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The fast-fashion industry, which churns out inexpensive, trendy clothing that is so poorly constructed as to be almost disposable, has exploded over the past decade—and so have its impacts. Some 92 million tons of textile waste end up in landfills around the world each year; mass producers (think: Shein, Zara, H&M) contribute up to 10 percent of global carbon emissions; and the exploitation of garment workers abounds.
Here in Denver, however, a growing community of designers is unearthing vintage finds, reimagining heirloom textiles, and creating highly personalized pieces to reclaim what fashion can be: thoughtful, resourceful, and timeless.
Emily Alvizu, Bohemian Scrapcity
Emily Alvizu’s mantra is simple: “As long as it’s used, it’s in play.” From jackets born out of vintage blankets to price tags cut from recycled cardstock, Alvizu blends new and old materials into items that carry both beauty and meaning. When she began learning to sew in her late 20s, she found both a playground and a safety net in thrift stores. “It’s really scary to go to a fabric store and spend $30 when you don’t know what you’re doing,” she says. “But at a thrift store, you can get something for two bucks, and it’s easier to make mistakes and learn from them.”
Those experiments evolved into a signature style that’s rooted in the nostalgia of the late ’60s and ’70s—an era she admires for its free-spirited approach to self-expression. She gravitates toward textiles like crocheted afghans and embroidered throws that already carry craftsmanship. “Somebody spent so much time on this, and they made it out of love,” she says. One client brought her a blanket made by their mother, and Alvizu transformed it into a coat. “It’s the continuation of that creative story,” she says.
Part of the chapter Alvizu is adding involves making sure consumers know how to find makers like her. Events like Denver-born ThriftCon, which now hosts celebrations of vintage clothing and collectibles across the country, are promising starts, Alvizu says, to her vision: a sustainable fashion world that feels less like an industry and more like a community. Visit Bohemian Scrapcity on Instagram at @bohemianscrapcity to see Alvizu’s market schedule or inquire about a custom piece.
Kayte Green, Recovering Hipster
Step inside Recovering Hipster, and you’ll find racks of treasures so artfully arranged, you may not realize you’re shopping secondhand at all. Founder Kayte Green and a group of vintage and secondhand curators scour estate and garage sales as well as thrift shops to stock the space (currently in Stanley Marketplace, moving to East Colfax Avenue in early 2026). Customers can also trade pieces for cash or store credit. “Every piece is well thought through,” Green says. “It’s not like when you go to the thrift store, where you have to dig. We have hand-chosen, cleaned, and put together a collection.”
Her shop is built on the principle that when it comes to fashion, there’s already enough—enough clothing and enough creativity. “We’re conduits for these pieces to find that second, third, or fourth life,” says Green, who sees herself as part of a growing movement in Denver. Long known—and sometimes mocked—for its outdoorsy, casual style, the city has recently seen a boom in secondhand boutiques and pop-ups (see: the Old School Cool Vintage Market series, South Park Hill’s Found In Denver, and Scavenged Goods on East Colfax Avenue).
“Denver gives any other major city a run for its money when it comes to vintage and secondhand,” Green says. “People are embracing the culture, and it’s a really exciting time to be a woman in fashion. There’s such a supportive group of women that believe in sustainability, upcycling, and using their creativity.” Recovering Hipster: Stanley Marketplace, 2501 Dallas St., Aurora (through December), 2940 East Colfax Ave., Denver (beginning in January 2026)
Elisabeth Strunk, Flash and Rose
The first time Elisabeth Strunk paired her love of making art with fashion was when she was 19 and painted a rose on a shirt. But adding flair to jackets and pants was just a passion project until the day, a little over two years ago, she pulled a pair of white coveralls out of her closet. “I figured I’d just draw tattoo designs on them,” she says, and proceeded to wear them to a market, where people were more interested in the coveralls than the art Strunk had brought to sell. “I was like, Maybe I should take my art to clothes.”
Today, Strunk searches local spots for denim, leather, and canvas pieces to upcycle. “The whole concept of my brand, Flash and Rose, is tattooing your clothes, and I only paint in black, white, and red,” she says. “Narrows the thrifting down.” Once she has her items, she draws her designs by hand, never tracing; a jacket, for example, can take her eight hours to outline and fill in with paints specifically for fabric and leather. The slow pace is deliberate, a result of the commitment to sustainability Strunk cultivated while working as a visual merchandiser for Patagonia. “It’s really crazy how much waste the fashion industry creates,” she says. From skipping cutesy wrapping paper to avoiding shipping’s carbon footprint by offering local pickup and selling through area shops—including City Park’s Scavenged Goods and Strawberry Mountain on Santa Fe Drive—Strunk believes that her small choices add up and hopes to inspire her customers to make more thoughtful choices too.
