The Returns Section Shopping Hack That Changed How I Think About Fashion

I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, and honestly, I’m going to get some very unhappy texts from stylist friends after this goes live, but… I’ve never been great at keeping secrets when they could help people shop more sustainably. So here we are.

Three years ago, I was complaining to my friend Sarah – she’s a stylist who works with musicians, can’t name names but you’ve definitely seen her work – about how impossible it was to find unique pieces that weren’t just the same Zara blazer everyone else was wearing to every sustainable fashion event in Seattle. I was trying so hard to shop ethically, but the reality is that most sustainable brands look pretty similar, and thrifting takes forever when you need something specific.

“God, you’re so naive,” she laughed, which was rude but probably accurate. “You know about the hospital sections, right?”

I did not know about the hospital sections. Turns out I’d been walking past the best shopping secret in retail for years without realizing it.

Here’s what Sarah taught me that day over overpriced lattes in Capitol Hill: every major retailer has a returns limbo that most shoppers never think to check. These aren’t the obvious clearance sections – they’re the chaotic racks and corners where returned merchandise sits waiting to be reprocessed. Sales associates sometimes call them “the hospital” because the clothes are “sick” from being returned, or “purgatory” because they’re stuck between going back to the floor or getting shipped to outlets.

The genius part? The stuff that gets returned isn’t random. It’s often the most interesting, runway-inspired pieces that fashion-forward shoppers bought immediately, then reconsidered once they got home and realized that sculptural sleeve situation wasn’t as wearable as it looked online.

I became completely obsessed with this concept. Started asking about returns everywhere – Nordstrom, Zara, even Target. What I found was this parallel shopping universe where the most experimental pieces from recent deliveries end up clustered together, usually unmarked and definitely underutilized.

My first major “hospital find” was at the H&M downtown. I was desperately searching for something to wear to a sustainable fashion panel – the irony was not lost on me that I needed fast fashion to attend an event about ethical consumption – and asked a sales associate if they had any recent returns. She pointed me toward a messy rack near customer service that I’d walked past probably fifty times.

Buried between basic cardigans was this incredible oversized blazer from their recent Studio collection, the one that had sold out online within hours. Someone had bought it, taken it home, decided it was too avant-garde for their actual life, and returned it to this random location. It was perfect, exactly my size, and somehow still had the tags on.

I wore it to the panel and got more compliments than on pieces I’d spent three times as much on from certified sustainable brands. Which made me feel slightly guilty but also fascinated by the economics of it all.

The reason this works so well is basically accidental curation. The pieces in returns sections are pre-filtered by fashion-conscious early adopters who specifically sought out the most interesting items. These are the clothes that were compelling enough to purchase immediately but challenging enough that some people reconsidered. It’s like having a fashion editor accidentally curate a selection of the most avant-garde pieces from each delivery.

Plus, returns create this weird geographic redistribution. Someone might buy something online, decide it doesn’t work, then return it to whatever store is most convenient. So you’ll find limited-edition pieces randomly distributed across locations, sometimes showing up at stores where they were never even sold originally.

I started mentioning this discovery to other people trying to shop more sustainably, and reactions were all over the place. My environmentally conscious friends were intrigued by the idea of giving returned clothes a second chance before they potentially ended up as waste. My fashion industry acquaintances either acted shocked or admitted they’d been quietly doing this for years.

When I told Sarah I was thinking about writing about this, she was horrified. “Riley, I swear, if you blow up our secret shopping spots, I will never forgive you.”

But here’s the thing – fashion shouldn’t be this exclusive secret knowledge that only industry people know about. Especially when we’re talking about making use of clothes that already exist in the system rather than creating demand for new production.

The strategy works beyond just fast fashion too. I’ve found incredible pieces in the returns sections at Nordstrom – designer items with minor flaws that were returned rather than exchanged. A former department store associate told me they used to set aside the interesting returns for regular customers who knew to ask, because they understood these weren’t typical discount shoppers but people who specifically wanted the unique pieces.

The key is being nice to sales staff and asking directly. Don’t just browse hoping to stumble across something. Ask: “Have you had any interesting returns come back recently?” The word “interesting” apparently signals that you’re looking for the fashion-forward pieces, not just trying to find basics in your size.

I’ve learned that timing matters too. Mondays and Tuesdays tend to be goldmines because weekend shoppers have had time to reconsider their purchases. January is incredible for returns after people realize their holiday shopping was maybe too ambitious. September brings post-vacation fashion regrets.

The whole thing has changed how I think about sustainable fashion. Yes, I still prioritize buying from ethical brands and thrifting when possible, but this returns strategy feels like a middle ground that makes sense. These clothes already exist, they’ve already been produced and shipped and purchased. By giving them another chance at finding the right owner, I’m essentially preventing potential waste in the fashion cycle.

It’s also weirdly democratic in a way that fashion rarely is. Instead of artificial scarcity and exclusivity, the returns section is just random distribution based on other people’s shopping regrets and geographic convenience. There’s something satisfying about that randomness – finding something amazing because you happened to be in the right place at the right time and knew to look.

Last month I ran into Sarah at a sustainable fashion event – the same type where I’d worn that first hospital find blazer. She was styling a local musician who was wearing this gorgeous structured top that looked familiar.

“Wait, is that from the Simone Rocha H&M collab?” I whispered. That collection had sold out instantly and was going for ridiculous prices on resale sites.

She gave me a death glare. “Hospital find. And don’t you dare write about this.”

Sorry, Sarah. Some secrets are too good not to share, especially when they can help people find unique pieces without supporting overproduction or paying inflated resale prices.

I’m not saying this strategy is perfect or that it solves all the problems with fashion consumption. Returns sections can be chaotic and inconsistent, and you might strike out completely at smaller locations. It still requires time and luck, like most alternative shopping strategies.

But it’s opened up this whole world of possibility that I’d been walking past for years. Fashion that’s more interesting than what’s currently on the main floor, often at better prices, with the added benefit of giving returned merchandise another chance before it potentially becomes waste.

The rise of online shopping has actually made this even more valuable. People order multiple sizes and styles, keep what works, and return the rest to whatever physical location is convenient. This creates random distribution of limited pieces across store networks, like fashion easter eggs waiting to be discovered by people who know to look.

Just promise me one thing – if you try this and find something incredible, maybe don’t post about the exact store location on social media. Those of us who’ve been quietly mining the hospital sections would like to maintain at least a little mystery in our treasure hunting.

Though knowing the sustainable fashion community, we’ll probably end up creating some kind of returns section sharing network where we help each other find amazing pieces while keeping them out of the waste stream. Which honestly sounds pretty perfect to me.