Practices of Divestment, Acquisition and Circulation of Things in a Swapshop in Riga, Latvia

[Maarja – Please start the section by first defining what is participant observation using methodological literature. Throughout the chapter you should support your narrative with methodological literature.]

I started the fieldwork for this thesis by volunteering in Brīvbode in February 2024, joining the weekly shifts for a couple of hours in the beginning. This role was not entirely unfamiliar to me – for several months in summer 2021 I worked at a Brīvbode pop-up venue in the Āgenskalns neighbourhood during the Covid-19 pandemic. The visiting experience differed back then as visitors were required to book time slots in advance due to gathering restrictions. The experience of material flows that were part of Brīvbode stayed with me –

both the intensity of accumulation and of objects getting stuck, the gradual familiarisation with the regular visitors and their habits and preferences, the physical effort of managing what came in and what needed to go out of the swapshop (e.g. using my cargo bike to take the ever growing number of unusable clothing bags to the textile recycling bins). I still cherish certain clothing and household items that remained in my household collection as favourites from that time.

Even though the principles are similar, each Brīvbode location has its specifics, and over the months of fieldwork – usually my weekly shifts in Lastādija – I renewed my competence in managing the flow of materials, evaluating and sorting donations, tidying, moving objects, witnessing and mediating occasional tensions in the shop. I took fieldnotes during and after visits, and occasionally photographed the space and its contents. Also, continuously handling material objects is a kind of activity that eases conversation; sorting alongside someone, or commenting together on an object, easily opens exchanges, and I used opportunities to chat with fellow volunteers and visitors.

Consequently, I paid more attention to public discussions e.g. among friends, family and on social media when people shared their habits, practices, uncertainties and frustrations, and I have occasionally used them as secondary sources.

The most of the fieldwork was done in the first half of 2024, from February to June. Repeated visits throughout 2025, several interviews in 2025 and additional two interviews were conducted and added to the corpus in the beginning of 2026.

[Maarja – Add a bit more detail, for example how long did the fieldwork last?]

During my fieldwork, I conducted 15 interviews with Brīvbode visitors and volunteers. Interviews were semi-structured, combining a pre-established question guide with a flexible and open-ended approach. Ten longer interviews between 60 and 90 minutes were conducted, and five shorter conversations between 20 and 45 minutes in length, part conducted on-site without prior arrangement. My first interview was with Alise – the founder of Brīvbode and a key person in the field with a true talent for connecting with visitors. Being familiar with many of their stories, she introduced me to some of the visitors, while others I approached during my volunteering hours. Participants included both long-term visitors who had witnessed changes in the venue and could reflect on their practice over the years, as well as novices who shared a fresh impression of their introduction to the practice and the site.

Most research participants and the majority of practitioners in Brīvbode are women which partly reflects the gendered participation in the practice and the division of consumption work.

Although not exclusively so – men do visit Brīvbode and often have different practice trajectories – e.g. sellers of used books, electronics, collectors of CD’s, DVD’s and vinils –- so it is a limitation.

There is a lot less men’s clothing in Brīvbode. Standards to assess men’s clothing differ – as it is assumed men use clothing for work. Attempts to interview regular male visitors – one was not used in the corpus because the interview was not usable due to… –, another because the initially recruited participant pulled out his participation.

Two of the interviewees were men – one volunteer, and one a partner of a regular visitor who himself is not a direct swapshop user – he was chosen to draw on the theme of domestic consumption work and the division of this labour within households.

Some of the interviews in summer 2024 were conducted on site, in the yard of the swapshop. On several occasions, when the weather allowed it, I set up a table outdoors and invited visitors to sit for a conversation right after their visits. Following the principle that things are constitutive of practices, I used it as an opportunity to ask about their acquisitions and divestments during the visit, as well as their favourite and memorable objects acquired in Brīvbode as prompts to uncover material-practice relations [e.g. Mesiranta et al. 2023 – Circular consumption practices as matters of care]. This also corresponds to how Appadurai speaks of “methodological fetishism” [reference] with regards to returning our attention to the things themselves.

I also interviewed volunteers for longer conversations without interruption outside their working hours – some in Brīvbode, others in cafes. Later two of the interviews were conducted in visitors’ homes, thus offering an opportunity to observe household material arrangements, micro-infrastructures of storage and divestment, and talk about the circulation histories of specific objects in their domestic environment.

The interview guide was organized around themes: participants' practices of acquisition and divestment, their relationship to the objects they brought and took, and the social and material dimensions of their participation in Brīvbode. While the guide included some questions on attitudes and motivations, most were designed to elicit accounts of what people actually do – how they choose what to bring, what routes objects take through their households, who does the work of sorting and transporting, and what the process of letting go feels like. Following the principles of practice-theoretical methods, the questions sought to access the practical, embodied, and often taken-for-granted dimensions of household goods circulation: the routines, competencies, and emotional labor involved in managing the flow of things. Where questions touched on values and motivations, these were treated not as explanations for behavior but as part of the meanings participants attach to their practices – an element among materials, competencies, and social arrangements in shaping how circulation is organized and reproduced.

Including various divestment routes available to them and on what occasions and how Brīvbode was chosen over other options.

How things were chosen before attending Brīvbode, the methods for collecting it at home –– (temporal, infrastructure), as well as why particular things were selected over others.

Notions of ownership and value and how their perception on how the unregulated non-monetary transaction influences their – also questions probing for moments of friction and confusion – on whether there is hesitation, feelings of doing it right or wrong way.

[I also drew on a technique Nicolini (2009) calls the interview with the double – asking participants how they would describe “freecycling” to a friend who is not familiar with the concept, which, as Nicolini notes (2009: page number) tends to produce “the going concerns which orient the conduct of the members and the normative and moral dimension of practice”.]

Most interviews were conducted in Latvian (one partly in Russian). They were recorded with participant consent and transcribed. Quotes used in the thesis have been translated to English by me.

Throughout the fieldwork period I kept a diary for documenting and describing the circulation of goods in my own household – what arrived, what left, by what routes and in what practice sequences, I noted the spatial and temporal contexts for these practices, as well as the related meanings, uncertainties and frustrations.

The diary gave me space to express and make visible the mundane consumption, divestment work and care work around household objects – reviewing, evaluating and sorting children’s clothes, the early morning moments of browsing second hand portals as an enactment of care for others, the frustration with clutter and the pull of something on Brīvbode shelves, as well as thoughts about aspiring to be a good circular consumer. I treated these reflections as data, and keeping a diary allowed me to reflect on the circulation patterns in my household and to be cautious about my interpretations of what I observed in the field.

Overall, I have been and am sympathetic to the Brīvbode initiative and to the people who sustain it. This sympathy is productive – it gives me access, a certain ease of rapport, and insider understanding, while it also carries some risks. I have tried to address this by carefully attending to friction, tension, and contradiction in my data: the tensions around divestment of things from Brīvbode, the gap between Brīvbode's ideal social function and the quieter, less communal reality of many visits [more].

[Also, taking Brīvbode as my research guides/thinking about ways my research could also be useful to them – e.g. asking what questions they would be interested in being studied in more detail – one suggestion was exploring the exchange networks that go beyond the visitors, making the network of beneficiaries a lot wider.]

We can look at freecycling in Brīvbode as starting with the outward flow from households with things no longer needed or wanted. The practice of managing this flow – what Počinkova et al. (2023) call voluntary disposal – is what brings most donors to Brīvbode. Brīvbode is one node in the infrastructure of divestment practice, a specific node, distinguished from others by what it means to route divestment through it.

Things accumulate at home and are then released in batches into Brīvbode following a pooling logic: instead of responding to a specific receiver’s demand, people contribute to a stock. Giving does not follow specific requests… Givers contribute to Brīvbode without a specific receiver; the giving and receiving are decoupled – the separation is achieved through an intermediary space.

“Giving is structured by the motives of the givers rather than by the needs of the receivers”.

Our hopes to cut our ties with things while hopefully benefitting someone else.

Questions about the notions of responsibility over things one “owns” – and the possibility of passing it over to the freeshop and the imagined end user.

Getting rid of things well is a service in demand. For several weeks after the Brīvbode pop-up venue in Āgenskalns closed at the end of summer 2021, people kept bringing boxes and bags of belongings, leaving them in front of the empty shop.

Disposal functions as a precondition to other practices (Sigaard, 2026) – identity work,

Identity and style: "I think, I brought those graphic t-shirts. I think they no longer suit me. And also, in March I decided I want to change my style a bit. So I brought, I think, the graphic t-shirts."

