An industry that thrives off the fortunes, love affairs, diets, deaths, and divorces of Upper East Side ladies might not seem an obvious last-minute holiday shopping solution. But the scores of high-end consignment shops scattered about Manhattan are a gold mine of discount luxuries perfect for gift-giving. Previously owned, after all, doesn’t necessarily mean “used” – if the designer castoffs up for sale don’t have the tags still attached (and many do), they’ve often been used so sparingly that they might as well be new.

I was drawn to Kavanagh’s (146 E. 49th St., 212-702-0152) by its collection of previously owned J. Mendel furs and Hermes bags – a tricolor Kelly is $3,000, at least $1,000 less than its retail price; a black Birkin is $6,000, a savings of several thousand dollars – in the hopes of finding more affordable treasures, such as a pleated Hermes scarf or Chanel belt, for my mother-in-law. Sure enough, clustered in the shop’s corners, “like rabbits,” as the store’s owner, Mary Kavanagh, aptly put it, were suede Prada pumps, Blahniks, and Chanel ballets, all in gently worn condition and at about $190 a pair, one-third the retail cost. Then a pair of Christian Louboutin black leather heels caught my eye. “Let’s face it, shopping for gifts is an excuse to shop for yourself,” said Ms. Kavanagh, verbalizing what I’d been trying to avoid admitting to myself all morning. The danger of buying gifts resale – unlike retail – is that you can’t justify not shopping for yourself. Resale thrives on fast turnover, one-of-a-kind finds, and luck – you can’t afford to turn down that perfect Chanel suit.

“I would stick to the purses, belts, and scarves if you are buying a gift, though,” said Ms. Kavanagh, bringing me back to the task at hand. It was good advice, given that the clothing and accessories are nonreturnable, and the sizes can be inexact, since many of the items have been altered by their previous owners.

My next stop was Ritz Furs (107 W. 57th St., 212-265-4559), the Midtown institution that has been consigning furs for the past 60 years, and is the largest used fur emporium in the world, or so they claim. “We’ve got mink, sable, fox, beaver, lynx, raccoon, Persian lamb, and shearling in coats, boas, hats, muffs, headbands, gloves, scarves, and even bikinis,” said Keith Tauber, one owner of the family-run business. If you buy a fur at Ritz, they’ll make any necessary alterations and remove the previous interior monogram, replacing it with your girlfriend’s or mother’s (or your own) – a nice old-fashioned touch to any gift.

In the main salon, Julie Harper was buying two previously owned coats for a few thousand dollars – a sheared beaver with a fox collar and a full-length mink, both Christmas presents from her husband – to wear to the opera in southern California, where she resides. “You just don’t care if the furs are previously owned. They sell for ridiculously low prices here,” she said, echoing the sentiments of resale shoppers generally. Hilary James was there to buy her third mink. “I don’t care if it’s used – often the workmanship is so much better than today’s coats, and nobody can tell it’s ‘used.’ It also costs tens of thousands of dollars less.” Ms. James also buys clothing at Designer Resale, “but not pants – I’m a little old-fashioned that way,” she said.

With that in mind, I headed up to 81st Street, the “gold coast of resale,” as one shop-owner called it, and the perfect place for resale first-timers to start. It is well off that other, more intimidating resale strip running down Madison Avenue from 79th to 85th Street – so far, in fact, that here you might spy a well-coiffed lady climb out of her chauffeured car and walk into a place like Designer Resale with a Glad bag containing a de la Renta party dress for your sister or double “C” Chanel earrings for your aunt.

Designer Resale (324 E. 81st St., 212-734-3639) is a veritable consignment beast, occupying a half-block of brownstone basements and neatly packed with everything from Dana Buchman silk tanks ($15) to Escada short-sleeved red sweaters ($75), Marc Jacobs tuxedo pants ($150), black Miyake pleated dresses ($250), Chanel pant suits ($575), and Vuitton handbags ($400). I also found two beautiful Hermes bracelets ($400 each, including the original coveted orange box). A green and brown sleeveless tweed Prada dress was priced at $250. For the leather-lover, a small, hot pink Chanel purse (with a blue ink stain, removable, I was assured) was $395, and a tasteful black leather Ruffo bustier was $85.

The adjacent men’s shop revealed Hermes ties ($45-$95) – only two left as of Monday morning – and a rust-colored Prada cashmere sweater with buttons down the left shoulder, for sale at an astonishing $125. Gucci, Versace, Polo, Zegna – it’s all here. Before you charge away, however, be mindful that all sales are final here as well.

Unlike Kavanagh’s, Designer Resale consignments are coming in by the trunk load at the moment. “The ladies want to raise the money now, before the holidays,” one clerk said. The idea isn’t a bad one. For 50% of the sell price, Designer Resale will showcase quality cast-off items for 90 days. Every 30-day cycle, the price gets knocked down – first 20% and then another 30% – as indicated by the color-coded tags (pink means 20% off, peach 50% off). Unlike the hit-or-miss charity thrift shops on Third Avenue (such as Spence-Chapin, Sloan-Kettering, Arthritis, and Cancer Care, which carry a vast array of furniture, bric-a-brac, and clothing, from Champion to Yves Saint-Laurent), they won’t accept anything but gently worn, flawless, or new clothing.

With your Designer Resale training complete, cross Third Avenue and enter Tamara’s Pret-A-Reporter (235 E. 81st St., 212-717-2691) the most upscale and, hence, low-key resale boutique in the city. “We get women pulling up in their Bentleys, shipments delivered from Houston and Bal Harbor, and pick-up appointments at the Ritz Towers,” said Mary Blinn, a clerk. The merchandise is in keeping with the pedigree: a custom Fendi reversible sable coat is selling for $8,500 (a steal even by Ritz standards); a Lana Marks red crocodile purse for $1,250. At a lower price point, a classic Hermes black “H” belt is $195, a new Patricia Underwood black wool beret goes for $55 – both make ideal gifts.

A Tamara’s trick to keep in mind for a later, post-holiday shopping date, is to locate your “twin,” the repeat donor whose size matches your own. Every tag is coded with a series of numbers and letters, and, in time, you can figure out who your “twin” is and request advance notice in case of deaccessioning – a terrific tip considering “about 30% of the merchandise is brand-new, with the tags still on,” Ms. Blinn said.

If the thought of contributing to a wealthy consignor’s pocket change gets you down – even if it means a Chanel suit for you – cross the street and go directly into Out of the Closet (220 E. 81st St., 212-472-3573), an AIDS charity thrift shop occupying an old stable that boasts 10,000 volumes of books, rare art, and antiques as well as men’s clothing. Here, you needn’t feel bad picking up a few Christmas gifts for yourself. Edward Maloney, a founder, pointed out a few stand-out gift ideas, all appraised by volunteer art-professionals: a collection of 19th-century brass inkwells ($425-$645); frames dating from the mid-1800s for $495 and $750; cups and saucers, strays from elaborate place settings, all $30-$60 a pop. “It’s best to come in blank,” Mr. Maloney said, “so that you can be struck by what we offer.” Referring to his shop as an “Ali Baba’s cave,” he said, “the ladies who run the other shops can’t take this clutter.” No matter. To veteran resale shoppers it’s pure delight, where fast turnover, one-of-a-kind finds, luck, and occasionally, charity collide.