Full disclosure: I work for Patagonia in Chicago, so I’m biased towards the company’s decent practices.

I’m wearing my new favorite vest. Its orange rivals that of any Florida citrus and the fresh teal zipper bisecting the chest makes me look like some sort of sea foam cadaver. You wouldn’t be wrong for thinking, “Dope, where can I get mine?” But, I’d have to answer, “2013.”

“New favorite’” doesn’t quite tell the whole story. While a recent come-up in my own closet, the vest I’m wearing is from Patagonia’s Fall 2013 line. Sometime since then, someone else’s closet was home; not a clue in the world that my torso, it’s forever home, was still out there. So, where did we finally meet? wornwear.com—Patagonia’s online marketplace for gently-used and well-loved gear.

Patagonia has been trying its hand at the resale market for well over a decade now, but in recent years, it seems to have found its stride. While not the only brand offering its customers access to secondhand apparel—brands like Peak Design and Arc’teryx offer similar services while retailers like The Real Real and Round Two are anything but your grandparents’ vintage shop—Patagonia remains at the forefront.

As you might expect, buying used rather than new significantly lessens the footprint of our garments. Buying used extends the lifetime of a garment by about two years, while keeping stuff in use for just nine extra months can lower its total footprint by 20-30%. But, I would argue the ecological impact alone is not why Worn Wear or similar exchanges work. When you buy used, the potential exists for the exchange to be more than transactional; it becomes an inheritance. The new owner inherits the integrity the piece has accumulated thus far, something price alone cannot reflect.

Anyone who’s received a thoughtful gift knows value exists independent of cost. When each of us buys something new, we are in essence taking ownership over the care said good is likely to receive. I’ve inherited a few things from Worn Wear over the years. The tech pouch sitting beside me came courtesy of Peak Designs’ peer-to-peer marketplace. And while every item has worked and looked as intended, I’ve found the value I place on each is somehow more than their new counterparts. I can tell the vest I’m wearing has been cared for and it inspires me to do the same in turn.

Most cultures have at their core something of a reverence for the well-made. Only recently have disposable and easily-discarded goods become the norm in favor of convenience over continuity. But tug on the levers of change long enough and societal values change again.

So, how might circular economies impact our world beyond just the exchange of goods like apparel. Whether intended or not, the joy of buying used has the potential to shift culture at large. As we begin to find the inherent value of a slow-cooked meal or secondhand furniture, or just a well-loved fleece vest, maybe then we will begin to see the same value elsewhere: the value of a remnant prairie patch, or an undeveloped shoreline, or just the value of choosing patience over urgency.