I accidentally turned Facebook Marketplace into a fullblown ecommerce operation

I’ve always had a bit of an aversion to second-hand things; I think it’s because they come with an energy I can’t seem to shake. Mostly I buy new, and if someone wants to give me something second-hand, I think… I’m a grown-up; I can buy it myself.

But then, all of a sudden, I have a storage unit full of things in really good condition, costing me $750 a month. For things that I bought for a different time, a different place – specifically in colours and tones that would make my old studio apartment pop. Then I fell in love, and two became three, and it was time to find a bigger place. All those things? They dutifully came with us. Did the blonde Scandi wood look a little odd with the deep 90s walnut tones? Absolutely, but there are many things you’re willing to overlook for love – including mismatched furniture.

As long-time readers know, we were abruptly ejected from our rental just over a year ago, and we temporarily moved in with the in-laws. So we threw all those ‘things’ into storage, knowing it wouldn’t be long before we saw it again.

Except things changed.

I lost my job while going through IVF, and decided that perhaps unemployment, fertility treatment and figuring out where to live was enough excitement for one year. I took some time out, reduced the stress and focused on getting pregnant.

It worked.

It turns out multi-generational living works really well for all involved, and we’ve decided to make it semi-permanent until I finish maternity leave, when we’ll buy our own place.

Which is roughly 18 months.

Eighteen months × $750 = $13,500.

To store furniture. Furniture that might not even work in the home we eventually buy.

What’s a girl to do?

Not Gumtree. Once a vibrant oasis of second-hand trade, it is now a graveyard of weirdos and time-wasters.

Sadly, Facebook Marketplace is where it’s at.

It was time to dust off the account abandoned in 2018, one that has forever locked me in as a vibrant early 30s singleton with a zest for life and a tiny waistline, who was living the high life in a Byron Bay mansion when a previous eccentric boss directed the company to move in together.

Life takes wonderful twists and turns, after all.

However, I intend for this Facebook liaison to be brief. Very brief. And very necessary. As I try to persuade strangers to buy my second-hand goods, fully imprinted with my weird energy.

I’ve worked in Tech for a long time, and a large chunk of that has been ecommerce, working for some pretty amazing online fashion brands as well as general goods. I’ve learnt a thing or two about running and marketing an ecommerce store.

And given I never do anything by halves, things escalated rather quickly.

A campaign with a brand identity

A fully branded Storage Unit Clearance Sale. Products shot in the aisle of the storage unit: cement floors, orange roller doors, under the fluorescent lighting, with green exit signs in the background. Industrial chic. I’m pretty much a full-blown Art Director now.

With common taglines across listings like ‘Everything must go storage unit clearance sale. Check out my other listing for more bargains.’ I had one guy buy a green mop, bucket, broom set AND a fruit bowl from a separate listing. Cross-selling. Pushing up the average basket size.

Take inspiration from ecommerce sites

All the items, photographed from multiple angles showing the whole profile from each side, the decorative or unique features, and any general wear and tear. I know, from experience, that the more photos a product has, the more likely it is to sell because photos help make an online item feel tangible. Five is generally a good amount, but seven really sells it.

Give your listing description a little personality if you’re in the mood for fun. Remember you’re trying to build trust in a weird kinda anonymous online space.

The second-hand goods market is generally low-trust, and it’s important to be as transparent as possible with any wear and tear so people can make an informed decision.

Free equals time wasters

A bedside table that had seen much better days, grubby from makeup and scratched in more places than a scratching post, I couldn’t possibly charge money for it. And boy did this come back to bite me. The enquiries came flooding in: ‘Hi, is this still available?’

No, ‘Hi, Bella’. Just an impersonal, robot-generated message.

I offered it to the first person. Crickets.

How long am I supposed to wait for a reply? What’s the etiquette here?

I diligently let everyone know their place in the queue, which started feeling like insanity for a product generating $0 in revenue. The number of people who ‘almost’ picked it up, but didn’t follow through surprised me big time.

Eventually, I just decided it would go to the first person who could collect it, and that’s the message I communicated.

All of a sudden, replies started getting faster. And I moved it the same day.

Wait a minute, have I just found a strategy that works?

I tried it on the items with a price tag, and sure enough, things were moving the same day. This is magically efficient.

List for half the retail price for a fast sale

Aside from that ratty bedside table, my items are in really good condition. Otherwise, why would I pay to store them? I also want them to move, and I had decided they were a sunk cost years ago. So I priced them to sell. And sell they did very, very quickly!

I’d visit the storage unit, photograph, write the listing and then publish.

A RANARP lamp from IKEA, RRP $59.99, sold for $30.

For unusual things, though, make sure you don’t go too low. You’ll be surprised what people value. A vintage rooster decorative weathervane picked up from a Tasmanian antique store in the early 2000s, priced at $150, was snapped up within minutes of the listing being approved. I couldn’t believe it. What initially felt too high very quickly felt too low.

Decide if you’re willing to negotiate

One buyer was happy to pay $50 for a double set of shelves, only to try to haggle the night before.

Excuse me.

When people try to negotiate, I tell them I’m firm on price because it’s already priced to sell. Most people respect this and then collect the item for the listing price. Simple.

The porch honesty system

This hot tip came from my mother-in-law. Just pop it on the porch, and people can come and collect it when they’re ready. Ask them to pop the money in the letterbox. What appealed to me is the low-friction, high-trust model. It’s like a nod to human decency, and I’m here for it. I write a little sentimental note to the person, which also reminds them how to pay. I snap a photo and upload it to the chat so they know exactly what they're looking for and that it's ready to collect.

Two ways to pay

Cash is great, but let’s be honest: who has cash these days? What if the ATM is out of service on the way here? Either way, I offer two ways to pay. Cashola in the letterbox or PayID. PayID scams have understandably made people wary, so I never pressure anyone to use it. It's simply another option if they don't have cash. Low pressure, low friction.

Be cautious and check out the buyer’s profile

Be a little savvy when you’re directing people to your house. I have one extra rule: before I give someone my address, I have a quick look at their profile. A brand-new account with no history makes me more cautious, and I usually let them know I’m in talks with someone else. Honestly, I think this is why Facebook Marketplace works so well: you can usually get a sense of the human being on the other side.

My own profile may incorrectly suggest I'm still a tiny-waisted thirty-something living in a Byron Bay mansion, but at least there's nearly twenty years of evidence that I exist – mostly drunken photos with friends. It’s hard to fake nearly twenty years of platform-endorsed identity, initially uploaded from a proper digital camera attached to a desktop computer with a cord, while hungover and waiting 45 minutes for the album to upload.

And just like that

My old life is disappearing from the storage unit one Marketplace notification at a time.

The lamp went to the guy that hit on me.
The rooster went to a mother of the bride from Bathurst.
The lantern went to a young bride-to-be.
The mop, bucket, broom and inexplicable fruit bowl went home together.
The Magic Mouse disappeared, and a block of chocolate appeared in its place.

Apparently I don't mind second-hand things carrying weird energy after all. As long as it’s mine and someone else is taking it.