But more than anything, she wants people to feel good in her clothing. “At the core, my ‘why’ is feeling confident in what you’re wearing and being able to express yourself, not having to hide yourself or your identity,” Strunk says. “You should wear what you want to wear; that’s the whole point.” Inquire about custom pieces via Instagram (@flash.and.rose and @elisabeth.strunk) or email (info@flash-and-rose.com).
Leah Rich, Round Trip Goods
The magic of plant dye, Leah Rich says, is that no two items ever turn out the same. Soil, water, even how plants are picked can alter the colors they produce. Under the banner of Round Trip Goods, Rich transforms secondhand garments using marigolds, indigo, and other plants she grows, buys, or forages. “I usually work with a blank article of clothing I find at the thrift store—something with a good cut or nice feel,” she says. “Then I think about what colors I want for that textile.”
For Rich, it’s not just about aesthetics; it’s about rethinking how we relate to what we wear. Synthetic dyes, she says, are petroleum byproducts, disconnected from the natural world. Plant dyes, by contrast, are alive with cultural stories and ecological connections. Cochineal, for example, is a vivid red dye that comes from tiny insects that have been cultivated in Mexico for centuries. “When people are attracted to a color on a shirt, I love telling them where it really comes from,” Rich says.
If one of her designs doesn’t sell, she redyes and reintroduces it rather than discarding it. She even hosts natural-dye workshops and monthly mending nights that teach clothing repair. “People still hear the word ‘fashion’ and automatically think it’s not for them,” Rich says. “But we all wear clothes. If we could rebrand it to sustainable clothing, that’s something everyone identifies with.” Visit roundtripgoods.com to browse ready-to-wear clothing or to sign up for a dye or mending class.
Holly-Kai Hurd, wEmusTgRoW: Couture for Change
“When I got into it, we didn’t call it sustainable,” says Holly-Kai Hurd, who creates designs for individuals as well as costumes for the likes of the Aurora Fox Arts Center and Phamaly Theatre Company. “That wasn’t the goal. It was just…what we did.” In many communities of color, reuse wasn’t a trend—it was a necessity. Hurd’s first boutique, House of Mesha on Park Avenue West, was born out of those sensibilities. From 2003 to 2005, Hurd carried new apparel by independent designers alongside her own remixed creations.
Today, her brand, wEmusTgRoW: Couture for Change (the capitalization is random, a reflection of the idea that “we are constantly growing, in no particular pattern”), focuses on the story each piece tells both the wearer and the world. She recalls a Muslim woman with three sons graduating. “She wanted a dress with a cape; each panel had one of her sons’ names in Islamic script,” says Hurd, who collaborated on the garment with Denver jewelry designer Jannah Farooque. “One day, she could give each son his piece.” A skirt was inspired by a line in The Book of Night Women by Marlon James, in which a girl describes another as “floating, no feet touching the ground.” Later, at a festival, someone told Hurd she looked like she was gliding.
It’s that transportive experience, Hurd says, she wants to create for her clients too: “Sometimes it’s as small as a stranger walking past and smiling at your outfit. Sometimes it’s as big as a crowd circling you at a gala.” Find wEmusTgRoW: Couture for Change on Instagram at @we_must_grow, or reach out via email to wemustgrow.boutique@gmail.com to inquire about a custom piece.
Brandi McMichael, Kingdom Work
In the early 2000s, Brandi McMichael’s handbag designs earned her recognition in 5280 as an “up-and-comer.” More than two decades later, she has certainly arrived, now specializing in divinely inspired garments through her Kingdom Work line. The collection blends her love of fashion with her faith: In a dress based on the Book of Daniel and made out of a pillowcase, she ironed Bible pages onto fabric to represent dreams interpreted by Daniel for a king.
McMichael’s creative journey has long been influenced by history, starting with her own. “Family pieces are very meaningful to me,” she says. Her closet is filled with her mother’s colorful leotards from the ’80s and ’90s, her grandmother’s scarves, and even her father’s sheriff’s department jumpsuit. After her mother died in 2019, she inherited the stylish woman’s many saved boxes of clothing—a “treasure trove,” McMichael says. When she got married in 2023, McMichael wore her mother’s wedding train—which she worked with local bridal designer Maggie Burns to transform into a dress. “It was a way to incorporate my mom in our wedding when she couldn’t be there,” she says. She has also turned table runners from her wedding cake display into a dress and spray-painted a thrifted trench coat into a modern take on Joseph’s coat of many colors.
“Each piece I create tells a story—of faith, hope, and sustainable beauty,” she explains on her website. “I love transforming unexpected materials into meaningful designs that declare truth and bring light.” For McMichael, every stitch, every upcycled material, and every runway moment is an act of love, worship, and heritage. Reach out via the contact form on brandimcmichael.com to inquire about a custom design.
Read More: 14 of the Best Places to Thrift in Denver
