My switch to a slow fashion wardrobe
and how sustainability just might improve your health and budget
Hi Friends!
It’s May! (*twirls with delight*) Not only is May the month of several of public holidays here in Germany BUT, we also celebrate a birthday, Mother’s Day, Father’s day, and our wedding anniversary IN ONE WEEK this year! …roll out the cake and party dresses!
And, speaking of dresses…
It would seem our desire to have objects we deem beautiful - even those which otherwise have little to no other value, is as old as time. I too delight in beautiful things - especially those which are also functional because, daily contact with such items adds a little sparkle to the ordinary. This in turn greatly improves my ability to stay present.
Point in fact: just a moment ago, I went to hastily snatch a glass from the cupboard but paused, feeling a tiny spark of glee upon seeing the eclectic selection of drinking vessels at my fingertips. My hand went for a violet glass goblet and something in its detail (or perhaps because it is a goblet) invited me to sip instead of gulp over the next few minutes.
Of all the little joys found in daily life, clothing remains my favorite source of inspiration amongst the mundane. Though for a time, I feared that my love for fashion did not align with my desire to live a conscious lifestyle.
Did you know that “fast” fashion is one of the most polluting industries? Sadly, it doesn’t have to be. While humans have been making comfortable, well-fitting clothing for centuries out of local, sustainable, and often biodegradable materials, we have veered away from this in the last 60 years. Additionally, the amount of clothes an individual owns has drastically increased. According to the Center of Biological Diversity, global clothing consumerism has increased by 400% in just the last two decades and it is estimated that 70 pounds of clothing waste per person ends up in the landfill annually. Fast fashion unfortunately creates pollution at every stage of the process - plus shipping items around the world to be on demand from department stores.
It’s also quite detrimental to our health. An article featured in The Guardian last year detailed recent study findings on how the oil in our sweat actually increases the release of toxic chemicals from clothing onto our skin. Unfortunately, even natural materials are often treated with potentially harmful chemicals.
I took time and self-discipline to get excited about the hunt for a single well-made, fairly priced item, over a “3 for $30” deal at the local department store but it is possible and much more rewarding than I would have thought.
Reasons why I choose slow fashion:
The clothes tend to feel better, AND they last longer. Natural fibres feel great on the skin, are more adaptable to a range of temperatures, and they last longer in your closet (while breaking down faster in the landfill).
My personal style has gotten more interesting. Isn’t it a strange feeling to buy a blouse at a big department store, knowing that tens of THOUSANDS of other people are wearing the EXACT same thing? And that the blouse probably saw more machines than hands in its creation? Additionally, quality small batch items tend to have unique details worth noticing and, as they tend to last beyond trends, they become truly rare.
It’s healthier. As mentioned above, synthetic fabrics are essentially plastic and therefore potentially toxic. Natural fibers also breathe better, thus avoiding bacterial growth and a variety of unsavory skin problems.
I feel good about supporting quality companies. I’ll be honest that it is not in my budget to buy new clothing often but on the occasion that I do, I feel better knowing that it does make a tiny difference. My hope is that my spending on quality over quantity gets the attention of “the market” and helps make room for ethical manufacturers to compete with unsustainable brands. Personally, I dream of a world where truly good companies, craftsmen, and talented seamstresses are appreciated by popular culture.
I’ve learned a thing or two about sewing. If there’s one thing that will make you care about clothing quality more, it’s sewing. The ability make, alter, or repair one’s own clothing used to be commonplace and should perhaps make a comeback. If I haven’t previously mentioned my affection for for the fair (and ever historically accurate) Bernadette Banner, allow me to do that now. Bernadette has been a source of sewing and mending influence and inspiration for years and, while her skills are way beyond most of us, it’s impressive to see what can be accomplished with one’s own two hands (as she rarely uses modern tools!).
My clothes have stories… and therefore, sentimental value. Much in the way a natural area can come to life as learns about its ecosystem and each minuscule contributing part, learning about the origins of the fabric I clothe myself in, where it came from and perhaps who transformed it from a piece of fabric to fashion, gives the item somewhat of an identity. Similarly, seeking out an item from a small shop or maker is an experience that adds to the meaning behind the piece. I like to imagine the things my favorite vintage dresses may have seen before I acquired them… the bright summer days and gatherings they likely attended… how babes may have played at their hems? It gives me joyful pause to think that interwoven in the little details, we too are part of the story - you know that charming skirt you slaved over making with your grandmother’s sewing machine? Or, that cording and ruffle detail on the blouse you found at the flea market while in Rome with your best friend?
Today, I’m wearing my Pendleton skirt. It’s among very few new items I have acquired in recent years. I was on holiday, visiting the Pacific Northwest for the first time since moving to Germany and wanted something uniquely “Oregon”. I debated with myself for days due to the price but in the end my aunt helped me to buy it and I’m ever grateful. Despite regular wear, its fine wool looks exactly the same as the day I first saw it. I treasure both its utility in the reversible design, that the lightweight wool is suited to most seasons, and that I can never see it without thinking of Oregon and, favorite aunt.
