Furnishing My Daughter’s College Apartment: A Tale of Reuse, Connection, and Technology

Planning began early this summer for moving my daughter, Kat, into her first apartment. She would be returning to the Boston area for her Junior year of college. The apartment she and two friends were moving into was unfurnished.

We could have ordered furniture and home goods in advance and scheduled their delivery for when we were there. Amazon, Ikea, and other global retailers have quickly become the default for setting up new living arrangements. No, I suggested, let’s see what we can find when we get to Boston. Kat went along with it somewhat reluctantly.

Little did I know that this shopping experience would lead to reflection on our intrinsic needs related to connection as well as sharing and treasuring material goods; why meeting these needs in today’s economy is so elusive; and what we might do about it.

We planned to go to secondhand stores first and see what we could find. After that, we’d hit some retail stores for what else was needed.

The problem we discovered upon arrival in Boston was that there seemed to be only one useful store for secondhand residential furniture in the entire metro area – Habitat for Humanity Restore. It was about a 40-minute drive from my daughter’s apartment. Without other choices, off we went.

The warehouse-sized store had an impressive amount of furniture. We quickly grabbed a nightstand and lamp that Kat liked. We found a dresser that she loved, but another customer had already taken it. The desks and chairs there were not going to work. We left with the two items.

The next stop was to a discount furniture retailer. There, a salesperson put together an order for a desk, chair, dresser, and rug, but it couldn’t be delivered until after I left to go back to San Francisco. I was there to help Kat get moved in, so that didn’t feel right.

Kat had mentioned she had seen some things on Facebook Marketplace. As an infrequent Facebook user, I didn’t know it existed. We started looking there and were soon off on a couple of days of adventure.

We sent several messages to people selling furniture they no longer needed. We heard back from about a third of the people and made our way to their homes one by one.

We picked up a desk from Dean and his family in the nearby suburb of Malden. The next day, we got a dresser from Zlata in that same town, an upholstered desk chair (which Kat especially loved) from Lauren in the Beacon Hill neighborhood of Boston, and a rug from Emily on the other side of the city. The colors and design of the chosen pieces complemented each other well. We ate dinner in Boston, and on our way back to Somerville, we met Ben to buy a mirror from him. We were exhausted, but the quest for bedroom furniture was complete (the prior tenant had also sold her a bed and mattress).

The next day, it was time to focus on household goods. We were tired of scrolling on Facebook, but thought we’d check to see what else was available. Sure enough, later that day, we picked up a set of bowls, plates, and mugs from Michael, as well as some additional bowls and plates from Sam.

There were clear pros and cons to our secondhand shopping journey.

We saved a lot of money. The order for new furniture at the discount store would have cost about $1,500. The used furniture pieces we picked up were mostly of superior quality, in good condition, and cost a total of $285.

We enjoyed meeting the different people. Sam was selling everything before he headed out on an extended international trip. Lauren was moving across town, and her dad was coming in to help her move that weekend. Emily was also relocating and was very excited about her next apartment that she could afford on her new salary. Zlata was in a hurry but was patient with us. Michael washed the dishes just before he sold them to us. Dean and his wife chatted with us while their two daughters played on their quiet street.

We discovered new neighborhoods and local businesses. In the town of Malden, we ate acai at the wonderful family-owned Bikeeny Cafe. In the Brighton neighborhood of Boston, we stopped at Athan’s European Bakery for a pot of tea and delicious cookies. Across the street, we shopped at a Marathon Sports store, part of a regional chain, and bought a pair of shoes for Kat (one more thing off the list!), all while experiencing exceptional customer service.

By reusing perfectly good furniture, we did our part to conserve resources. There was also no packaging involved.

On the con side, we drove a lot over a couple of days. Having become accustomed to largely car-free living in San Francisco, I didn't enjoy spending so much time behind the wheel and was also aware of the emissions we were creating. Being stuck in traffic was not fun, but we were part of it.

It was time-consuming. In addition to the driving, scrolling Facebook Marketplace and messaging filled up good chunks of the day. Had we ordered from Ikea and assembled furniture, however, I’m not sure we would have saved much time. We watched one of her roommates’ families do just that. It was great teamwork, but not necessarily a quick or easy task.

