A Different Perspective
An individual’s take on the slow fashion initiative.
We have deluded ourselves into believing the myth that capitalism grew and prospered out of the Protestant ethic of hard work and sacrifices. Capitalism was built on the exploitation of black slaves and continues to thrive on the exploitation of the poor, both black and white, both here and abroad.
Martin Luther King Jr.
There are innumerable reasons to comprise my commitment to slow fashion. I could enumerate each with passion and ardency, willing others to adopt sustainable practices. Yet none can be articulated more effectively than through the fine words of Martin Luther King Jr. Because regardless of the moral arrangement of my reasoning, or fervour of my speech, the irrepressible reality remains: slavery and suffering preserves contemporary existence. To extrapolate from that basic truth, I would discuss the garment industry.
Two years ago I opened my preferred news app to read of utter devastation. The Rana Plaza factory had collapsed, and with it the lives of over 1000 people. Reading through the recounts and threats of withholding wages preceding the tragedy, I was bewildered. The cruelty of the situation was incomprehensible and the voices of the victims harrowing. For that brief moment of international consciousness, questions were raised as to the working conditions of the garment workers, while major clothing companies were held to account for entrusting their supply chains to such manufacturers. But then the focus shifted – a helicopter crash or a politician’s latest gaff. The devastation wrought on the lives of thousands of families grew lost in the news cycle. Primark made a statement, assuming the media’s lashing and promising improvement. The public moved on. Except I could not. I felt devoid and disconnected from the hoards of clothing to surround me in my comfortable home. Because I suddenly knew the price for that materialism. Embedded in every seam and stitch of clothing forged in foreign lands, was the agony of another human being. A human no more worthy of deprivation than me.
From then on, I began to look at all my stuff in a different way. As an avid follower of fashion blogs, I considered the morality of our consumer-driven culture. Each week countless bloggers update their sites with the latest addition to their wardrobes. Each item is bought or received from a myriad of designers to engender a consumer mindset in their readers. This then culminates in the purchasing of these products from the conveniently linked stores at the end of every post. From my perspective, fashion bloggers stand at the very shiny and glamorous end-point of the garment industry. Yet they entirely dictate the narrative of what style and fashion should mean to us as individuals. Try as they might, large corporations cannot achieve equal traction as a single recommendation from the Nicole Warne or Chiara Ferragni‘s of the world. That is not to critique the brilliant and pioneering entrepreneurship of these women, but rather to state that the lifestyles they perpetuate are unattainable for the millions of followers they inspire. That is what we must consider if we are to be ethical consumers.
“And the truth is, we are rich because they are poor. We are rich because it costs us 10 Euros to buy a shirt at H&M. But somebody else has to starve for you to be able to buy it”
Sweatshop: Deadly Fashion (2014)
Documentaries like the ABC’s Four Corners, Fashion Victims (2013) and Norwegian production, Sweatshop: Deadly Fashion (2014) all spurred me further along the path of considered consumption. Because these textile workers are more often than not, young women. And who am I to stand for women’s rights while feigning brutal indifference to the suffering of others merely to accommodate my quest to be fashionable? I can no longer appreciate this aspect when cladding myself in fabric everyday. Clothing and self-expression should transcend ephemerality. How we choose to dress is the ultimate tool of individualism. Hence my commitment to op shopping and recycling old clothes through alteration (upcycling), as well as learning to respect and emotionally connect with my clothes.
This is what Jane Milburn – pioneer of the Textile Beat and lover of upcycling- argues from the perspective of agricultural science. I listened to her talk at The Planting, while madly writing notes and marveling equally at the unethical practices of fashion, and the global community of people who seek to reject it. Even in isolating the human cost, there is immense ecological value in buying quality clothing made with natural fibres. Rather than wasting money on flimsy synthetic pieces that last all of five cycles in the washing machine, we can invest in clothing to accompany us through life. Recent figures demonstrate that two thirds of clothing is now created from synthetic fibres (FAO, 2013) and approximately 92% of it is imported (Choice Magazine, 2014). Milburn writes: “Fast fashion, cheap clothes made in developing nations by people paid very low wages, is driving excessive consumption that is wasteful of resources and increasing waste” (Sew it Again, 2014). This is particularly relevant in relation to Dr Mark Browne’s research – which Milburn outlined during her talk – that found microplastic particles from our synthetic wardrobes are some of the largest polluters lining our shores (Dr Mark Brown et al, 2011).
My aim is not to have an indisputably faultless wardrobe, but more to care for my clothing so as to disengage from fast fashion. Accordingly, I am not professing my own perfection as a consumer, though rather the intention to do better. From my personal research in finding ethical and sustainable clothing manufacturers in Australia, it is an accessible industry for many of us. So too are items from op shops and vintage stores or reusing old clothes from family and friends. These options need to be promoted in the mainstream, because they are viable – both in price and logistics. There are many labels out there with pleasing aesthetics and transparent production chains. Because we each have a small part to play in the garment industry. In practical terms, we can subvert the necessity for legislative intervention or reform by simply ceasing our connection with that consumer cycle. It is always a matter of demand and price. Ask the question of where your clothes originate and wholeheartedly value them.
Twenty years ago, when I was young, I used to wish I could draw time… I like used clothes, things that are old and worn. It [August Sanders’ photographic portrait of interwar Germany] conveyed my ideal of clothing because people didn’t ‘consume’ these garments, they might spend their entire lives in them… that’s what life’s about. Real clothes, not fashion. What makes a coat truly beautiful is that you’re so cold you can’t live without it. It’s like a friend, or member of the family.
Yohji Yamamoto, Carnet de notes sur vetements et villes (1989)
With each moment, I try to heighten my sense of what it means to be a citizen of the world. In existing, I consume space and resources. Would that I not deprive another of theirs so that I have mine. And thus my intent now with this platform; to consider the ramifications of being a consumer and action my ideals into quantifiable change. I aspire to reach a place where I provide more than I deplete. And the ethical issues relating to the garment industry contrast so many elements of my moral constitution. Thereby, I will remain committed to op-shopping, upcycle more often, choose natural fibres over synthetic and support local companies that operate with an ethical imperative. My sincerest hope is that you engage with me along this process toward sustainable style on Keeairas.
I seek not to consume my clothes.
CLOTHING | Jacket: Veronika Maine, made in Australia (wool, polyester, viscose, elastane) | T-shirt: Betty Browne, made in Australia (certified organic cotton)
IMAGE CREDIT | [2] Karlamilyi (2010) by Amy French & Lily Long