I sat down with Lana Garmo, founder of In Two Minds, expecting to talk about clothing. What I actually left thinking about was mindset and how much our relationship with fashion has been shaped by a system that encourages us to replace before we repair.
We started talking about upcycling and secondhand fashion for The Lexy Show, but what stayed with me wasn’t just what she makes. It was how she sees almost everything she touches. A stained rug becomes a handbag. A damaged piece becomes something worth rebuilding instead of discarding. Her way of thinking made me realize something simple: sustainability isn’t only about what we stop buying. It’s about what we start seeing differently. The shift feels especially important when you consider how much clothing is produced and discarded every year. The fashion industry has become built around speed, constant newness, and overproduction. This creates a culture where garments are often treated as temporary instead of valuable.
Lana has built her brand around handpicked vintage and upcycled clothing, but what fascinated me most wasn’t simply the clothing itself. It was the way she approaches creativity. Throughout our conversation, she kept coming back to the idea that almost everything has the potential for a second life if we’re willing to look at it differently. A stained rug can become a handbag. A vintage skirt that doesn’t quite fit can be altered into something you’ll wear for years. A garment with a small flaw doesn’t have to be thrown away. It might just need someone with a little imagination.
That perspective feels especially refreshing in a world where we’re constantly encouraged to replace things instead of reimagining them.
How a Love For Thrifting Became a Sustainable Business
One thing that surprised me was how naturally Lana’s business came together. There wasn’t a dramatic moment where she quit her job or decided to launch a fashion brand overnight. Like many people who love secondhand shopping, she simply started thrifting because she enjoyed it. As her wardrobe grew, she began selling pieces she no longer wore on Depop, and over time that hobby slowly evolved into a business.
Her story feels so accessible. It didn’t start with a big announcement or a career pivot. It started with thrifting, reselling a few pieces online, and slowly realizing those small habits were changing how she saw clothing altogether.
Most people don’t overhaul their lives overnight. They start with one habit at a time. But I also think it’s important to remember that individual habits are only one piece of the puzzle. While resale and thrifting continue to grow, they’re still competing against an industry built on producing massive amounts of new clothing. That’s why businesses like Lana’s matter. They aren’t just selling secondhand pieces; they’re challenging the idea that making more clothes is always the answer.
What Actually Goes Into One Secondhand Listing
One of my biggest takeaways from our conversation was just how much work goes into every secondhand piece before it reaches a customer. Lana described days spent driving between thrift stores looking for specific items, and hours searching resale platforms online. Then comes the real work. Cleaning every garment, researching brands and fabrics, styling outfits, photographing each piece, writing listings, and packaging every order herself. At one point she described spending an entire day on a single piece, just to decide it still deserved a second life. Not because it was rare or expensive, but because she couldn’t stop thinking about what it could become with a few adjustments.
I don’t think consumers always see that side of secondhand fashion. It’s easy to scroll through a website and assume someone simply found a cool jacket and uploaded a picture. In reality, every listing represents hours of work before anyone ever clicks “Add to Cart.”
Listening to her explain that process made me appreciate independent resale businesses even more. It’s a much slower way of working than fast fashion, but maybe that’s exactly why it feels so intentional. Every garment has already lived one life, and someone has taken the time to prepare it for another instead of allowing it to become waste.
When a “Damaged” Garment Becomes a Design Opportunity
The part of our conversation that stuck with me the most was hearing Lana talk about the way she looks at everyday objects. She described turning a damaged cowhide rug into multiple handbags, using hardware from old garments to create jewelry, and constantly asking herself how something could be improved rather than whether it should simply be thrown away.
Somewhere along the way, clothing started feeling disposable. If something doesn’t fit, we replace it. If a trend shifts, we replace it. If there’s a flaw, we replace it.
But Lana’s approach flips that instinct. Instead of asking what something is “worth” as-is, she asks what it could become.
I also loved hearing how her architecture background influences the way she approaches clothing. Instead of immediately judging an item, she naturally starts thinking about solutions. Could the proportions be adjusted? Could it be shortened? Could it be styled differently? What struck me about Lana’s approach was how different it feels from the way modern fashion teaches us to think. We’re often encouraged to see a damaged zipper, outdated silhouette, or imperfect garment as a reason to buy something new. Lana sees those same things as design challenges.
Sustainable Fashion Doesn’t Mean Giving Up Style
One of the biggest misconceptions about sustainable fashion is that it means giving up style. I’ve never really believed that.
I don’t think sustainability should mean removing creativity from fashion. The problem isn’t that people love clothes. The problem is that the industry has convinced us that loving fashion requires constant consumption. There’s a difference between expressing yourself through clothing and constantly replacing your wardrobe to keep up with a never-ending cycle of trends.
During our conversation, Lana pointed out that most of the trends people are chasing today already exist in thrift stores. That really stuck with me because it’s one of those things you don’t notice until someone says it out loud. You’re probably standing a few feet away from the exact trend you just saved on Instagram.
Thrifting still feels like a treasure hunt to me. You’re not buying the same outfit as a thousand other people. You’re finding something that already has a story. To me, that’s one of the most exciting parts of building a wardrobe.
Small Changes Matter, But They Aren’t the Whole Solution
We also talked about how difficult it can feel to change an industry that’s built on producing clothing at an unbelievable speed. Lana was honest about the fact that one independent business can’t compete with companies producing thousands of garments every single day. But she also reminded me that meaningful change doesn’t happen all at once.
It starts with consumers making different choices.
Choosing to thrift before buying something new.
Repairing a jacket instead of replacing it.
Reusing what you already have instead of defaulting to something new.
That said, I also don’t think it’s fair to place the burden of fixing fashion entirely on consumers. Upcycling, thrifting, and repairing clothes absolutely matter, but they exist within an industry that still produces enormous volumes of new clothing every year. As long as brands continue to prioritize rapid production, constant trend cycles, and low prices, individual choices can only go so far.
That’s why conversations like this feel important to me. Lana isn’t claiming that one upcycled handbag will solve fashion’s waste problem. She’s showing that there are alternatives to the “buy, wear, discard” cycle we’ve been taught to accept. At the same time, I think the industry itself has to change. Consumers shouldn’t be expected to shop their way out of a problem that overproduction created.
What I Took Away From This Conversation
One piece of advice Lana shared has stayed with me long after we finished recording. What stood out to me wasn’t just her approach to upcycling. It was the way she thinks about clothing as something with more possibilities than we often give it credit for. Instead of immediately replacing something when it no longer feels exciting, she encourages us to look at what we already have and see what else it could become.
Lana’s real point wasn’t about clothes. It was about resisting the instinct to replace instead of repair.
