It didn’t start in a warehouse. Or a store. Or even a garage.
It started on the floor of my one-bedroom apartment, surrounded by cardboard boxes, shipping tape, and a tiny kitchen scale I borrowed from my wife. I had just opened my first liquidation box—and I was equally excited and terrified.
Inside? A mix of random electronics, a curling iron with no cord, four “As Seen on TV” belts, and a Bluetooth speaker with packaging in Spanish. I had no idea what I was doing. But I also knew I wasn’t going back to my 9–5. Not if I could help it.
That was three years ago. Since then, I’ve resold everything from baby strollers to ski pants, phone chargers to fancy dress shoes. I’ve lost money. I’ve made money. And along the way, I picked up some truths that don’t get shared on TikTok or those flashy “$50K in 30 Days” YouTube videos.
Let me walk you through what really works, what’s overhyped, and what I wish someone told me sooner.
The first time I bought a liquidation lot, I clicked the “Buy” button like I was ordering takeout. I thought it was just a box of random products waiting to make me rich.
It’s not. Not even close.
Reselling requires strategy, research, and sometimes intuition. When I source now, I ask myself these questions:
You learn to read the psychology of a return.
Sometimes it’s sizing—especially with clothing. Other times it’s regret. Or buyer’s remorse. But sometimes, it’s just shady.
I once opened a “new” coffee machine from a return box only to find… a used toaster stuffed inside. Another time, I got a brand new pair of sneakers—only one of them was real. The other? A knockoff.
That’s why I always assume:
It keeps me sane.
One category that’s both a blessing and a curse? Private label.
You’ll see tons of these in Amazon returns or liquidation pallets. Brands you’ve never heard of with names like “Zygorix Pro” or “LavaStretch Activewear.” Sometimes they’re well-made. Sometimes they’re disasters.
I’ve learned to test every item personally. If the quality is good and the product is useful, I list it locally. Buyers on Facebook Marketplace care less about brand names and more about price and condition.
But online? Unless you can match exact listings and packaging, don’t risk it on Amazon. You’ll either get dinged by the algorithm or worse—banned.
You don’t want to sell only high-end stuff—it’s risky. A broken $300 item is a $300 loss. But you also don’t want to swim in a sea of $5 items where shipping eats your margins alive.
What’s worked for me? Products that retail for $25–$70.
They move quickly, have enough margin to justify shipping, and the return/refund drama is low.
Some of my best categories:
No one talks about this enough.
When you’re swimming in inventory, your biggest enemy isn’t returns—it’s clutter. And clutter is expensive.
I started with inventory stacked in my living room. Then my closet. Then under the bed. Eventually, I had to rent a $65/month storage unit. That’s when I realized: holding items comes with cost.
Now I ask:
If the answer is no, I pass—no matter how “cheap” it seems.
Anyone can list an item. But to sell it? That’s presentation.
I clean every item. Repack if needed. Take fresh photos. Write honest but optimized descriptions. I often include little extras—like a thank-you sticker or tissue paper in clothing items. It adds less than 50 cents per sale but brings in more 5-star feedback than any ad spend ever could.
This builds trust, which turns into repeat buyers, referrals, and better reviews—especially on eBay and Mercari.
I’ve bought $500 pallets where I only recovered $220.
I’ve listed items with the wrong specs and dealt with angry buyers.
I’ve shipped fragile goods without enough padding. (Rookie move.)
But all of it taught me something valuable:
If you do those three things consistently, you’ll do just fine.
Every item I sell gives me a little more time freedom.
Time with my kids. Time to cook with my wife. Time to choose how I spend my day.
That’s the real profit in reselling. It’s not just about flipping stuff—it’s about building a life where your hours aren’t owned by anyone else.
If you’re just starting, remember: don’t rush. Don’t copy everyone. And don’t chase trends. Build something steady. Learn from every box you open.
And most of all? Enjoy the chaos. It’s all part of the hustle.