Episode 3 of The Second Hand Conversation ✨
For our third sit-down, we were joined by Mirain, who works in TV and radio in Wales and has loved clothes for as long as she can remember. This one is equal parts funny, thoughtful, and genuinely surprising, taking in everything from rural Pembrokeshire bus rides to Welsh National Opera costume sales.
Charity shops weren't a choice. They were the only option.
Mirain grew up in West Wales, in Pembrokeshire, where the nearest Zara or H&M was a good two hours away. If you didn't drive, and especially as a teenager, getting anywhere at all meant catching one of the few buses going.
"Charity shops were one of the few options really to get new clothes, to just have a rummage and spend time with your mates as well, and do something that wasn't really expensive or really hard to do."
It wasn't really about being conscious or sustainable, not at first. It was simply what was there. But it stuck. Charity shopping became, in her words, a special place and somewhere she's kept returning to long after she had other options.
"My mum has a shopping addiction, let me tell you"
Mirain's relationship with consumption is refreshingly honest. She loves her mum, but admits her mum's shopping habits are part of where her own love of clothes comes from and also exactly what she's tried to rein in.
She remembers her money landing every fortnight in sixth form and immediately heading to Primark, much like most of us did. It's a familiar story for a lot of us in our late twenties and thirties: spend everything, then slowly, over years, become aware of what fast fashion actually costs and not just to your bank balance, but to garment workers, to the environment, and eventually, to the clothes themselves.
"After you've had these clothes for a few years, you realise they actually start falling apart, they're covered in bobbles, they just don't look nice. "
Hauls, whoever they're from, can do one
Mirain is clear that she doesn't want to demonise anyone for shopping fast fashion. Money's tight, the news is relentless, and if a £15 dress from Shein makes someone feel good on a hard day, she's not going to judge them for it.
What she can't stand is the haul! Fast fashion or otherwise.
"I hate the fast fashion hauls. I wish for them to burn in hell. I really do."
And it's not just fast fashion. She's just as critical of people doing exactly the same thing with charity shop finds. Buying in bulk for the dopamine hit, with no real intention of wearing most of it.
"Any kind of overconsumption could just get in a bin. It really can."
What she actually looks for in a charity shop
We asked Mirain what advice she'd give someone who's never really shopped secondhand. She was honest that taste is too personal to hand someone a checklist but what she loves, someone else might think looks like it's been dragged through a hedge. But there are things she always checks:
Quality, first. Does it feel sturdy? Have a rummage in the pockets, check the seams, see how it's actually held together. Then the label, vintage pieces and old M&S (St Michael's, specifically) tend to give themselves away once you know what to look for.
"If it's a completely unknown brand but a gorgeous piece of clothing, and it's got the same weave to it as a lovely vintage St Michael's M&S blazer — love it."
And above everything, she's looking for something she actually loves, not something she feels obligated to want. The kind of piece that works with five other things already in her wardrobe, rather than something that only works in one specific outfit, once.
Her favourite piece: an 80s St Michael's blazer with gold buttons
Naturally, this is the blazer she means. Pure new wool, 1980s, big structured shoulders, gold buttons. Mirain didn't hold back on how it makes her feel.
"I feel like Madonna in it. It's got these massive shoulder pads and I'm just like — oh, it's heaven."
It's a perfect example of her wider point: a piece doesn't need an emotional backstory to matter (she's quick to say that would drive anyone mad), but it does need to be something you're genuinely drawn to. She describes it almost like a magnet and when she sees the right piece, she just knows.
Knowing your measurements (and why we were never taught this)
Mirain picked up a tip from one of our earlier guests about checking a seller's listed measurements rather than just trusting the size on the label and something she said she'd genuinely never thought about before.
"I just had to look at the labels and see the number, and I'm like, yeah, that'll do me. Then it turns up and it's a completely different size to the size I've got. This isn't doing anything for my self-esteem."
It led to a bigger conversation about how little most of us were ever taught about measuring or altering clothes. Mirain wishes she'd taken textiles at GCSE rather than being steered away from it for not being "academic enough." Jess then pointed out something neither of us had really clocked before: men's clothing is sized by actual measurement (a 32-inch waist is a 32-inch waist), while women's sizing varies wildly from brand to brand, and sometimes from one rail to the next in the same shop.
What TV costume departments taught her about waste
Given her job in TV and radio, we asked Mirain whether the industry's appetite for costume change has any bearing on the circular fashion economy and whether it's something people in the industry actually talk about.
Her honest answer: she's no costume expert, but she's lived the smaller-scale version of it. Buying outfits for TV appearances that get worn for half an hour in a studio and then never again, because they don't feel like her.
"I think there is a danger for things to be treated as disposable. But it all comes down to intention and making sure it's an item of clothing that will actually get reused."
What gives her hope is what happens to costumes once productions are done with them. She told us about a now-closed charity shop "supermarket" near St David's that once sold genuine cast-off costumes from the Welsh National Opera, where pieces worn on stage decades earlier, handmade, cared for, full of history.
The bit we didn't expect: rental fashion
Mirain is a genuine advocate for renting outfits for events. For weddings and big nights out, she'd rather rent something that fits her properly, wear it once, and send it back, which is guilt-free, compared to buying something she knows she'll never wear again.
"It gets dry cleaned and reused by someone else who's going to love it. This sounds shallow, but you want nice photos — you don't want to wear the same thing twice."
She mentioned a couple of options doing exactly this closer to home: Mini Mae Closet in Cowbridge, and a newer spot in Penarth called Reveya, both worth a look if you've got an event coming up and don't want another one-wear dress sitting in the back of your wardrobe.
Thank you so much to Mirain for joining us for Episode 3 of The Second Hand Conversation! Watch the full episode on our YouTube channel.