It’s a good addiction, I promise. I had to share this piece I wrote for Providence Moms Blog , Why I Love Poshmark, for all you fashionistas out there. And for my friends (and especially my sweet mother-in-law) who are afraid to click on links, I have included the article below too. 😉 Enjoy!

https://providence.citymomsblog.com/beauty-and-fashion/why-i-love-poshmark/

Hi. I’m Jackie. And I think I may be a Poshmark addict. It’s been four days since my last sale.

If you’ve never heard of Poshmark, you might want to grab a chair and a chai tea. Poshmark is a website and the answer to any fashionista’s dilemma of finding fabulous clothes and accessories at reasonable prices. Think online yard sale, consignment store, and department store sale all rolled into one bargain burrito of a website with a dash of discounts you won’t find anywhere else. (Except similarly excellent sites like The Real Real or ThredUp, but I happened to find my home at Poshmark and I’m a loyal girl.)

Imagine a fire sale at Nordstrom, minus the crowds. Or eBay, only fancier, with no blenders or bedding sprinkled in.

If you’re looking for Gucci, they’ve got it. On sale. Tory Burch? J Crew Cuts? Poshmark. Has. It. I know I need to calm down. But hello, you can sell your nice but no longer necessary goods and buy other people’s nice but no longer necessary goods at a fraction of what you would pay anywhere else. Without leaving your family room.

It’s not all used clothing and accessories either. Some items are New Without Tags (NWOT), or New with Tags (NWT), or In Excellent Used Condition (EUC). (Part of the Poshmark lingo.)

They even have “vintage” items, even though I find 1990s vintage items almost laughable (because I remember exactly what I was doing in 1990). You name it: whether a blouse, blazer or baby bib, they’ve got it. And it’s being sold by Poshmark members. And it’s all legit.

So what’s the problem? There really is no problem, except the fact that I’ve taken this really awesome thing to an entirely ridiculous level. Which goes back to why I think I may be a Poshmark addict.

When I go out with my girlfriends and realize everything I’m wearing, from my dress down to my Gingham espadrilles is from Poshmark, I beam with a sense of “I bought it on sale” pride. (Grab a leather couch and I’ll share more about being raised to only shop the sales rack.)

It started about two years ago when a friend sent me an innocent invitation to join this designer dream world. After skimming and finding a few cute dresses and handbags, I went to the main page and discovered even more to-die-for items. I started friending people, or fellow Poshers, and then they started friending me back. The next thing I knew, I was making an offer on a pair of used espadrille wedges that were in perfect condition. And I won!

Let’s just say that it wasn’t long before it took on a life of its own. I would scour the site for deals and sell stuff simultaneously that no longer fit me or suited my fancy. Today, I have many items in my Poshmark closet that I’ve sold, but I probably have more items I’ve liked in other Poshers’ closets than I care to admit.

I’m also a loyal Posher. I don’t do deals with people who try to trick me to make an offer off the site. And if you follow me, I make sure to take the time to follow you back. I will also like items (that I actually like) from your closet. And I’ll take it one step further by sharing an item or two from your closet with my followers and on Pinterest too.

Then I go back to my real, off-line, work-from-home mom-of-teens life. And when I return to Poshmark, I realize there’s an array of new followers, and it would just be rude of me if I didn’t follow them back, right?

So I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a pickle. I could just go cold turkey and stop the madness. But what happens if someone makes an offer on my EUC Gingham blouse? Or the Tory boots that are no longer healthy for my heels?

It’s not like I’m buying things left and right. I’m browsing. And sharing. And selling. And having fun. Like going to the mall with my friends in 1983, minus the Orange Julius and metro fare. If this is my only vice, my only guilty pleasure, (aside from Real Housewives of Dallas) I guess there really isn’t a problem, is there?

Oh em gee, is that a vintage Gucci bag on sale?