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.