Fast Fashion Diet: The beginning
I love clothes. I love how what we wear can be an expression of ourselves and our place in time; how we can communicate and send messages through pieces of fabric; and how clothes and style define iconic moments in pop culture and history.
When I say “safety pin dress” - you immediately think of Liz Hurley in that timeless Versace affair. Rachel Green is not just a fictional character, but to millennial women (and many gay men) she’s a style icon for her chic take on girl-next-door meets NYC fashionista. Oh and also, her hair. And the Spice Girls caricatured themselves and societal assumptions through their style, as a generation of wide-eyed young women watched on. Those young women now recreate the iconic five-piece personas for Halloween and freshers’ parties to this day. Iconic.
I though, am not an iconic pop star nor femme fatale of 90’s lore, but a moderately successful advertising lady, whose eyes have only recently been opened to how intrinsically connected our actions are to the bigger picture. The simple act of wearing a mask can save multiple lives, and curb the spread of a virus through our homes and communities. Enough virus for this piece.
What I’ve realized over the last year (and I’m late to the game on this), is that the most critical piece in the puzzle of humanity is the big, beautiful planet that we call home. And it’s not in a good place right now. A few headlines to help put this into perspective:
According to the WMO State of Global Climate report for 2020 (here)
2020 was one of the warmest years on record
The last decade, 2011-2020 was the hottest on record
And NASA says that Ocean Acidification (more on this here) has risen by about 30% since the beginning of the industrial revolution due to increased carbon dioxide emissions
Why is this bad?
Warming does not distribute evenly (see that WMO report) - hotter Arctic surfaces wreak havoc with ecosystems, leading to rising sea levels
Rising temperatures cause increasingly frequent extreme weather events - that’s things like fires, flooding, storms, which damage ecosystems, infrastructure, ruin homes and business and even kill people
Acidic oceans put pressure on flora and fauna down there; destroying coral reef is just one example of the chaos wreaked (more here)
This information didn’t come to me overnight. I knew climate change was a problem, but I didn’t understand much of the how and why except that air travel is bad and recycling is good. As I opened my eyes further and considered lifestyle changes to minimize and mitigate my impact, I consumed more mindful and eco-conscious content. “Fast fashion” and its perils were now in front of me daily, and I was practically constructing drywall to ignore the elephant in the room: My Consumption Habits.
Everywhere I looked, it appeared that the simplest thing I could do to help our planet was LESS. Buy fewer things, have less waste. Such a simple starting point.
Simply reducing my purchasing cadence would result in less waste and less chain reaction; one less person contributing to the 1 garbage truck per second of clothes burned in landfills (Ellen MacArthur Foundation); one less person mindlessly engaging with the poor operating standards in the textiles industry where harsh chemicals that harm people and environments are commonplace, and workers are oftentimes paid below the living wage and work in appalling conditions.
Spiritually, less also appears to be more. Countless philosophies of the happiest, most content people on earth lean on the principle that being happy with what one has is a far more gratifying way to live than constantly searching for the next cash register high. Even Marie Kondo and her minimalist friends simply urge us to only have and hold things that truly bring us joy.
Only holding things that bring you joy. Doesn’t that sound utopic?
At this point, I was beginning to think I had a problem: A climate-impact problem fueled by the instant gratification of shopping (let’s address my travel habits in another post). And an inner peace that would never find equilibrium if I didn’t curb the constant urge to purchase.
And if I was serious about this, I had another habit that needed to be curtailed: Amazon.
At the click of a button, I ordered derma rollers, pens, notebooks, lamps, face masks, and everything else you can imagine with little thought for how badly I needed it, or whether it could be purchased locally instead. My biggest concern was that my Prime membership covered the shipping, and how quickly could it get here.
The overarching theme I came back to was thoughtlessness. My purchase momentum was a rolling stone, with no pause to think about the necessity or longevity of my target.
To truly give you some perspective, I’m going to lay it all on the table as best I can.
In 2020, I spent approximately:
$1,090 on Amazon - I spent ~6 months outside of the US in 2020, so this works out to ~$182/month for the months that I was in NYC
$6,000 on clothes. I want to be clear - I don’t have the type of income that means that I can do this. And yet… it happened. I’ll also disclose that this is not an exact calculation - I used my banking reports and some advanced searching through my online banking to get to this number, but embarrassingly, it feels about right. Some specifics:
$350 - ZARA
$247 - ASOS
$256 - Free People
$256 - Anthropologie
$820 - Schutz.com (that one stings)
To really twist the knife: most of this was bought online. So add a carbon tax for shipping/transport as well as all the extra packaging that comes with online purchases.
My path to enlightenment, or something like that, and a more meaningful way of consuming became clear: I would go on a fast fashion diet. Ideally a break-up, but those are hard. So let’s start with a break and see how it goes.
The parameters:
No to fast fashion - not even socks - for 2021
To be safe, I’ll add specifics for repeat offenders: No ZARA, Primark, Schutz, Free People, Anthropologie
No Amazon purchases for the entire year of 2021
Yes to vintage and slow fashion
Yes to brands who commit to sustainability, diversity and inclusion, and ethical labor practices
Full disclosure on factories and suppliers
Fair-wage essential
Yes to locally owned, female-first, small businesses
Yes to pieces I LOVE - classics, well made with longevity in mind
There’s no strict outcome or measurable result, other than the inner peace of knowing I’m slowly reducing my personal toll on climate change. My hope is that this will be the first in series of movements to mindfulness for me; Spending more time and thought on the things and people that I love, and doing so in a way that helps our planet and its people.
I’ll discover new brands, who create with respect for the environment, animals, and humans. And selfishly, if all goes well, my planetary endeavor will free me of FOMO; allowing me to find happiness in what is already mine and joy in sharing my progress on this journey.
I don’t hope for perfection. This isn’t mission-zero for me or The Year of Less, but a conscious decision towards a state of living that holds more regard for the world around me, while still finding pleasure in fashion and style.
And lastly, it’s a challenge, with purpose. Although successful and enjoying my career, I crave creativity and flexibility. Can documenting my journey not only hold me accountable but provide the creative outlet I’ve been seeking?
Let’s see X