“The best things in life are free. The second best are very expensive” - Coco Chanel
If you’re like me, you might be wondering:
Does this mean I need to buy a new wardrobe?
Is sustainable clothing always expensive?
And, the answer is: not necessarily.
Sure, if you go and purchase a bundle of NEW items from a company that sources quality materials, pays its employees, and there is care and detail put into every item… you’re likely to pay a fair price; however, the more cost effective and sustainable approach (other than going naked 😉) is to:
Organise what you already have (more on that below).
Wear and enjoy it until it eventually meets its end.
Apply slow living principles to how you replace it (more on that below).
These steps will likely cause you to reflect on:
Does the item truly needs replacing?
Can be replaced in a way that adds both joy and sustainability to my closet?
In my own experiment, I spent less than a quarter(!) of what I normally would, in the first and second year of a more conscious approach (likely because I had so much to wear out). Now in my third year, I’m anticipating a slightly higher clothing expense, but as I follow the process detailed below, I can reliably predict that next year will again be way under budget and that the trend will continue in this way.
Building a sustainable wardrobe is not something that needs to happen overnight (though I would completely understand if after reading this, you are more than ready to immediately part with ALL your synthetic garments). You may be surprised that you really enjoy the effort that goes into this new approach. And, when you wear an item, I hope it puts a feather in your cap that your effort not only benefits you, but the environment and those who crafted the garment.
My process for creating a slow fashion wardrobe:
Step 1: Sorting
The truth is, most of us need a LOT less than we think. Some basic wardrobe math reveals that just 12 items can equal up to 72 outfits! While I enjoy mixing and matching more than a only dozen items, understanding the basic formula for a capsule wardrobe is prudent when attempting any kind of wardrobe change.
There are many approaches to this stage but I started by making a pile of what I had and let the words of Derek Severs be my guide: “If it’s not a hell YES, it’s a no.” This worked well, though, I admit that I did up with a “maybe” pile that I brooded over for a couple of days.
Step 2: Material knowledge
Once you know exactly what you have and need, learning a little about which materials you enjoy the look and feel of will save you a lot of time and disappointment later. Have a look at this helpful article to learn some pros and cons of fabric types that will allow you to make good choices for you.
Step 3: Local reconnaissance
Now it’s time to hit the streets (or the internet) and find the best second-hand, vintage, and consignment stores. I recommend looking for a second hand option first because I’m often pleasantly suprised at what I find. While this can be done online (try: eBay, Etsy, Poshmark, Vinted, or ThreadUp), it’s a nice way to get in some walking and support local business.
Step 4: Brand research
For those specifically wanting to buy new, a quick Google search will tell you what sustainable clothing stores are in your region and from there you can determine which brands align with your taste and budget. Some of my favorite companies here in Europe include: Grüne Erde, Manufactum, and TOAST. In the U.S.: Everlane, Christy Dawn, and Threads4Thought. If you’re looking for something truly unique, Wolf & Badger hosts a collection of ethical small brands worldwide and is anything but basic.
In a recent online search, I came across this website which lists sustainable clothing brands by region. It also contains a wealth of info on eco-friendly fabrics and the impact of fashion choices.
Step 5: Make it work
Now that you’ve found some items, it’s time to fit them and to think about care. This includes tailoring, cleaning methods, and making repairs when needed.
Look up a tailor or seamstress in your area and take an item in for a test run of the experience. You’d be amazed at the difference it makes when clothing has been properly fitted. Also, a professional is your best bet for more difficult repairs. If you happen to live in the United Kingdom, check out The Seam as a great resource for high end repairs.
Thoughts on washing: Before I began to make conscious decisions with my wardrobe, I rarely read care labels… and paid the price for it. Nowadays, I read EVERY label and my consideration has paid off in things looking better, longer. Most items go in the machine on a low heat gentle cycle and I almost never tumble dry anything. Why? Dryers are hard on clothing, are not energy-efficient, and they are a source of spreading microplastics in your home. It takes a few minutes more, but I hang my clothing on a rack outside or near a heater and it dries without damage and few wrinkles.
I hope this helps and would love to know: What is your favorite garment or eco-wardrobe tip?
Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider sharing it, upgrading your subscription, or treating me to a cup of tea💖
xx Chesica
This was so informative! Fast fashion gives me a lot of guilt, and this will be a helpful guide as I try to figure out what to wear instead! I’m a bit the opposite in that I don’t care much about fashion, so I end up buying cheap clothes just to get it over with!
I love this. For about 10 years now I’ve been a strictly natural fibre wearer, with the exception being a proper lightweight raincoat. It stops me buying too much because it’s so much harder to get natural fibres cheaply. I have however become a little too obsessed with Depop for refreshing my wardrobe. I love how many options there now are to trade clothes. It is still a weakness of mine to want more and more though. I’m constantly trying not keep my wardrobe minimal, but not always succeeding!