A Cabinet of Curiosities—The Thrift Store at St. Luke’s

By Isis O’Flynn-Shahaf

Elana Steinberg, Andrew Forell and volunteer Susan Whitney at St. Luke’s thrift store. Photos by Isis O’Flynn-Shahaf .

Connected to the St. Luke’s Cathedral at 487 Hudson Street is an underground thrift store, or as store manager Elana Steinberg puts it, “a cabinet of curiosities.” Just a few concrete steps downstairs and you are transported into a world of antiques, vintage clothing pieces, a variety of books, collections of vinyl, glass, silver and china dining sets, and memories of the past. Originally an old parish house, this magical shop has been transformed into the home of the beloved belongings of the West Village community.

Perusing the store feels like you are Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Time stops for a while as 70s classic rock plays softly in the background. From sorting through hats older than the vinyls to finding cast-iron shoe forms perched on the windowsill, every few steps leads to a unique discovery. Some items are not for sale, including Socksy, the store’s woven-wood guard dog who wears diva sunglasses and a new hat for every season.

Run by Elana Steinberg and her husband Andrew Forell, with the support of a few volunteers, St. Luke’s holds a very special place in the heart of the community.

Socksy, the guard dog, sits at the front of the store to greet customers. Her hat for the season is an orange, bedazzled turban.

A sanctuary for the art of thrifting, St. Luke’s values the preservation of history, passing on stories, and capturing a person’s life through their clothing and belongings. Steinberg has the opportunity to step into the world of hundreds of strangers every day. “What they choose to hold close and collect really describes a lot about who they are, what their experiences are, and what’s important to them,” she said. She once received a hand-sewn prom dress from a woman who had collected her mother’s designs from the 60s. “It is so cool, it’s like so mod’…her mom sewed all of that and sewed it with love,” Steinberg said. That piece was eventually sold to a young girl who was attending her first high school prom.

Filled with hundreds of fascinating items, Steinberg ensures that their stories are cherished and never lost through transaction. She explained, “We get the most unusual things that are jarring and incredibly beautiful, and they describe life. And whenever somebody drops something off, I always ask them…what do I need to know about it? Because people want to know the story. And if I have enough room on the tag, I’ll write the story.” This is one of the many reasons why people keep coming back here. There is dinner with a show through an object and its often intricate backstory, “…people love that feeling of connection through an inanimate object…it existed before all of us did.”

Having the opportunity to chat with Steinberg and learn about the roots of the items you are purchasing is what makes St. Luke’s stand out from other thrift stores. You come in with the intention of buying something vintage, and leave with a new perspective on the beauty of thrifting all together.

As I walked around the store with Steinberg, we came upon a very small portrait hanging on the wall of an older woman with large pearls draped on her neck, a cream sweater, cat-eye glasses, a perm, and a mischievous smirk on her face. “The amount of people who have tried to buy her have no idea who she is. I don’t even know her name. They family didn’t know her name. But she’s kind of the patron saint of the store,” said Steinberg,

Some donations have become part of the thrift store and will never be up for sale. This collection makes St. Luke’s a museum of lives over the centuries.

A small portrait of the unknown woman hangs by the back window. Her history is unknown, but she is famous to St. Luke’s shoppers and staff.

There is no shortage of donations consisting of “bags, bags, bags, and bags.” Steinberg will spend days, weeks, and months sorting through the plethora of gifts from the community. She chooses pieces based on their condition and the season. The majority of the drop-offs are from people moving out of their homes, either from the younger crowd who try out New York and leave, or from the elderly population transitioning to assisted living. Parting with trinkets and items that represent someone’s entire life and hold sentimental value is never easy, but St. Luke’s is the place where people feel safe leaving their lives behind. “We go through each and every one of them,” said Steinberg. “For me, everything has value, not in a monetary way, but in terms of experience. Because once that person goes, that story goes too. So what remains is part of their life, in an object, you know?” The best part of Steinberg’s job is collecting bits and pieces of a person’s life and eventually giving those items a new one.

The shop gives all of the proceeds, as well as some clothing, to outreach programs run by the church. Community Closet, which happens every Saturday, was established for people experiencing poverty, homelessness, and food insecurity. The program opened to families once a larger population of asylum seekers began showing up in need of assistance. The Art and Acceptance program supports LGBTQ+ members living with AIDS. It also serves as a safe space that provides food and free legal advice for marginalized LGBTQ+ youth.

Steinberg said, “It’s a real outreach which, in a difficult world, is more and more important to prioritize. The church, thrift store, and outreach programs give more than bible study sessions, clothes, and food. It’s also a safe place for a lot of people. This includes older people who meet their friends and just kind of sit and chat for a while.”

It is obvious from speaking to Steinberg that her team is a cohort of generous people passionate about helping others, and St. Luke’s feels like their second home.

As a local business that has been around for decades, St. Luke’s is sacred to the West Village. Make sure to stop by this cabinet of curiosities for an experience of the past, a better understanding of your neighbors, or a hand-made dress from the 60s that you can wear to your next dinner party.