Long before The Thick n Thrift ever existed, Cierra Giesbrecht was a kid sitting in a classroom, quietly taking inventory of the space around her.
“I remember always being like, ‘Am I the biggest kid in the class?’” she recalled. “And often, I was.”
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It wasn’t just a passing thought. Giesbrecht said it was a constant awareness that followed her through her childhood in classrooms, hallways and change rooms.
“There (were) times where I felt uncomfortable in a desk, because it didn’t have a moveable chair,” she said. “Times where I would really stress out when we had to go pick up a jersey for gym, because there was only a couple that were big enough. When you are in a larger body, it’s just a constant worry and predicting of like, ‘What am I not going to fit?’”
Those moments stacked up over time, and somewhere in between them, an idea began to take shape. Not fully formed, not yet a business plan, but a persistent thought. What would it look like to walk into a space and not have to think about any of that?
Years later, Giesbrecht built that space.

Giesbrecht said change rooms can be an intimidating place for plus-size shoppers. She’s looking forward to watching customers leave this her change rooms with smiles on their faces. (Babe Cave Studio/Submitted)
Tucked inside Drinkle Mall — a historic downtown building filled with small, local shops — her store sits among artists, vintage sellers and independent businesses. It’s the kind of place where people go looking for something a little different.
Inside The Thick n Thrift, the question that once followed her — “What am I not going to fit?” — doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s no longer the starting point.
Here, it shifts to something more comfortable: “What do I want to try on today?”
“Shopping second hand is really hard for people living in larger bodies, because the sections are so limited,” Giesbrecht explained..
Giesbrecht explained that in most thrift stores, plus-size options are sparse, inconsistent and often easy to miss. The experience becomes less about browsing and more about hoping something works. She said she designed a store that removes that uncertainty.
Here, the plus-size section isn’t separate. It is the store. Every rack is built for shoppers who are used to being an afterthought.
“We’re looking at sizes 12 and up, focusing more so primarily on that 2X to 4X,” Giesbrecht said. “But to be honest, my heart really lies with that four-plus section. It’s so hard to find clothing.”
The lack of options in extended sizes informs everything in the store, from the pieces Giesbrecht brings in to the ones she puts front and centre.
“I want you to feel that you can find those really cool pieces here. Those stand-out, loud pieces.”
That’s the kind of thing, she said, that people with larger bodies have often been discouraged from wearing.
“You will find all those pieces here, because you absolutely can wear those pieces,” Giesbrecht said.
There’s a practical side to the mission, too.
“The actual fat tax is insane,” Giesbrecht said, pointing out that brands often charge more for plus-size clothing, even when the cost to make it is the same. For people already navigating limited options, she said those added costs matter.
“I was a single mom for a long time. I still wanted to look cute, but I couldn’t spend $90 on a jacket,” she said.
At its core, Giesbrecht said, the store is about access — not just access to clothing, but to the experience around it.
“I don’t think there’s anything quite like going in and trying it on,” she said. “The shopping experience, that’s such a cultural thing.”

Here, the plus-size section isn’t separate. It’s the whole store. Every rack is built with intention for shoppers who are used to being an afterthought. (Submitted)
For many, that experience hasn’t always felt available. Giesbrecht said that’s what makes the dressing room here matter.
“I can’t wait to see people come out of the dressing room with pure excitement on their face of wearing the dress they’ve always wanted to,” she said. “I’m so excited to hype people up and be like, ‘No, you can wear this.’”
The store reflects that same approach — bold, visible and intentionally different.
“It’s loud. It’s exciting. It’s all the things that people think plus-size people shouldn’t be,” she said. “Honestly, I’ve been calling it a fat fest.”
For Giesbrecht, the store is a response to years of navigating spaces that didn’t quite work, and an attempt to build one that does.
“I feel like young me would be really proud of where we’ve come,” she said with a smile.










