Things sell within 48 hours or sit for months and Jellis combats algorithms by maintaining an Etsy account, where metrics calculate fresh views.Ī community of like-minded accounts support each other in the Insta-world, sharing and reposting. She posts items same day, or as soon as she can research, price and photograph them at times determining the back story of an object can take hours of digging. “Since the grandmillenial trend took hold, I’ve seen a wide range of women looking for similar old things,” Jellis says. “I love finding the unexpected, that’s why I named it ‘Joyfully Vintage.’ Customers tell me the joy they get from having something their grandparents did.”īuyers range from college to retirement age, mostly women. She’ll hit an occasional estate sale but says shopping at charitable resellers is part of her business model. Today, Jellis plots stops after school and hunts most Saturdays. It started as thrifting to find deals on quality items. “Coming up with puns or using alliteration keeps me posting daily.” “A lot of it has to do with being an English teacher,” she says. Monday Blues, Waterford Wednesdays, Saturday Steal have become favorite selling foils. Jellis uses clever wordplay to sell the trappings of the grandmillenial trend: silver flatware, brass animals, floral china. The pandemic may have curbed trip planning, but her account has become a side hustle with several thousand followers. Rachel Jellis, a sixth grade English teacher, began selling vintage tabletop on Instagram to supplement a passion for travel. We want it to be interesting and elevated, homey and heartfelt.” Joyfully Vintage, photo provided Joyfully Vintage Sells on Instagram ‘Wilson Girls’ is about an aesthetic we love a creative take on daily life, we’re living it regardless. “We are a curated shopping experience, not a big-box store with tons of employees. “I think people felt safe here,” Wilson Freeman says. (A key to the “Wilson Girls” brand is to offer only what they would have in their own homes.) Their audience responded, nearly doubling revenue sale-over-sale. Votivo candles too, but only in the scents they personally favor. They added new designer lamps and custom pillows by Kuca Home. Wilson Freeman and Seay think the magic sauce has been a handpicked mix of old and new, seasonal wares and a bevy of goods from artisans they admire, from jewelry by Urban Collars to pottery by Annie Koelle. Their Instagram account organically added thousands of hyperlocal followers, a feat that area businesses pay agencies to accomplish. Customers showed up in droves for their appointments and bought like never before. Suddenly the former C-store, with doors thrown open, felt like a semblance of a shopping experience. The plan was to allow five guests 20 minutes to shop, masks required. “The next day nearly every slot was full.” We simply used a Sign-up Genius form and waited to see,” Seay says. The sisters shut down operations for months before deciding to try an invitation-only pop-up with reserved time slots. Antiques dealers bought from them too, using them as a sort of wholesaler.ĬOVID-19 changed nearly everything. Wilson Freeman’s original art drew in designers for the Thursday-Saturday sales. They renovated a long-empty 1940s gas station in West Greenville and began hosting pop-up sales with items picked from flea markets and the overflow of their homes. Sisters Jean Wilson Freeman and Cathleen Wilson Seay established a local brand called “Wilson Girls.” The two are known for vintage styling and garnered a local following for sharing flea market conquests, holiday tables and collections. Wilson Girls, photo provided Wilson Girls Host Pop-ups Instagram became a scroll-worthy diversion while we worked or studied from home and Greenville-based accounts capitalized on selling goods using the app in unique ways. The pandemic accelerated tech-based buying and the urge to organize and redecorate drove consumers to their digital devices like never before. But online sellers and social media fueled collectors’ fire to hunt virtually. Reselling collectibles occurred during business hours, five days a week. Once upon a time, antique stores peppered the landscape along Main Street in Greenville. Meet three Greenville shopkeepers succeeding without retail hours. The resale market has gone rogue, embracing new tech for grandmillenial goods.
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