Līga: "I would like them to wear out faster." Līga's clothes last too long. She does not wear them out – they sit in the wardrobe in wearable condition while she no longer wants them. The responsibility she feels toward still-wearable things is a constraint: she cannot simply discard them because they are not worn out.

Space as a constituting material element also within the household dimension: the relation between the size of our homes and the movement of stuff – in order to fulfill, for example, the ideal of decluttering in a smaller sized home one needs to have strong boundaries and established divestment routes.

"I feel I don't control my living space. Is my desire to 'care for the environment' neurotic? I'm looking for things to take to Brīvbode, and I really want to get rid of something. I read that life cycle analysis for household items must include 'energy use for storage' – yes, including mental energy…" the psychological weight of stuff, the moral anxiety of responsible disposal. Divestment can be emotionally loaded.

shaped by their assessments of what is too good to throw away, their hopes for objects finding new trajectories with other carriers, their relationships to objects, their competence and capacity to manage the work of responsible disposal. Supply is often genuinely unpredictable: sometimes confusing, sometimes broken, occasionally extraordinary objects. Motivation for volunteers to recruit more practitioners who would bring in things of good quality and improve the overall practice.

[Novice] Marta: “Man gadu gadiem ilgi arī krājās lietas, ko man pašai bija žēl vienkārši izmest vai vienkārši noziedot, bet es nezinu, kas pēc tam viņas pārpārdos, kur viņas nokļūs un... Es labāk pati atnesu, nolieku, un man ir mierīga sirds. Es zinu, ka kādam ir iespēja tās lietas izmantot un kāds būs ļoti laimīgs.” The emotional work that the practice of divestment via Brīvbode accomplishes – it resolves the moral discomfort of uncertainty about where things go. Brīvbode provides a resolution to the emotional ambivalence of divestment.

Also, important: the differentiation from the infrastructure providers… Both the containers and Brīvbode offer removal and presumed social good, but Brīvbode offers witnessed social good – the taking can often be seen and the circulation works very quickly.

Laura actively dislikes the textile containers because she does not trust where the things go. She prefers Brīvbode because she can see that items go directly to people who use them: "I'd rather bring it here, and I'll actually give it to people further on." The transparency of the exchange is itself a value. The visibility of the social good done is part of what makes the practice worth doing.

Līga: "My inner hope is that a person will come to Brīvbode – a homeless person, from Ķengarags or Purvciems – who will take it." Līga's idealized vision of who uses Brīvbode – a person with genuine need who will take what she brings. She explicitly frames this as possibly naive: "Or a person who has less, who needs it, takes it. On the other hand, there [at other places] I think they'll sell it all." She knows things are sold everywhere – Otrā Elpa, containers – but maintains the hope that Brīvbode routes things to people who need them directly.

The imagined person in need – also lower quality standards… (I could still wear this…)

The content of the parcels is puzzling – old plates, perhaps used under houseplants for years, items that more likely belong in a bin than on a shelf. Yet the same sender, another time, sends a bag full of colourful, folk style knitted mittens. Laid out on the sorting table they stop people mid-browse. Are those free as well? How many would it be okay to take?

Observation (should aim for practice statements): "Often for these people we're simply a place to dump it all and go buy new things." Alise's honest acknowledgment that Brīvbode functions as a pressure valve enabling more consumption rather than less for many visitors. Brīvbode is evidence of the structural condition rather than a solution to it.

Alternative, caring system in tension with a low-threshold overflow channel.

Brīvbode is a theatre of domestic overflow – people are stage workers, participatory workers… Dealing with costumes and decorations… Museum of overflow. “The museum of unappreciated things”.

Hangers, shelves. (Boxes, random stuff). Alise – krāsas kā Degās. Decoration, style – to resemble retail space with diy.

Un tad viņa tur visur sastutē savas mīkstās mantiņas, jo tad viņa jūtās labi, ka viss tur sēž zaķīši un kaķīši logos, dīvānos un tamlīdzīgi. Tad es ienāku, es saķeru galvu, cik viss ir šausmīgi. Bet tu saproti, nu, tas ir tas brīvprātīgais darbs un tā pašiniciatīva, kas tev ir jānovērtē, lai kā tev nepatīk, tā ir iniciatīva, ka cilvēks dara. Viņam rūp, viņš grib, lai ir skaisti un forši, un tā ir viņa saprašana par to, kas ir skaisti un forši, ka tur zaķīši skatās pa logu. Un tas ir tas mans izaicinājums iekšējais arī, ka katrs uztaisa to savu kārtību. Un, kad es ne vienmēr varu pateikt…

"And then she stuffs all her soft toys everywhere, because then she feels good that little rabbits and cats are sitting in the windows, on sofas and so on. Then I come in and grab my head – how terrible everything is. But you understand, that's volunteer work and that self-initiative that you have to appreciate... And that's my internal challenge too – that everyone creates their own order."

Moral and relational value.

Ease of circulation and disposal.

"[…] I'm perhaps less attached to things now. That it's okay that they rotate through their cycle, that there's a place to bring them and I know they will be taken and will go on further. That I no longer cling – it's no longer the case that either I'll wear it or I'll throw it in the bin. […] You no longer have that heaviness around a thing, that I did buy it for €40, how can I now throw it out or give it away, not wear it. Now it's simply: doesn't suit – bring it back. Try it, it works, it doesn't. It's much freer."

A woman came into Brīvbode, I think I've seen her before. She laughs: 'I left home with clothes, coming back in socks. I don't need anything.'" Viņai ir palicis karsti (diena ir ļoti saulaina), tāpēc viņa atstāj Brīvbodē savu jaku.

"Woman: I'll take this and leave my jacket in its place. I like this one better."

Woman: “I took these shoes, left mine instead. Today with these trousers, the high heel doesn't suit. Hopefully no fungus."

Opportunities of return – responsibility after feeling the piece of clothing, not after paying… Alise: And you understand – if you buy something, you can just as well not wear it and you have no guilty conscience. Because I have that percentage of things I take or buy or acquire for myself that I always know won't get worn regardless of whether I've paid money for it or not. So the safest thing is to invest as little as possible in it."

Buying second hand items online and finding they don’t fit after all – Ieva. Not bothering selling them further, avoiding divestment work.

"Because for a small person it's quite hard to find trousers... But here there's the opportunity to try them on and so on."

decoupling giving and receiving through an intermediary space manages the social discomfort of charity without eliminating the moral register of the gift:

Widlok (2017) describes “give boxes” as infrastructures that enable the circulation of goods while decoupling the acts of giving and receiving. Items tend to move quickly, indicating ongoing demand, while users often frame their participation in terms of giving–disposing of items “too good to throw away”–even when they primarily engage in taking. This separation helps avoid the discomfort associated with direct receipt or begging, particularly in contexts where entitlement to goods is expected to be earned.

At the same time, give boxes are not fully aligned with sharing in the strict sense. While they are positioned outside of commercial exchange, they are often understood by participants within a moral register of charity or almsgiving, rather than as open-ended sharing practices. Complaints about individuals who extract items for resale further highlight tensions between different interpretations of the practice.

More broadly, Widlok argues that sharing practices tend to minimise direct reciprocity by decoupling giving and receiving, often through spatial, temporal, or social distancing. This suggests that rather than focusing on exchange or reciprocity as analytical categories, attention should be given to how practices are organised to manage obligations, asymmetries, and social relations.

The exchange-not-charity framing is not a description of what Brīvbode is but a normative achievement – a claim about who belongs and on what terms, actively maintained against pressure from resellers, heavy-takers, and charity-seekers, and held together by a moral vocabulary of equality and reciprocity.

The explicit positioning of Brīvbode as an exchange site rather than charity is a normative claim about who belongs and on what terms. The norm that you bring something or at least contribute is part of what defines participation in the practice rather than use of a service.

