Every day, the different alleys of Dhaka echo with a simple but familiar question: "Purana kapor ache?" — roughly translated as "Do you have old, used clothes?" It's not just a call; it's the beginning of a small, sustainable economy that keeps fabric in circulation and money in motion. 

Md Ramin Miah, a 21-year-old hawker, is one of the many silent agents involved in this grassroots trade. He walks the neighborhoods of the capital, collecting clothes no longer worn but still full of potential.

Ramin's trade is simple: he buys old clothes from households and sells them to resellers or recyclers. "I was inspired by my friend Laos. He's been doing this for the past seven years. It's quite good," Ramin said. "At the end of the day, I make a profit of around 1,000 taka." 

"We wash the clothes, mend them if needed, and sell them at affordable prices. You'd be surprised by what we find. Sometimes, there are branded clothes from Aarong, Anjans, and other boutiques — just worn out, with ink stains or small tears. We fix what we can. It's all about making them wearable again."

This kind of trade is quite a popular profession in the under-developed areas such as the outskirts of the capital including Jatrabari, Mirpur and Puran Dhaka. Hawkers like Ramin also operate in Savar. In areas like Savar, the practice of selling old clothes by weighing these is also in trend.  

From households to hawkers How the trade works

Ramin buys various garments at minimal prices — a punjabi for 10 taka, salwar kameez sets for 10–20 taka, shirts and pants for 10 taka, and suits for 50–80 taka. These clothes, once destined for dust-covered corners or landfills, find new destiny in Ramin's hands. People even sell bedsheets to the hawkers, which are then washed or repaired to make it sellable again. 

"I don't wash or repair the clothes," he explained. "I just sort them based on fabric and condition and sell them to my buyers."

Each day, from late morning, at around 10 am, he starts his journey and walks till mid-afternoon, through more than 11 areas of Dhaka — including Agargaon, Mohammadpur, Adabor, Badda, Rampura, and Malibagh — in search of homes willing to part with their unused garments.

"It's mostly housewives who sell me clothes. They're the ones managing wardrobes and storage," he added. "And mostly it's middle-class or lower-middle-class families. I guess the rich people don't care much about their old clothes."

For families like that of Lutfun Nahar, a 38-year-old school teacher and mother of three, the decision to sell used clothes is both practical and emotional.

"Children grow up fast. Their clothes get smaller every few months," she said. "I try to donate them when I can, but there's always more piling up. Instead of throwing them away or letting them rot, I decided to sell them. This way, someone else can use them, and the fabric doesn't go to waste."

It's a decision many families face, balancing sentimentality with space and utility. Old school uniforms, slightly torn shirts, or faded salwar kameezes — all are given up in hopes they find a new purpose.

Sorting, washing, selling the second-hand storefront

Once Ramin collects the clothes, many end up with traders like Md Jasim, who runs a makeshift second-hand clothing stall in Agargaon. It's a modest setup, but vital for thousands who can't afford new garments.

Jasim buys in bulk from collectors like Ramin. "We wash the clothes, mend them if needed, and sell them at affordable prices," he said. "A shirt might go for 20–40 taka, a punjabi or fatua for around 30 taka, and salwar kameez sets for 50 taka." 

By doing this, Jasim manages to get a turnover of 40 thousand taka per month.

Jasim's wife and daughter help him in this work. They wash the clothes and do the necessary mending. 

His customers are rickshaw pullers, day labourers, and people living in informal settlements — those who need sturdy clothes without high price tags. Although sometimes university students also buy shirts from him.

Md Jubayer, a fine arts student of Dhaka University, was browsing through the oversized shirts and fatuas in Jashim's store. "As a drawing and painting student, I need shirts that will get paint stains."  

"You'd be surprised by what we find," Jasim added. "Sometimes, there are branded clothes from Aarong, Anjans, and other boutiques — just worn out, with ink stains or small tears. We fix what we can. It's all about making them wearable again."

In a fast fashion world that often favours the new over the necessary, this second-hand clothing economy quietly offers an alternative. It's sustainable, resourceful, and deeply connected to community needs.

Though informal and unregulated, this chain — from household to hawker to stall — plays a crucial role in recycling textile waste. Clothes too damaged to be worn are sold to jhut (scrap) collectors, who in turn resell them for industrial use.

This way, almost nothing goes to waste.

At the same time, the business offers employment and income for many like Ramin, who might otherwise struggle to find stable work. "It is very tough. No matter how the weather is — it may be raining or there is scorching heat, I have to get out for work. At least I'm not begging — I'm earning," he said.

According to Ramin, before Eid celebrations and during November-December, his business surges. "Children start schooling with new uniforms. So the mothers usually sell the used clothes or uniforms, which play a role in boosting my business."   

Where are these clothes sold 

Used clothes are sold in many places in the country. But a separate, large market has been established in Becharam Deuri, Begumganj area of Old Dhaka, focusing on the sale of these clothes. Many people also call it the 'capital' of selling used clothes.

Apart from this, this kind of clothes are also sold in different areas including Taltola in Khilgaon, Agargaon, Notun Bazar and in the alleys of Jatrabari.

One of the owners of such a store is Asadur Rahman. He buys old, faded, and worn-out fabrics at wholesale prices. He also buys completely unusable (rotten) fabrics. He then sells them to owners of printing presses, car paint workshops, and furniture factories. 

At the same time, traders who sell clothes on sidewalks in and outside Dhaka are also buyers of these old clothes, Asadur said. 

"Workers working in rod-making factories in the country use a type of socks for hand use. And these jeans pants are used to make those socks. The companies that make these socks are the main buyers of these pants", added Asadur Rahman. 

Jashim gave interesting information about lungi. Lungis are used to clean and wipe various machines in furniture factories and printing presses. Silk sari is used to polish the exterior of a car after it has been painted.

More than a transaction dignity and necessity 

What may seem like an insignificant exchange — a few shirts traded for 50 taka — is part of a larger story about dignity, survival, and reuse.

For the buyers, it's a way to dress respectably within limited means. For the sellers, it's a way to clear space, make a small profit, and feel that the clothes once worn by their children or loved ones might serve another family.

Dhaka, like many fast-growing cities, faces complex challenges around waste management, clothing waste being a significant part. Yet amidst these challenges, people like Ramin and Jasim are part of an informal but effective solution.

They don't use fancy words like "circular economy" or "upcycling." But in their daily efforts — walking, bargaining, sorting, mending — they embody those ideas more authentically than most.