I was the oldest kid, and larger than the brother who’s 14 months younger than me, so the only hand-me-down clothes I ever got were from my mom’s cousin. Years later, when we lived with my grandfather in wealthy town (he’d bought his house a generation earlier when it was merely upper middle class), my much younger baby brother wanted to give a pair of jeans that he’d outgrown to a friend of his. Not sure how my mom talked him out of it, but as the kid’s dad had just given $7 million dollars to his alma mater, the kid wasn’t hurting for clothing.
Edited to add:
We moved in with my widowed grandfather when he was getting too old/infirm to care for the house/yard on his own. Damn, just realized I’m now almost exactly the age that he was when we moved there.
Unrelated, but it reminds me of some friend's kids who for one of their friend's birthdays, they were going to get him an iPhone--- like, what the hell? They didn't have jobs.
Reality bites.