“Man liekas, tā apmaiņa ir ļoti tāds godīgs darbības veids savā ziņā. Tas pieprasa atbildību no abiem. Jo daudziem mēs vienkārši sakām, mēs neesam labdarības iestāde. Tas nav tā, ka tu atnāc un tagad pieprasi, ka tev vajag tīras bikses. Tas nav tā, ka tu atnāc ar sarkano krustu un tagad pieprasi, ka tev vajag tīras bikses. Nu, tā kā mums senāk Lastādijā, kas ir pieraduši, "O, jūs esat palīdzības punkts, man vajag šito." Nu, nē, mēs neesam palīdzības punkts, te ir apmaiņas punkts. Vispār jums ir kaut kas līdzi maiņai? Pirms jūs sākat te uzstādīt noteikumus. Irai te ļoti labi sanāk ar visiem viņiem to norunāt. Mēs neesam, ejiet uz Sarkano krustu, ejiet uz citām vietām, kas ir tieši kā labdarības iestāde. Mēs neesam palīdzības iestāde. (Alise)

Brīvbode is located in an area with Gaiziņš night shelter necessitates this positioning work.

Jana: "Man liekas, ka, ja tas ir tikai punkts, kurā tu vari paņemt tikai tāpēc, ka tev vajag, nu, ka tas ir tikai tavs basic punkts, tad jau arī Sarkanais Krusts izsniedz bezmaksas apģērbus." – Jana articulating what makes Brīvbode different from charity: the heterogeneous public, the exchange principle, the social dimension.

Un man liekas, arī tas dod to vienlīdzības sajūtu, kad apmaiņai nāk gan turīgs, gan nabags, gan vecs, gan jauns, ka visi zina, ka tā ir uz apmaiņu, ka tu esi līdzvērtīgs, nav nevienam atlaides, neviens nav īpašāks.

Linards: "Well, on the other hand, yes, a person perhaps needs to donate something for the thing so they feel more of a sense of responsibility." Tad es domāju tīri par labdarības aspektu ir tā, ka, nu, mums nāk tas sociālais kontingents, kuram dot apģērbu ir tas pats, kas izmest viņu ārā, jo viņš viņu pēc trim vai četrām dienām novalkātu izmetīs ārā, jo viņi jau nemazgā un... Viņi tik ņem un maina. Ir tāds, tāds cilvēku sociālais kontingents, bomži, sauksim viņus tā.

No single motivation would recruit enough carriers – it is the combination that makes the volume possible. What looks like a single practice of "taking from Brīvbode" is based on a variety of meanings found in the practice: access and dignity (Valentīna), style experimentation (Zane R., Jana), craft materials (Marta), social visiting (pensioners, Baiba), logistics efficiency and responsibility (Līga). The heterogeneity sustains the flow.

Valentīna: "Well, in the beginning it was very good here. There were so many clothes... You can't even find things like that in a shop." And others wonder – where did she get that, what is she getting? Did she buy it or what? She came to Brīvbode and that's it. They don't understand that you can find all of it in Brīvbode." The pleasure of the secret source – others cannot tell the difference. The competency dimension of freeshopping: knowing where to look, knowing when to come, having access to a source others do not know about or use.

"I dressed like an absolute princess." Brīvbode enabled a form of self-presentation that her economic situation otherwise would not allow. The freeshop as enabling dignity and even luxury for someone with limited means.

Jana: "I've always had nicknames, I was the 'thrift shop princess' (humpalu princese – I.L.). I've always really disliked it when I'm wearing something and someone else is wearing exactly the same thing." The desire for uniqueness as a driver of secondhand acquisition. This is a meanings dimension that is neither based on sustainability nor thrift but something closer to aesthetic autonomy. Being a textile artist, Jana also has a sewing competency that works as an extension of the same desire – making her own as the ultimate guarantee of uniqueness: the competency of sewing is sustained by the meaning of distinctiveness.

Brīvbode also enables Jana's daily performance of festivity and pleasure. The glitter dress as everyday wear is only possible because Brīvbode provides a low-stakes supply chain – you can wear something spectacular without the commitment of having paid for it.

One practitioner also described "What gives me joy is that I can create different characters from those clothes. For example, yesterday I went to my first cross-dresser date with this beautiful purple wig." "I got these size 43 court shoes... And that somehow, well, challenged me to put them to use." The freeshop is a space of low-stakes experimentation: you can try things without commitment, without cost, and without judgment in the context of Lastādija's queer-friendly environment.

Queer and punk market – Alise ir atlasījusi tieši šim tirdziņam – ļoti atbilstošas, stilīgas lietas – melnas, gotiskas, pancīgas drēbes. Arī zābaki un ādas jakas utt. Pienāk Peksis un paķer ādas jaku, laimīgs, saka, ka naudu kādu dienu ienesīšot. Nepalieku uz ilgu laiku (ap 40 min), bet sanāk arī citi apskatītāji – viens kvīrs runā par savu cross dressing pieredzi vai trans pieredzi. Mēra garu smalka adījuma jaku ar gotisku kapuci – un ir sajūsmā. Jautā, vai 15 eiro par to un vēl kādu apģērba gabalu pietiks utt.

Zane R.: "An interesting thing that I think is cool is that you can try out different styles for free. I took a jacket that style-wise would probably be called a bomber jacket. And I would never have bought one myself. I have some kind of resistance toward what is street style." The jacket became one of her most-worn items. Brīvbode enabled a style experiment that she would not have risked financially. The absence of price removes or lowers the threshold for commitment that normally accompanies clothing acquisition.

"I found an old, cut mosquito net, which I use as a base for embroidery." Something that appeared to be rubbish was valuable to Marta as a material. This is an extreme version of the right-owner logic – the object finds not just a user but a user who recognizes a value in it that is entirely invisible to others.

"How did I start making those rugs? Because, walking through thrift shops, I had accumulated so many clothes that I started thinking about how to use them without throwing them out." The accumulation problem as a creative catalyst. Marta's craft practice grew out of having too many secondhand clothes and rather than discarding it, she invented a use for the surplus. The surplus generated one practice (rug-making) that gave the surplus a use, material accumulation as the origin of a new practice.

Marta's craftsperson's gaze: objects as potential materials rather than finished things. "When I see an item, I see it not just as a finished garment, but also, for example, as a material – fabric, beads, zippers." This is a specific competency that distinguishes her participation from others and allows her to see components where most participants see a garment. This extends the object biography – the dress has a life as a dress, but it also has a potential life as threads, beads, lining fabric.

The stigma of second hand acquisition exists alongside the meanings of pleasure. Some participants hinted at it subtly in conversation, but denied it when asked. Valentīna is the only one who explicitly named the stigma associated with freecycling, and this cuts against any simple narrative of freecycling as normalized practice for people of all walks. While actively and regularly using Brīvbode and also praising the things acquired as high quality and aesthetically pleasing (“I dressed like an absolute princess”), nevertheless, she also compares taking from Brīvbode to going through someone else’s trash, taking from the waste containers. Especially when a TV crew came to Brīvbode and a journalist approached her for a couple of words, she flat refused “I will not let them see that I've fallen so low as to come to Brīvbode."

For some participants the meaning of freeshopping includes shame. "She doesn't go to Brīvbode, she can't bring herself to. Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh... But I'm common, simply common. I'll go, and I'll get what I need." Valentīna accepts the class distinction label "prasta" and reclaims it – she is practical, she goes where she can get things.

Several participants mentioned using a strategy of withholding information about the origin of things, especially when giving gifts and passing things acquired in Brīvbode to other people. Jana: "Grandmothers also come and say: 'I don't tell my daughter where I got that jacket, because she wouldn't take it.' Marta: "Grandma still says: 'Shh, don't tell anyone, say it was expensive.'" These meanings were held by older people, however, often people mentioned the contrast of their acquisition practices with some others who avoid anything second hand.

Marta noted the changing meaning and normalization of secondhand acquisition in recent years – and observed the shift within her own family. Changing meanings are shifting the practice’s recruitability. Marta about family members: "'Why are you wearing dead people's clothes?' or 'How can you even wear someone else's rubbish… In recent years not so much anymore... since it's become much more popular." The normalization. Similarly, there is a strong folk theory of second hand clothing and things coming mainly in bulk from recently deceased people. As such, things are said to hold energy of the deceased person – a strong trope mentioned by many. Some participants adjusted this meaning to their practice – Ita: "Purely theoretically, let's say a person puts it on, and if that energy, let's say, suits the particular new owner, then they don't feel discomfort." Similarly, Linards using this spiritual language slightly laughingly claims that “we can transform it, we have here a purgatory of things”. Brīvbode has the ability to transform the aura of previous owners, so Brīvbode can function as a “purgatory of things” in their biographies. Linards: “Others say that things there have some kind of energy, or the aura of previous owners, maybe… We’re able to transform that… In a way, it’s also like a kind of purgatory for things.”

