of women who share my passion not just for vintage but for social issues as well.
“Sometimes it takes watching yourself in a video to realize how toxic, wasteful, and unsustainable your habits are.”
At first my shopping habits mainly stayed the same. I would compulsively buy whatever I wanted and show it in my hauls. Eventually, though, I got to the point where I felt like I needed to keep hauling more stuff to keep my channel going. I ended up buying things I thought my viewers would like and not even wearing them. I also started to do closet cleanout videos and realized I was getting rid of things I hauled not even a month earlier. Sometimes it takes watching yourself in a video to realize how toxic, wasteful, and unsustainable your habits are. I also started listening to Clotheshorse which made me realize that thrifting is not as sustainable as I thought it was.
In October 2020, I decided to try to reduce my haul videos. I wanted out of haul culture. What I had once loved no longer aligned with my values. This became more complicated than I realized. After I decided to cut down on haul videos my YouTube traffic dropped and my channel stopped growing as quickly as it was before. I dug into the analytics and realized that YouTube’s algorithm wasn’t promoting my other videos as much as it does my haul content.
Haul videos, particularly in the thrifting category, are a tool YouTube creators use to monetize their channels and market clothing that they are reselling on apps like Depop. I know YouTubers who use this method to make extra money and continue to haul as much as they need to maintain inventory and feed their channel with haul content. I haven’t gotten into the business of reselling clothes for profit, mainly because Seattle thrift shops are way too expensive to make money that way (plus it is time-consuming, which I discuss in my resale app reporting).
Currently, YouTube creators don’t receive advertising revenue until they reach 1,000 subscribers and 4,000 watch hours within a year. In the past, YouTube would not place ads on creator content that hadn’t met those benchmarks. Then in November 2020, YouTube changed its terms and conditions; now they are entitled to advertise on ALL videos posted on the platform. This means that YouTube can place ads on my content, but they aren’t required to pay me because my channel is too small to qualify for their monetization program. When I originally joined YouTube, I didn’t care about getting paid; it was just for fun. However, this change in YouTube’s advertising policy caused a shift in my attitude towards the platform.
“After I decided to cut down on haul videos my YouTube traffic dropped. I dug into the analytics and realized that YouTube’s algorithm wasn’t promoting my other videos as much as it does my haul content.”
As a professional creative, I expect to be paid for my work if a company is making money off of it. I've seen too many people in creative careers give away their services because they don't understand their own value. When YouTube changed its terms, it made me feel more motivated to grow my channel in order to get paid. I don’t like the idea of a corporation profiting from my creations unless I get a cut (albeit a really tiny one even if I do reach YouTube’s traffic requirements for monetization).
So, I found myself in a dilemma. On the one hand, I wanted to scale back my shopping and hauling videos and realign myself with my sustainability values. On the other hand, I wanted to grow my channel enough to start receiving ad compensation, which aligns with my values as a creative. And then two things happened.
First, I finally felt safe enough to thrift again so I went a little nuts and bought a gross amount of clothing. I know better, but after months of not thrifting I was so excited to be on the hunt again and I went a bit overboard. Second, there were so many good vintage and secondhand Black Friday sales. I struggle when it comes to walking away from vintage, especially when I stumble on scarce or one-of-a-kind pieces. Again, I know better, but I’m learning and still working on my compulsive shopping. We all slip sometimes.
As a result of this late-November spree, I had a huge buildup of haul material. I started posting more again on YouTube, and my channel began growing much faster again. I’ve seen people call out haul videos as “lazy” and “unoriginal” which quite honestly makes me mad. First of all, no one is claiming that a haul video is an original idea, but lots of people watch them and the algorithm loves them. Second, let’s address the lazy part. When I make a video about a sewing project it takes me about three to seven days (and roughly six to 10 hours each day) to complete the project itself, and then I spend another two to four hours editing the video and another hour or so uploading it. By comparison, a haul video takes about four hours from filming to uploading. So yes, a haul video is relatively “lazy” in a way, but four hours is still a ton of time and work.
It is exhausting to be a creator on YouTube. The algorithm only acknowledges you if you post frequently (at least once a week). Most people on YouTube (including me) are putting in the hours to create content on top of their full-time jobs. While I am passionate about it and love it, it is also super draining. When I scaled back on doing hauls and invested exponentially more time creating other types of content, I watched my views drop off and that sucked. Then I got “lazy” with my content and watched my channel start to grow again.
So where does this leave me, or, I guess, us?
If your favorite YouTuber who does hauls creates a non-haul video, give it a thumbs up and comment. It actually really does help us with the algorithm. Aside from that, it also rewards us for trying something new. I feel so validated when someone comments on a video that I worked really hard on, and it excites me to do more of that work (especially when viewers tell me that my video inspired them to create or learn).
As for me, I’ll still do hauls on my channel. Doing haul videos makes me happy, and I think that escapism and joy is something that we all need right now. But I don’t like that the YouTube algorithm and the validation I receive from viewers who like my haul videos reward me for overconsumption. I always say I don’t really care about what people think of me, but that is bullshit. I get the same dopamine high that everyone else does when someone “likes, comments, and subscribes” to my content. It feels good. However, I don’t want to let feeling good and my desire to make money and grow my channel undermine my values about sustainability.
When I talk to other thrifters, I get the sense that we all struggle with this idea of a haul.
Also, the thing is, my compulsive shopping behavior isn’t going to magically change just because I stop posting haul videos. When I talk to other thrifters, I get the sense that we all struggle with this idea of a haul. I have a hard time being vulnerable on my channel and talking about the downside of thrifting, but I believe I can start doing haul videos in a more mindful manner.
As I’m writing this, I realize I’m okay with not making money on my channel if I am able to use it as a tool to help myself and others thrift more consciously. If I completely stop doing hauls, I’d never get the chance to start that conversation. I’d also miss out on some of the joy around why I got on YouTube in the first place, which was finding a community of like-minded people.
It’ll take a lot of work to change my approach to thrifting and haul videos, and I’m going to make a ton of mistakes, but I think it is worth it. After all this reflecting on and analyzing my own behavior, I’ve decided to post a haul to go with this article. In it I will talk about my unsustainable thrifting habits and analyze a haul that I had saved up for my channel. So, If you are interested in joining my journey from mindless to mindful thrifting, you can check it out here!
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