 Photo by http://missowl.com Increased fetishising of cheap clothes has led us to prioritise quantity over quality. With this degradation in the fashion landscape, has fashion itself lost its meaning? Grandma might have a thing or two to say about it. 1529 words; 7 min read Updated 5 Nov 2018 The phrase “fast fashion” refers to low-cost clothing collections that mimic current luxury fashion trends. Fast fashion helps sate deeply held desires among young (and not-so-young) consumers for luxury fashion, a world that embodies pieces of clothing, high-end jewellery, and jetsetting lifetyles that is unattainable to many. The changing fashion landscape, however, has undoubtedly led to the degradation of society as consumers. And we’re not wholly to blame for it. Read on to understand why.  Photo: Us as kids. When there were only four of us. Now there's seven. (That's me, second from the left, in the green T-shirt. Notice the oversized trousers? Yup, I'm sure we didn't buy that at the shops. No kiddin'. Same with my bro, yo.) We all wore hand-me-down clothing. There used to be structure in fashion Believe it or not, once upon a time, there was structure. The production model was based on a critical distinction between 'fashion' and 'garment'. At the top of the tree was couture. Its unique selling proposition (USP) was the amount of skilled labour inherent in every piece. The look was in the hands of the #designer and creator, and the volume of repeated pieces was limited to tens at the most. Final finishings were typically #handmade, and the buyer might not see the finished product until the very end of the process. Guess where the fashion weeks come from? You guessed it, and this cycle occurs twice a year only. (Check out this great low-down on Haute Couture by British Vogue.) And then there was Ready to Wear, or Prêt-à-Porter. Ready-to-wear has rather different connotations in the spheres of fashion and classic clothing. In the fashion industry, designers produce ready-to-wear clothing, intended to be worn without significant alteration because clothing made to standard sizes fits most people. They use standard patterns, factory equipment, and faster construction techniques to keep costs low, compared to a custom-sewn version of the same item. Some fashion houses and fashion designers produce mass-produced and industrially manufactured ready-to-wear lines but others offer garments that are not unique but are produced in limited numbers (industrialised limited cuts.) And then there are the basics. Like your jeans, your t-shirts, and undergarments. This is the structure.  Some luxury brands you may recognise Fast-forward to now, Fast Fashion has unsustainably fed our wardrobes by linking everything we buy to have a direct lineage to the runway somehow. We've entered a new era of consumption (or, as you may recognise as 'fashion') where we can now 'design' styles inspired by the runway and hang garments in a shop rail in as quick as three weeks. Even wardrobe basics are expected to be infused with the aura of big design and big designers. So-called style trends followed, once we kept up with more carbon copy production and consumers started purchasing and wearing the same pieces. “We live not according to reason, but according to fashion.” – Seneca The degradation of the fashion landscape It’s genius, though. For consumers, not for the environment. As stated above, most people see high end luxury as something unattainable. This world conjures up images of exclusivity, beauty and art, and dream-like settings. In a way, Fast Fashion fills that void in that our fantasies can now come true. Our thirst to fulfil this dream is so big though, that it cannot be fed completely, and it’s ever-lasting. The couture houses are now seemingly perpetuating the problem, too. Instead of only producing two seasons’ worth of collections, we now have other ones gracing the runways – ‘capsule collection’, ‘resort collection’, 'pre-fall', and similar. The Zara production model for example (I'll discuss this later on) focuses on the creation of smaller-than-average production batches to overcome the dizzying rates at which trends evolve, which in turn provides for limited floor stocks for its designers' creations. As a result, the average consumer, seeing the last pair of size 8 blazer on the shelves that fit her, is then tricked into thinking affordable 'fashion' will be gone forever if you don't snatch it now. Harvard researchers (2004) have described this drives a sort of hunger... 'a sense of tantalising exclusivity.'  