Agate is the clearest example of generational normalization of secondhand consumption. She also called them “thrift shops”, using the English term. Her sustainability framing is explicit: she wants to avoid fast fashion, avoid microtrends, give clothes a second life. She uses the language of ecological responsibility and global collective action. She is not naive about the limits of individual action – she notes the contradiction between recycling carefully and celebrities flying private jets – but she maintains the practice regardless.

She attributes the meaning her parents hold towards second hand acquisition to “soviet mentality” – they ask whether things are from a shop, they categorize thrift shops as automatically inferior regardless of the item's appearance. Her classmates, by contrast, have normalized secondhand acquisition and are actively looking for thrift shop options for graduation dresses.

Laura L.: "Man liekas, ka mana visneekoloģiskākā rīcība manā ikdienas dzīvē ir tekstils." She identifies textile consumption as her most environmentally problematic behavior, and she knows it. But knowing does not resolve it – she continues to accumulate. This is the knowing-doing gap that practice theory is designed to address: values do not directly translate into behavior because behavior is organized by practice, not by individual choice. She estimates she buys an item of clothing every month and frames this as more than she used to in adolescence. The normalization of monthly clothing acquisition is itself a product of how practices have changed – the availability of cheap secondhand has arguably made acquisition easier and more frequent for someone like Laura, not less.

Linards: “Daudzi jau arī neaizdomājas. Viņi domā, ka mēs esam kaut kāda Rīgas dome vai sociālais dienests vai whatever. Varbūt mums pašiem vairāk... Nu jā, mums bieži jautā, vai mēs esam labdarība. Tādā ziņā mēs neesam labdarība, manā izpratnē. Mūsu mērķis nav darīt labu, man tā šķiet, cilvēkiem. Mūsu mērķis ir darīt labu planētai. Jo labdarība vienmēr saistās ar kaut kādu tādu trūkumu un nabadzību. Man vairāk liekas, ka mums vajag to fun'a faktoru uzsvērt, to jautrības faktoru – mainīties, pārģērbties, whatever. Ka tas ir forši, ka tas ir fanīgi, ka tas ir līksmi.” – freeshopping as a form of play and pleasure rather than responsibility. This is Linards articulating what the practice should offer its carriers to recruit and retain them. The fun, playful dimension is a meaning that sustains his participation and that he thinks should be made more central.

"Many don't even think about it. They think we're some kind of Riga City Council or social service or whatever... Our goal is not to do good for people, I think. Our goal is to do good for the planet… Charity is always related to the meaning of poverty. I think that we need to emphasize the fun factor, the joy factor – swapping, changing clothes, whatever. That it's cool, that it's fun, that it's joyful."

After discussing the framing of Brīvbode not as a charity, I ask Linards if he sees working in Brīvbode as helping the visitors or helping a cause (after discussing that it’s not a charity): “Man liekas, tas tagad tik dabiski, es to vairs tā pat nevērtēju. Tas jau citiem jāvērtē ir. Tā ir vienkārši lieta, ko es daru, neiedziļinoties viņas filozofiskajā nozīmē.” The practice has become sufficiently routinized for him that it no longer requires justification or much rumination about the meanings of it. "Tas ir palicis laikam kaut kādā ziņā nedaudz otršķirīgi. Pārējais ir tik intensīvi..." Alise says the environmental/sustainability dimension has become secondary to the social and operational dimensions. Jautāju viņai, vai Brīvbodi viņa uztver arī vides aspektā – Alise atbild, ka sociālais šķiet vieglāk īstenojams nekā vides aspekts

Agate represents the explicit end of the spectrum – the participant for whom environmental meaning is primary rather than peripheral. Placing her alongside Linards (environmental meaning is abstract and secondary) and Sandra (environmental meaning is implicit in an objection to waste)..

At times I enquired whether environmental values are something people adhere to.

The chapter demonstrated the plurality of meanings sustains the flows…

The persisting tension – the sustainability framing is partial and unevenly held.

The next chapter will reveal on what labour the flows described in this chapter depend upon.

Jana: "Reserved, H&M, Sinsay... they arrive with tags still on. You understand that you bought two identical shirts in a hurry, and actually neither of them suits you." Fast fashion arriving at Brīvbode with tags still attached. This is the pressure valve observation from a volunteer's perspective – Brīvbode absorbs the overflow of impulsive purchases that were never really wanted.

Is the stuff “given” // givenness of stuff in Brīvbode similar to givenness of waste in Pyyhtinen, Lehtonen (2023).

Managing overflow – the relation with textile waste infrastructure – the freeshop could not operate if Brīvbode had to pay for waste themselves. Storage – collaboration with other organisations. "The emptier the shelves, the more people find." (Different views of aesthetics).

Marta: "Man, staigājot pa humpalām, bija sakrājies tik daudz apģērbu."

In Shove's framework, meanings include the values and shared understandings that make a practice intelligible. Practices also have normative meanings that shape what participation looks like: there are right ways of performing practices. The framing of Brīvbode as different from charity, the question about reseller participation, the reciprocity expectations, the curation standards – these are all instances of participants negotiating what counts as correct participation in the practice of freecycling in Brīvbode.

For some visitors the process of finding things is strategic and purposeful; for others it is opportunistic. Why secondhand acquisition is pleasurable and meaningful in ways that retail is not – the serendipity, the sense of things finding their right home, the pleasure of assembling a coherent aesthetic from dispersed sources.

What looks like a single practice – "taking from Brīvbode" – is actually several quite different practices sustained by very different meanings: access and dignity (Valentīna's princess), style experimentation and uniqueness (Jana, Zane R.), craft materials (Marta), social visiting (the pensioners, Baiba), logistics efficiency (Līga). The competency element varies too – experienced browsers navigate the space very differently from first-timers. The heterogeneity of motivations is precisely what sustains the volume of the outgoing flow: no single meaning would recruit enough carriers.

Marta: "I really, really, really love just walking, browsing, exploring... I love that you never know what you'll come across, and that is the magic." The most enthusiastic statement of secondhand acquisition as pleasure and process. The search and the possibility of encounter as values. "Other people go to museums, I like to walk around... not just to buy something, but also to find inspiration." "I start from the first room and then slowly go to the end, then I come back when there's already something new."

In contrast, Sandra: Sandra's fatalism is analytically significant. It is a specific temporal and dispositional orientation toward the practice – she does not bring deliberate choice to the encounter but trusts the encounter itself.

Both are competencies, differently developed. Sandra's orientation means the practice demands relatively little conscious cognitive work from her – it has become genuinely routine. The meaning Sandra attaches to secondhand acquisition – that objects find their right owner, that there is something fateful in the encounter – is one of the meanings that sustains her participation in secondhand practices more broadly.

Marta: "Ja es nevaru izlemt – iegādāties vai paņemt vai ne, tad ir ļoti vienkārši. Ja es neesmu pārliecināta, tātad man nevajag." A clean decision rule that Marta has developed explicitly. Practical wisdom, an embodied heuristic that simplifies a complex decision. Brīvbode has changed Marta's relationship to uncertainty about her own things – where before she hoarded because she might need something, now she releases because she knows someone else probably needs it more. The existence of the infrastructure changes the decision logic. This is a direct empirical instance of how material infrastructure shapes practice.

“10.06. Intervēju Janu Āgenskalna tirgū. Pirms tam mazliet īsi pastaigājos apkārt – apskatu augļu cenas (dārgi), meklējot tualeti, aizeju arī līdz “Skandināvam” – tas šķiet tā skandināviski, ka tirgū ir lietoto preču veikals (tāpēc, ka Somijā tā bija lielveikalā). Skandināvā mani nekas īpaši neinteresē, šo to pacilāju. Bļodiņa, ko Ziemassvētku tirdziņā dabūju Brīvbodē, šeit maksā 9Eur, par ko pabrīnos. Šķiet, ka esmu jau pieradusi, ka lietām vajadzētu / var būt bez maksas. Tai pat laikā, tā jau ir daļa no kapitālisma lietu plūsmas.”

how participation changes your value regime, a meaning-level observation

“Freecyclers seem to gain pleasure through consumption in multiple ways: first, there is the pleasure of generously giving; second, there is the pleasure of ‘getting rid’ of stuff; third, there is the pleasure of receiving things for free; and fourth, there is the pleasure of being part of a community, of making friends through chatting online and (more occasionally) swapping items.” (Eden, 2017: 276)

“Some of these pleasures echo the values of traditional consumerism, but others challenge them or at least complicate the relationship between having, wanting and refusing. So, both consuming and de-consuming (disposing) are pleasurable, challenging the notion that being thrifty, ethically sound and green mean sacrifice rather than fun. This reflects Soper’s concept of ‘alternative hedonism’, where having less can itself be fun, even ‘a distinctively moral form of self-pleasuring or a self-interested form of altruism: that which takes pleasure in committing to a more socially accountable mode of consuming’ (Soper, 2007: 213).”