The use of technology was a blessing and a curse. The platform provided access to a large array of items and connected us directly with sellers. But it was Facebook (enough said). We could have perhaps used other platforms, like Buy Nothing (which I’ve used in San Francisco but requires a membership to add locations) or Curb Alert Somerville (which we learned about later and is a Facebook group). However, our initial success with Facebook Marketplace and waiting for responses kept us locked in there.

Regardless of the platform, scrolling through items on our phones was mentally draining. Looking at so many things in rapid succession, much like general social media use, is tiring. Having to respond quickly to messages was hanging over us for those couple of days. The dopamine rush kicked in, too, keeping us coming back for more…just one more scroll, let’s see what we can find!

The amount of money saved, connections made with different people and neighborhoods, and the feeling of satisfaction from participating in reuse were all positives. 

I knew, however, that what we were doing was far from the norm. That was part of Kat’s initial reluctance to shop for reused items when we got to Boston. The message, conveyed through pervasive marketing, is that college students everywhere are shopping on Amazon, Target, and IKEA for furnishing and home goods.

What if, instead, the availability of places and opportunities, as well as social norms, support local reuse of goods? Each neighborhood could have a community reuse store, either a for-profit business or a nonprofit organization. There could also be community events like Stop ‘N’ Swaps in New York City.

As it turns out, there was a more local secondhand furniture reuse store —the MIT Furniture Exchange — that Kat and I could have used. Unlike the name suggests, the store caters to students from multiple universities in the surrounding area, including Tufts, where Kat is a student.

Salvation Army and Goodwill thrift stores are also available nationwide. There was one Salvation Army store and two Goodwill thrift stores nearby. It was difficult to determine if and how much furniture or home goods were available at these locations. Maybe we could have found some items there.

The challenge is finding secondhand stores that are likely to have what you need. It takes quite a bit of research. I didn’t discover the ones listed just above until after our trip. For a local reuse economy to work, it needs to be relatively easy and somewhat automatic for people to both discard and find items.

Local governments, schools, and collaborative efforts among local organizations can all serve as catalysts for creating local reuse economies by supporting local businesses and organizations that facilitate the exchange of used goods. They can help develop initiatives, campaigns, and other incentives to make it easy to find used items and foster a culture that prioritizes reuse as the first step in shopping for household items. 

As I write about in my book, which covers consumer goods in one chapter, the fourth system change catalyst is you – personal change. Someone has to get the ball rolling. The more who do, the more a new social norm can be established that replaces the dominant ‘buy new’ and ‘buy more’ narrative perpetuated by corporations trying to meet Wall Street expectations.

To push toward a more localized, secondhand consumer goods economy, it’s helpful to keep the benefits front and center. Local in-person stores and events for exchanging secondhand household goods reduce the cost of living, transportation miles for goods, and time spent on our phones searching for items, alleviating mental fatigue. Satisfying connections can instead be forged among residents and local vendors. The convenience of nearby exchanges for used items is better than scrolling through online platforms and driving all over the place, making it more appealing to a broader audience. With a sense of local pride and neighborhood connection, local reuse centers and events could become the default choice for people to get what they need for their homes, while helping build community bonds.

Of course, online exchanges could still play a role, but it’s important to interrogate the relationship between technology platforms and locally supportive conditions for reuse. There may be a direct link between metropolitan areas, such as Boston, having minimal residential furniture and household goods reuse stores and the growth of online exchanges like Facebook Marketplace. Although helpful in facilitating reuse, virtual platforms replace or diminish possibilities for in-person community exchange stores and events.

Perhaps above all, we can take an honest look at society and identify the values that matter most over time. When values are made explicit, we gain a clearer understanding of what is being lost in the dominant consumer goods system. Convenience often trumps connection, conserving resources, and even saving money. In our fast-paced society, which prioritizes the quick fulfillment of material wants and needs, retail corporations constantly market the ease of online ordering, door delivery, and the vast array of consumer goods available online and in big-box stores. In this mode, we continue to use up new resources at unsustainable rates, connect less and less with people or community in the real world, and can easily spend much more money than we would on quality reused goods. The environment, community bonds, and financial security get compromised in the process.

I know our story of driving all over the Boston metro is not the answer, nor should it be, given what we added to traffic congestion and pollution. Yet, the positives we experienced on that adventure can be brought closer to home if we prioritize nature, connection, and people struggling to make ends meet, act accordingly, and work with others to build systems that support local reuse economies.

Kat was very excited when her room all came together. It looked great, but I sensed the connections we made along the way added to her joy. And the money we saved is helping preserve our college savings account!