I will never forget my first second-hand fashion purchase on the web. It was 2004, I was fourteen years old and had secretly created an eBay account on the family computer despite not having the legal age to open one. I played around with the age settings and boom, there was my account and a new world to explore. It felt like I had suddenly gained exclusive access to the largest open wardrobe in the world. I’m too embarrassed to share the username I used back then, and still use today.

After browsing for several days, I had found a listing of a bright orange tie-back crop top with a stonewash finish, that channeled grunge with a sprinkle of pop. I was the only bidder and I won the top at €4.99 which was a steal then – and if you ask me, a steal now. Although I’m pretty sure that the listing must’ve had a hand full of views, the excitement of the countdown was simply unforgettable. Ever since that experience, I was hooked to eBay and other resell platforms on the web. Today I am thirty years old today and my eyes must’ve scanned a trillion listings on the web. The offer in resell platforms has quadrupled since, with every-thing-and-all sites like Depop to niche shops like Heroine and Vaniitas.

I do not expect to wear a crop top anytime soon, but I am pretty sure that if held on to that so-good-so-bad top it would’ve seamlessly blended in today’s fashion landscape (the current nineties revival in particular). To me, this experience is the living proof that if you hold on to something long enough, it all comes round again. But it makes me uncomfortable at the same time because I tend to keep too many clothes around for the sake of their future relevance. I simply can’t let go, which is the opposite of the fast fashion movement but equally detrimental if your closet keeps expanding in size. And then there’s the fine line between keeping something for its sentimental value or just giving it away because “it’s catching dust” once every decade. Knowing why you're holding on does make letting go of it easier. It makes me wonder, how do we decide what to keep and what to discard? How does one calculate the intrinsic value of a garment? And above all… where on earth did I leave that tiny nylon Prada bag that I purchased for only fifty euros?

From coffee cups to weepy flowers, and wild roses to seashells, Hotel Mermaid Club is a series of photos that seek melancholia in the small things and discover the beauty in the unexpected. It is the fruit of seven years of work by British photographer Chris Rhodes, whose clients include Helmut Lang, The Row and W Magazine.

Its layout, composition and colors ooze tranquility, offering the reader a calm and poetic reading experience. The perfect book to flip through on a Sunday, while you are enjoying your morning coffee.

— Purchase via Antenne Books.