“Patrimonial pleasure” (pleasure and pride for providing for kids)

Stuck objects, the pressure-valve function Alise names directly, the stigma that prevents some potential participants from joining – these are all evidence that the sustainability framing is partial. Circulation is real but leaky, subsidized, and asymmetric. This is not a failure of Brīvbode – it is what Brīvbode actually is, and naming it honestly is more analytically interesting than the sustainability narrative alone.

The main structural gain of this version is that each section has a clear argument, not just description, and the connecting thread – how do these practices sustain each other, and at what cost – is visible throughout rather than only implied.

[Notes]

Meanings (values and ideas related to sharing possessions and sequential ownership, acquiring used items, getting rid of things – voluntary divestment). Materialities – wider waste infrastructure, Brīvbode premises and interior, the items circulated. Also, what the physical infrastructure influences – Brīvbode as a social site (does not appear that way for everyone, but e.g. exchange networks are strong for many participants).

practice of divestment – meanings (social capital of being a giver, sustaining and recreating identity by ridding oneself from unwanted things), there is hope that someone “in need” would take the thing.

practice of acquisition – meanings (novelty, experimentation, fun, creativity) and materials

Social site – regulars, temporal rhythm of visiting, hanging out, waiting for stuff to arrive, suggested exchanges.

Higher responsibility – divestment route. Volunteers getting stuff as compensation for their work?

Jana: "Sister, do you think the shirt you're wearing hasn't already been worn by 10 girls before? Well, in the fitting room." Jana's counter-argument to the stigma: the fitting room is already secondhand contact. This rhetorical move dilutes the clear distinction between new and used.

Divestment from households is not a spontaneous act but a managed practice with its own rhythms, competencies, and costs — cognitive, temporal, and emotional — that are mostly borne by women and mostly invisible.

BATCHING. "It's been like this for me: a bag accumulates, when it's full, I take it in." The system of batching: things accumulate in a bag at home until it is full, then the bag goes to Brīvbode. This is the most common divestment rhythm – to accumulate, then release in batches.

"On Thursday I take two [bags], then on Friday two more." For larger quantities Līga splits across days – two bags on Thursday, another two on Friday. This is logistics management under a self-imposed constraint: she will not ask for help or hire transport, so she works within the limits of what she can carry alone.

Several participants noted a structure of divestment routes based on the perceived value of items: the most valuable things are sold (often online on Andele Mandele or now Vinted),

Agnese has specific routing logic for different kinds of objects (Brīvbode for bulk children's things, Otrā Elpa for potentially valuable items, Andele for things that can be sold, H&M container for worn-out textiles).

Zane R.: "I assess how valuable the item is. Well, if it's valuable, I try to sell it first... Then, if that doesn't work, I tend to put things in the 'Free yourself from things Riga' group... and then if, for example, I've assessed that the item isn't worth selling... then I take it, yes, to Brīvbode." "The risk I see both in Otrā Elpa and Brīvbode, and in donating things generally, is that it's not clear whether on the other side there will be the person who needs this."

Zane has an explicit and systematic routing hierarchy: sell first (Andele, Facebook), give via direct request in a freecycling group, Brīvbode for things that don't merit the effort of selling. The routing logic is both practical and moral: she prefers direct person-to-person transfer over anonymous donation because she can see that a specific person wanted the specific thing. Brīvbode is a reliable fallback for volume – when she has several boxes of things and cannot manage individual listings for each.

Other – swapping events and routing to kindergarten.

Laura L. The two-tier wardrobe: stable items she has invested in, and additional items that circulate in and out. Different garments occupy different positions within the practice of dressing – some are durable elements, others are passing. The freeshop is a more a mechanism for the circulating tier, less for the stable one.

Sandra describes her divestment practice as rather “chaotic” – no regular sorting, things accumulate and are brought when she gets around to it. This is the typical pattern for participants without strong sufficiency orientations.

valuation work – and on optimal quality of these things –

Women sort, men transport.

People send things via parcel machines or taxis.

Brīvbode is not a craft practice or a domestic routine where embodied skill is the most visible element. Freeshopping does not require years of training to enact. A lot of the skills are “soft” – social and evaluative, such as knowing how to handle quality, when to put things out on the shelves and when to hold them back, how to redirect a donor without causing offense, handling social situations, creating a welcoming atmosphere, decision-making. The competency element is real but it is mostly social and evaluative rather than physical: knowing how to navigate the space, read quality, judge what to take and what to leave, manage the implicit norms of exchange. These are competencies but they are harder to see than, say, the skill of a carpenter or a cook. Is this why consumption work is underrecognized in practice theory?

Linards: "Nu, fak, skaties, nu, kur lai liek. Mēģināt sasistematizēt sieviešu apģērbu. Tas ir kā koks ar daudziem zariem." Competency acquisition narrated explicitly – Linards describes the process of developing a taxonomy, getting confused, discovering that function matters more than type.

"Tas filtrs man ir." Alise's curation work – knowing who needs what, holding things for specific people, routing objects to their right destinations – is described simply as a filter. The filter, knowing who needs what, holding things for specific people – this is competency in Shove's sense. "Jo katrai lietai var būt īpašnieks, viņš tikai kaut kādā pareizā kontekstā ir jāparāda tev." Curation as the skill of contextualizing objects – finding the right frame, the right audience, the right moment for each thing. This is valuable labor that the freeshop depends on but that visitors never see.

Intuitive: Jana: "I really know it won't be good just from not having opened the bag yet. And I say: 'Is everything really okay in there?' 'Yes, yes, only the best, only the best!' And you open it, and you understand — there are moth-eaten pillows, piss-soaked blankets." The gap between donor's self-assessment and actual quality is a recurring labor burden for volunteers. Jana's trained intuition is a specific competency developed over years.

Normative learning in action. Marta is developing the practical norms of freeshopping participation – what counts as appropriate taking – through participation and observation. Marta: “Pati pirmā reize man bija ļoti mulsinoša... Es biju izpildījusi mājasdarbu, es biju salikusi maisiņu, un es tiešām centos pēc savas minimālās saprašanas par šo vietu salasīt kaut ko, kas varētu būt tiešām tāds noderīgs un pietiekami daudzpusīgs. Bet tāpat mani nepameta tā sajūta, ka es esmu tā kā apzagusies, vai kāds neskatās. Nu, tā muļķīgi tagad tā teikt, bet tas koncepts ir tik ļoti tāds nepierasts, un man arī tā sirdsapziņa neļautu vienkārši ienākt, paņemt, aiziet, un es arī cenšos vienmēr atnest kaut ko. Un nevis uztvert, ka kaut kas par brīvu. Es to vārdu "brīvu" kaut kā izslēdzu. Es to uztveru kā apmaiņu. To, kas man, to es nolieku, un…” Marta narrates the process of learning to understand freeness as exchange, learning what counts as appropriate taking, developing the decision heuristic.

Agate articulated her acquisition strategy in detail: she tries to plan her visits to Brīvbode at the end of each season when she has sorted her wardrobe and identified gaps. She has mapped the visitor typology and knows that older women have different tastes, which means she can pick through their discards without competition: "Es atnācu ātrāk, jo es zināju, ka būs veci cilvēki, un es zinu, ka viņiem neinteresē tas pats, kas man." She arrives early to avoid competition from peers. Agate also avoids coming with friends who share her taste: "Es cenšos nenākt ar draudzenēm." This is sophisticated resource management – she knows that the supply of things matching her specific aesthetic is limited and that competition from similar-minded peers would reduce her chances of finding what she wants.

Brīvbode is sustained by volunteers whose participation is only possible because their own lives are organized around sufficiency — flexible time, low monetary consumption, willingness to absorb institutional costs personally — and whose labor includes not just physical work but the ongoing interpretive effort of finding meaning in conditions that frequently threaten to erode it.

Ar vienu kundzi jautājam Alisei par jauno krāsni – tā ir palaista un rūc. Uzzinām, ka Alise ar Krišjāni paši visu sametinājuši. Kundze sākumā jautā, vai viņiem pašiem ir firma vai kas? Uzzinājusi, ka šis vienkārši vienā eksemplārā, kundze saka, ka trūkst vārdu, respect un vispār neiedomājami. Alise izstāsta, ka iekšpusē ir trīs gāzes baloni, rokturi no kaut kāda veca dīvāna atsperēm, vēl kāda detaļa no kaut kādas rensteles utt. Krāsns ir super. Rūc, jo tur ir ventilators. Alise saka: “Bet ko darīt, ja negribas maksāt 1000 Eur par krāsni? Jāņem pašiem rokā fleksis.” Man šķiet fenomenāli. Un skaists piemērs, kur satiekas laiks, vēlmes un zināšanas. Cienu Alisi.

repair competency, sufficiency orientation, collaborative volunteer labor, making do with what is available. Alise's "what do you do if you don't want to pay €1000 for a stove? You pick up the angle grinder yourself" is a direct statement of the sufficiency lifestyle as practical philosophy.

Pieņemsim, mēs ar Krišjānu uztaisījām ratus, ar ko vest no Viskaļu Brīvbodes mantas uz konteineru, kas ir patālu. Jo vienmēr nest ir riktīgi smagi, un, davai, uztaisām ratus. Nu, kaut kādas tādas lietas vai tagad arī, es gribu samainīt to izkārtojumu, un tad arī tur tā kā, o, šitais būtu foršāk, darām tā. Un tad mēs ar Krišjāni mājās tur domājam, kā tur varētu uztaisīt un kā būtu forši…

volunteer labor creating infrastructure for more volunteer labor.

​​"No visiem, kas strādā Brīvbodē, principā es nopelnu vismazāk. Jo es strādāju kopā ar Iru tajās ceturtdienās... Kamēr man vēl ir visi tie administratīvie un projektu vadības un visas atskaites un visa sekošana līdzi. Tas ir neapmaksāts darbs." Direct statement of the labor imbalance. Alise does the most administrative work and earns the least. "Tā ir atbildība, ko esmu uzņēmusies labprātīgi, bet ko es ar tādu godaprātu arī gribu iznest un noturēt... Esmu atbildīga tikai savā priekšā."

A portrait of the sufficiency lifestyle as a practice cluster in its own right, not just a background condition of volunteering.

Krišjānis arī ir uz vietas (vēlāk Alise stāsta, ka par Krišjāņa palīdzību Brīvbodes remontā apsolījusi nedēļu viņam iet palīgā slīpēt laivu).

Is it pearls before swines? The work of finding and recalibrating meaning. Alise: Motivācija jau mainās… Katrs jau cenšas atrast savu motivāciju.

“Ja tu strādā tikai tiem cilvēkiem, kas iet tālāk, pārdod, un beigās viņi ir vienīgie, kas uz tā visa nopelna un tu velti savu brīvo laiku, tad pazūd tā motivācija. Tāpēc katrs mēģina atrast sevī interpretēt vai samierināt. Jo katram ir savi motīvi, sava latiņa, pie kuras visi viņi sāk besīt, vai kas spēj iepriecināt, sadusmot. Bet katrs cenšas ar sevi…”

Nē, nu, tur nāk visi tie bomžiki. Nu, tiešām tādi labi iereibuši dažreiz vai pohaini kungi un tamlīdzīgi. Un tās pašas dāmas katru reizi tā kā, kad viņas nāk jau katru dienu, tu jau skaties uz viņām jau drausmīgi, viņas tev iz... Jo, jo, jo dusmīgāk tu izskaties, jo viņa tev vairāk smaidīs, un tev vienkārši tā... "Tu speciāli to dari!" Tā kā, nu, es domāju, viņas arī saprot, ka mēs jau redzam viņas katru dienu Brīvbodē, tad mums jau arī sāk likties: "Kāpēc mēs to darām? Tā kā šo 10 cilvēku dēļ vai tomēr ar kaut kādu lielāku mērķi? Vai kādam vēl tas ir vajadzīgs bez šiem 10 cilvēkiem?" Jo dažreiz tā motivācija, nu, ko es no Linarda esmu bieži dzirdējusi vai arī no Ingūnas, man liekas, arī pa laikam... "Mēs nevaram dabūt vēl kaut kādus jaunus apmeklētājus, lūdzu? Varbūt mums vajag šiten pieteikties, varbūt mums vajag šiten aizbraukt, lai būtu jauni apmeklētāji. Man jau bišķiņ jau tā kā jau sēž tie regulārie." Jo viņi ir ļoti masīvi.

Tādā ziņā, ka tas apjoms ir masīvs, un tad tie daži, kas ir jaunie... Katru reizi jau ir arī tie jaunie, kas ir pirmo reizi vai retāk, viņi vienkārši tik ātri atnāk, atdod un pazūd. Ir kaut kāds mazāks tas kontakts.

The public node of Brīvbode is viable because a ring of household-embedded carriers absorbs logistics – and those carriers are overwhelmingly women who have not chosen this role so much as had it accrue to them through their existing embeddedness in the practice.

Several regular visitors do substantial divestment work not just for themselves but for neighbors, colleagues, family members, and strangers. The practice has extended outward from their own households and made them logistics nodes for others. They do not describe this as a choice; it is what happens when you are known as the person who goes.

"Mēs nevaram arī izmērīt, cik daudz cilvēku gūst labumu, jo tas nav tikai 1:1, kas atnāk." (from radio interview) – Brīvbode's social reach extends beyond the people who physically visit.

Several of the regular visitors described doing significant divestment work for other people. Ira rescues things from the street before the garbage collectors arrive. This is the moral weight of objects – things that have value should not be destroyed.

Valentīna: "Vienkārši visi zina, ka es eju uz to Brīvbodi, tad man kādreiz pilnīgi cilvēki no mājas saka... Kādreiz, nu, tā iedod." Like Ira, Valentīna has become a logistics node for her building – neighbors give her things to take because she goes. The labor of carrying others' divestment falls on those who are already most embedded in the practice. She does not describe this as a choice or a service; it is just what happens because she is known as the person who goes. This is consumption work that has become naturalized into her role. ​​The practice has become part of Valentīna's known social identity in her building. It recruits additional participation from neighbors who route their divestment through her. This is how practices expand their reach through existing social networks.

The practice of bringing things to Brīvbode has become a weekly routine organized around and through Ita. The practice has stabilized into a rhythm that recruits additional participation from neighbors. This is the temporal and social structure of practice in action.

"Es kādreiz arī pienāku pie viņiem vai kā." She also goes to neighbors to collect things – active divestment work on behalf of others who do not or will not come themselves. This mirrors Ira's pattern exactly, though at a smaller scale.

JANA: "Darba kolēģes sajūsmā. Viņas izmanto mani. Viņas sagatavo paciņas, kas man jānogādā uz Brīvbodi. Un tad viņas saka: 'Vai tu vari apskatīties kaut ko priekš viņām?'"

Austra also takes for her husband – finding larger sizes for him as his weight has changed – and occasionally for a grandchild or a distant relative with young children. The consumption work extends outward from her household to the family network.

LĪGA

"Es tur 30 reizes braukāju uz turieni." Līga helped relatives relocate and spent months coordinating the dispersal of their possessions – arranging Facebook pickups, allocating specific items to specific people who had expressed interest, making trip after trip. She explicitly acknowledges that a single call to a clearance firm would have resolved everything in one visit: "Ja būtu firma, viņi izmestu ārā vienāpiegājienā viss, un viss jau ir tīrs." She chose the harder route because she could not allow things to be discarded.

This is the most extreme example of consumption work as a self-imposed labor burden. The 30 trips are the direct cost of refusing the easy disposal option. “Dažkārt tiešām gribas izmest ārā, bet, nu, man tā iekšējā sajūta neļauj to darīt vienkārši.” The inner sense that prevents easy disposal. This phrase appears early and recurs throughout the interview as the motor of Līga's behavior. It functions as a powerful constraint on how she manages material excess. An embodied orientation that shapes action without being consciously derived from principles.

ITA

"Kaimiņi arī ir sapratuši... gandrīz sanāk katru nedēļu." "Vai arī mēs pa ceļam kaut kur sarunājam satikties un tad viņi nodod, tā teikt, savu nesamo." Ita has built an elaborate neighbor logistics network: at least five neighbors regularly give her things. She coordinates pickups, meets neighbors on the way, takes requests for specific items. This is consumption work that has become a near-weekly routine organized entirely around Brīvbode. The neighbors outsource to Ita because she is willing and organized.

"Ir tikai viens cilvēks, kas atsaucās un teica, ka viņš grib zināt adresi... bet pārējie saka, 'Nu, nē, tas ir speciāli jābrauc.'" Only one neighbor out of many actually goes themselves. The rest route their divestment through Ita. The barrier of special travel is real – but it also reveals how consumption work is delegated to those most embedded in the practice.

"Daži arī saka, ka viņiem savukārt derētu kaut kas tāds un tāds. Es saku, labi, paskatīšos."

The consumption work that sustains circulation in Brīvbode is not randomly distributed — in your corpus it is consistently organized through women's labor, from household sorting and routing to managing others' generosity to transmitting divestment competencies to the next generation.

Often their role is in transporting the divested household objects to Brīvbode, without extending their visits to look around the shop and engage further.

Jana: "Tas ir mans. Kā es smejos, es esmu tas, kas apgādā visus ar drēbēm un apaviem."

Explicit statement of gendered consumption work: Jana manages clothing acquisition for the whole household. She did this for her husband until he developed his own strong brand preferences. She does it for the children. This is Miller's moral agency in household consumption – stated with humor but quite direct.

Austra: "Jā, es to daru. Viņam būtu vienalga, viņš izmestu arī miskastē." She makes the divestment decisions, organizes what goes where, and carries things to Brīvbode. Her husband would discard without routing – she is the one who routes. She also asks his opinion on specific items from the household, but the initiative and the labor are hers.

The sorting asymmetry (two sentences): Jana sorting others' things easily and ruthlessly while her own require negotiation and deferral — "sorting others' things is easy; when it's your own, you start thinking that little bead might still be useful for something." This is attachment as a practical problem stated precisely, and it explains why divestment labor is cognitively demanding in a way that sorting someone else's possessions is not.

"Svešas lietas šķirot ir easy, ļoti viegli. Bet kad ir tavējās, tad ir tāds, 'Nē, nu, bet šitā pērlīte noderēs vēl tam un tam.' Tu zini, ka nenoderēs."

This is your most precise statement of why divestment is difficult – the asymmetry between evaluating others' things and your own. Jana can sort others' possessions quickly and ruthlessly; her own require negotiation, justification, deferral. This is attachment to objects stated as a practical problem rather than an emotional one.

"Man ir regulāri tā, ka es jau salieku kasti, jau projām viņu atdodu. Un nākamajā dienā ir zvans, un tieši vajag to, kas tajā kastē bija."

The divestment paradox – the moment you let go is the moment you discover you needed it. This is so consistent for Jana that she has stopped trying to resolve it and simply lets things stay. Analytically this is Evans's divestment process – the moment of decision is structurally unstable.

"Bērniem ir vecmāmiņa, kas dzīvo Londonā, viņa labu gribot sūta vienkārši milzu pakas ar dāvanām, un tur jau es nevaru izvēlēties, kas tur būs, tas tur būs. Un es reizēm daru tā, ka es atsaiņoju, paskatos, kas tur ir, un daļu noslēpju, pirms bērni vispār ierauga, jo nebūtu šeit vietas tam visam." Agnese cannot control what arrives, must intercept items before the children see them (and thus become attached), and must then route the surplus elsewhere. This is consumption work generated by others' giving – the labor of managing generosity that does not match the household's needs. The interception of gifts before children see them is a specific practical competency.

"Arī kāds nes, teiksim, sava bērna drēbes mums iedod, jo tas bērns ir lielāks un ir izaudzis, un klāt pieliek vēl tur kaut ko, nu tā kā bez prasīšanas." Unsolicited additions to gift transfers – people add extra items without being asked. The recipient bears the cost of routing the unwanted additions.

the decluttering industry is the commercialization of a problem generated by overconsumption, and Brīvbode sits in an ambiguous relationship to it — both absorbing the output of decluttering culture and potentially enabling it.

the invention of clutter and decluttering (the invention of the profession of organising consultants; minimalist aesthetics, decluttering).

Kā decluttering kā fenomens ir saistīts ar kapitālismu; kā šī estētika ir izplatījusies. Saistība ar consumption work un care work, labour at home – veidojot arī kārtošanas konsultanta profesiju, ceļot nodarbošanās statusu un prasot par to naudu, uzsverot to kā prasmi, kompetenci un zināšanas.

Linards: "Man patīk tie daži bloga posti, kur ir Brīvbodei arī, nu, kur var redzēt, ka tur, kur ir pieci veidi, kā tikt vaļā no mantām, un tur parasti ir arī Brīvbode. Ļoti labi."

“Pēc tam nākamnedēļ mums būs Panorāma ciemos. Cerams, ka arī vēl būs kādi jauni apmeklētāji un tamlīdzīgi. Nu, tas ir dažādi. Ka mēs radam tos viļņus. Un tad ir atkal kāds instagrameris pareklamējis,, ka ir jātīra māja un jānes viss projām. Tad mēs redzam - okei, šonedēļ bija jātīra virtuve, mēs redzam dakšiņu un krūzīšu pieplūdumu. (Ieva)” – Brīvbode as the material downstream of social media-driven decluttering (connects directly to the pressure-valve argument in Chapter 1)

"Parasti jā, bet ja es zinu, ka es gribu aiznest kaut ko, lai viņas pārāk nesabēdājas, tad es aizskrienu bez viņām."

"Bija gadījumi, kad mēs jau aiznesam un tad tas tiek likts viss pa plauktiem un kāda no meitenēm ierauga, ka viņa tomēr grib to lietu atpakaļ, tad ar asarām acīs un stiepj mājās atpakaļ."

Divestment with children is not just a logistical challenge but a pedagogical one. Agnese sometimes goes without the girls to avoid the tears; other times she takes them and uses the visit as an occasion to discuss why they are giving things away, what makes a good divestment decision, what is too worn to donate.

"Tā ir arī iespēja parunāties par lietām."

Brīvbode visits as moral education. The children learn about material quality, about when something is good enough to give versus good enough only to discard, about not taking things they already have or that are not suitable. This is practice transmission to the next generation happening explicitly and consciously.

consumption work is not just currently gendered, it is being transmitted along gendered lines.

Naming the forms and distribution of consumption work is the chapter's contribution. Circular consumption requires substantial labor; that labor is unevenly distributed; and the sustainability of initiatives like Brīvbode depends on a structural condition — the sufficiency-oriented, time-rich, mostly female volunteer and participant base.

Second, note the tension between habit and intention that the chapter title announces but the body never quite resolves: some of this work is unreflexive and habituated (Líga's inner sense that prevents easy disposal, Valentīna's building logistics naturalized into her role); some is deliberate and effortful (Marta working on her own impulse-acquiring, Agnese's category-by-category method). Both are labor, but they are differently visible — and the unreflexive forms are the hardest to see and the hardest for policy to reach.

People bring things in hope that hypothetical someone will absorb the excess. What it actually requires.

Consumption work as part of care work; the burdens and joys of care and responsibility (repair, thoughtful donation).

Consumption work gives the tools to describe the attentive, relational, morally loaded dimensions that practice theory tends to flatten. These frameworks are in tension but the tension is productive – it reflects a real tension in the practice itself, between what people do without thinking and what they do with considerable intentional effort. Divestment work involves both registers, often in the same person and sometimes in the same act.

Transactions of consumption work: “Alise saka, ka darbs Brīvbodē dažreiz ļauj viņai nejusties vainīgai par to, ka viņa nesašķiro atkritumus.”

circular consumption requires substantial labour; (naming them is the contribution)

consumption work is gendered and unevenly distributed; Women doing divestment labour for neighbours – Absorbed sustainability labour.

the labour that sustains circulation in Brīvbode – distributed across volunteers and participants – and how it’s gendered, how the site makes labour visible.

There’s the issue of disposal – things don’t fit, things accumulate, they need to be rejected. It’s sometimes shameful. Sometimes you want it to go away (they are too visible).

The things are made visible by being put in the shop. It makes it visible that there is a bunch of stuff. There is no “away” to throw your things.

Alise's curation requires knowing the regular visitors, their situations, their needs.

For volunteers: sufficiency lifestyle – low monetary consumption, small combined streams of income, flexibility in time. Various family situations that enable participation. Alise: "Man ir izdevīgāk strādāt mazāk un vairāk veltīt laiku tam, lai es varu plānot maltītes, plānot kaut kādus pirkumus, domāt un meklēt par pirkumiem vai aizbraukt biežāk varbūt uz to 'second hand' un tur paskatīties vai sagaidīt, kamēr es atrodu to, ko man vajag."

"My task is to sort and put out children's things — there are several bags. There's already a lot in the boxes — piles are forming. At one point I asked Alise: 'Don't you feel like the things are just pouring down on you?' Alise: 'Yes, that's why I no longer have any tolerance for things.'"

"Alise: I understand that I feel relief that these children's clothes are dirty, because there simply isn't any more space."

(Lifestyles of Enough) “Finally, the meanings attached to sufficiency-oriented consumption practices go way beyond altruistic motives like environmental concern. As a study by Kropfeld et al. (2018) showed, environmentally concerned consumers (with more altruistic motives) have a higher environmental impact than voluntary simplifiers (with more self-related motives). Personal or egocentric motives, therefore, can lead to sufficiency-oriented behavior, as the example for sharing services from this review showed. This is in line with Sandberg’s (2021) findings on sufficiency practices related to miscellaneous consumption, as she connects a reduction of consumption of various products (incl. clothing) to anti-consumption lifestyles such as voluntary simplicity or frugality.

Quiet sustainability – sustainable practices without added sustainability meaning.

what matters in sustainability? e.g. people gather egg cartons because it is easy, but issues that are more impactful and require more resources are more difficult to enact.

Several participants in this study trace their orientations toward thrift and reuse to generational experience of the scarcity of the early post-Soviet period, or to upbringings in which resources were used carefully as a matter of practical necessity rather than environmental commitment.

The “activists” are part of the visitors, yet a large part do not frame their participation in Brīvbode primarily in environmental terms: they come because they have things to give away, because they sometimes find things they need. Their practices have sustainable dimensions that they do not necessarily name or claim.

This framing does not require flattening the diversity of participant orientations. Some visitors do articulate explicit sustainability motivations – concerns about fast fashion, about waste, about the environmental costs of overconsumption. The thesis holds both the quiet and the articulated dimensions without forcing them into a single category, and treats the tension between them as empirically interesting rather than theoretically problematic. One question that remains open is whether explicit articulation makes sustainable practices more effective at retaining practitioners – more resistant to disruption when material or social conditions change. This is beyond the scope of the present study but worth noting as a direction for future research.

Ita: "Mammai to lietu nebija daudz, un tās lietas tika visas, nu, ļoti labi uzturētas. Bet tad, kad jau parādījās tie humāno preču veikali, tad savukārt bija otrā drusku galējība."

For some Brīvbode and such places are clearly ways to get rid of stuff in order to fulfill an ideal of a decluttered home. To get rid of stuff that doesn't align with the style of their home etc. Get rid of stuff in order to make other decisions about buying other things.

“Such stores are often overlooked, yet they play a crucial role in individual and urban sustainability efforts. They are spaces of incidental sustainability that do not loudly advertise their work, but quietly help thrifters pursue more ecological lifestyles and help cities divert huge quantities of materials from landfills and incinerators. Thrift stores’ labor connects thrifters to activities and networks of often similarly hidden sustainability efforts by ordinary people across the world. Theoretically, I engage the role of thrift stores in alternative economies that contribute to more ecologically and socially sustainable lifeworlds and futures.” (Kuppinger, 2023)

How volunteer labor is compensated through non-monetary reciprocity – the whole operation runs on informal exchange rather than wages.

how volunteer-run circular economy initiatives work

“Šodien mums mega atlaides. Tieši ceturtdienās un piektdienās.”

But there is also something about the non-monetary exchange that activates a different kind of valuation. Price normally functions as a threshold for taking; when price is removed, another threshold – moral and relational – takes its place. This is a direct empirical observation about how the value regime of Brīvbode differs from retail.

"Man kaut kā mazāka vēlme ņemt visu, ko es redzu, par spīti tam, ka tas it kā ir tas 'brīv'... es kaut kā vairāk cienu to visu, kas tur ir izlikts."

Marta explicitly contrasts her response to freeness with others' – she imagines the hoarder who grabs because it's free, and positions herself as someone for whom freeness activates restraint rather than acquisition. This is the moral economy of freeshopping from the perspective of someone still in the early stages of learning the practice's norms.

"Kādam varbūt tas 'brīv' rada vēlme, ka viss ir bez maksas, tagad ņemam, ņemam, ņemam. Man tas nospēlē kaut kā tieši otrādāk." "Es to uztveru kā apmaiņu. To vārdu 'brīvu' kaut kā izslēdzu... Sākumā tas tā bišķiņ mulsināja, ka esmu kā apzagusies."

This is competency acquisition: Marta is learning how to understand and inhabit the value regime of Brīvbode, and she narrates the process explicitly. Connect to Shove on how competencies include the interpretive frameworks that make a practice intelligible.

"Mantas, tas ir maksa par moju rabotu." – what the practice of volunteering at Brīvbode offers its carriers, access to goods as a form of non-monetary compensation – how the practice recruits and retains participants like Ira.

Ira is simultaneously the most dedicated volunteer and the most disruptive presence…

Kāda sieviete, kas laikam Linardam pazīstama. Saka: internetveikals atgriež naudu, bet raksta, lai nopirktās drēbes atdod labdarībai.

[No Singapūras pētījuma] Campbell-Johnston et al.’s (2020) argument that an item’s sequential (re)use is not a given. Rather, (re)use is underpinned by relational labour bound up in what Hobson (2020) calls social circularities.

Not unlike systems thinking that undergirds a circular logic, we have shown that ‘energy’ (i.e. volunteer, re-lational labour) as well as material inputs (i.e. things for recirculating, an available/accessible venue) are required for sustaining free(cycling) markets, and that this can only be accomplished as a community.

Freecycling markets may be environmentally sustainable but not-so-sustainable with respect to the space, time and labour needed to run them in Singapore. Such a disjuncture illuminates the significance of contextualising sustainable materialist movements in its spatio-material and socio-cultural context. While material inputs in terms of reusable things are readily available, suitable spaces, unpaid volunteer labour and community networks necessary to organise and sustain such markets are in short supply.

Brīvbode as a non-monetary node is sustained by #ACTIVE NORMATIVE WORK

​​The Alise row #KN9KRP and the Linards row #RYPVBT are the foundational pair: charity-vs-exchange and charity-vs-fun are the two managers’ framings, both anti-charity but in different directions. Visitor uptake (#5DGGDB Marta, #2PYRSF Ira, #SWZX3T fieldnote) shows the norm propagating; #ZXWFUR / #FS5Z73 / #PCX3EQ show its policing.

The non-domestic node is CONTINUOUS WITH DOMESTIC WORK and depends on a ring of household-embedded carriers: Ita, Valentīna, Ira, Līga, Agnese. The clearest empirical pattern is that the cost of being a public node is privatised back into individual women’s logistics labour (Ita rows 922–923, Valentīna row 911, Līga row 1375, Agnese row 1339). This is not a side effect — it is what makes the public node viable.

Brīvbode is a node where private divestment becomes briefly visible and socially acknowledged

The node is non-domestic but the work that sustains it is continuous with domestic consumption work

The clearest empirical demonstration is the divestment-network: consumption work ordinarily inside households is delegated outward to embedded carriers (Ita, Valentīna, Marta, Līga) who in effect privatise the logistics of the public node.

The competencies required for participation in Brīvbode: e.g. skills in identifying value in used items (e.g., repair potential, quality);

Emotional work: letting go of items, managing desires and impulses;

Care networks (taking for others, bringing from others), reciprocity, and informal exchanges;

The labour of divestment in households, the work of sustaining the freeshop, what the practice demands from its carriers. Skills that people must develop in order to be successful at freecycling: assessment of what might still be useful / usable? What is appropriate?

Kersty Hobson on consumption work in the circular economy – the activities, skills, and labor (cognitive, emotional, temporal resources) involved in acquiring, managing, and disposing of goods in a sustainable way.

Women as moral agents in consumption (Miller)

It is often empirically observed that in domestic context women regulate what comes in the house (e.g. Reno, e.g. Miller) Reno: Wife – the one who decides what consumable commodities may enter their home from the outside and how. (barriers to scavenging)

Care as social work: fostering responsibility and trust within the Brīvbode community; examples of breaking trust – giving unusable things; taking or giving too much.

Consumption work / social norms & competencies – ko nest, ko nest ir vēlams, ko nevēlams, kas ir vērtīgs.