We used to have a system What this means for us There's a sweet irony to all of this. The industry's foray into 'dynamic' fashion has created a consumerism monster – and as a consequence, they are constantly chasing their own tail. This pandemonium is what ultimately keeps the weaves turning. It is then fair to observe that the industry's meteoric rise due to Fast Fashion has peaked, and it's on a spiralling comedown. Fast Fashion has become a bit ugly, and tacking it is like getting into an argument with someone who's physically bigger than you, that is difficult to neutralise. In the meantime, in people's homes all around the industrialised nations, this is the resultant reality we're faced with. Picture this: your burgeoning wardrobe with clothes hanging out of them with tags still on. The rush of people busting at the doors at Boxing Day sales. The way we simply just throw away our clothes because they were a 'bargain' discounted buy, purchased for a mere $5. The problem with attainable cheap ‘fashion’, is that you have too much choice. Ask yourself this: despite your hard to shut drawers and fat wardrobe, philosophically speaking, it is highly likely you won't be happy with what you got. Essentially, how many mornings you do wake up to go to work, a party, a wedding, a dinner date… Thinking you can’t find ANYTHING to wear? "Maybe all your clothes should past the Grandma test." All is not lost, however. I remember my conversations with my grandmother when she talks about how she bought her washing machine two decades ago and it’s still going, after about three repaired breakdowns. She comes from a generation that repairs and mends things, not throw them away because they’re a little troubled. I always thought grandma’s philosophy of quality over quantity was potent advice that made sense. Her words of wisdom have stayed with me and have gotten me through lots of hype over my growing up years. Maybe all your clothes should past the Grandma test. Grandma’s right though, isn’t she? Quality always wins over quantity. Except for children’s clothes, I get that (in some cases though, not all.) In grandma’s world, the hand-me-down philosophy makes perfect sense for children in a family. I never wore new clothes when I was younger. I always wore dad’s daggy work pants that he stopped wearing, the ones with the pleats. And did I end up an adult with negative scars from my ‘styling’ sense? I don’t think so. I am nowhere close to say I can conjure up Grandma's memories and things that bring her nostalgia. She'd been through the war so I have no authority whatsoever on the topic. But I don't think it's quite a stretch to say I am sick of mass consumerism. Can we bring art, beauty, dreams, and exclusivity back please? I’d really like to see the end of Fast Fashion, pronto. How many times have you walked in a clothing shop for a browse, and thought to yourself: Wow, these cheap, polyester blend clothes on the racks are so….. unattractive! And uninspiring! And quickly thought that window shopping idea was a bad one? Grandma doesn't go out anymore because of her bad legs, but I'd be ashamed to take her clothes shopping at the mall. It's beyond embarrassing. She taught me lots, and I can attribute my sense of style to her. She instilled in me that we can have our own luxuries in life – from the few 'good' things we own – that we will treasure forever. That's why we appreciate the clothes from their era so much. The fabric, the stitching, the way the seams were put together. You can actually feel the luxury. When grandma reminisces on the good ol’ days and you see that spark in her eyes... you know she means better quality products, better quality clothes, better quality furniture. Yes, contrast this to the story about the burgeoning wardrobe above. Which brings me to this: are we only pretending to feel good in our cheap clothes? Well, maybe you can change that today. Try buying quality-made products that lasts you more than thirty wears. Can we look at buying clothes a bit differently from now on? Be a little rebellious. Invest in something you really love when you're next at the shops, something that would make your grandma proud. Stay tuned for the next write-up! Join us in our Slow Fashion movement with the hashtag #ConscientiousFashionista and #wardrobetruths on Instagram, and follow us at @fashinfidelity. Tags: #createyourtrend #styleoverfashion #liberation #freeyourself #fastfashion #slowfashion #ethicalfashion #responsiblefashion #intentionalpurchasing #fashioneducation #wardrobetruths #whomademyclothes #fashionisnolongertrendy #grandmaknowsbest References: "Rapid-Fire Fulfillment," Harvard Business Review, Vol. 82, No.11, November 2004.
0 Comments
 Photo by Kris Atomic via Unsplash.com As a society, we should be ashamed of ourselves. We haven't really tried very hard to reduce our impact of consuming fashion, because we don't even know how they're made. 1585 words; 7 min read Updated 5 Nov 2018 We see so many companies claiming to manufacture ethically, or producing sustainable fashion. But let's get back to basics. We can't be buying into fashion trends or ethical fashion claims, when we don't even understand how clothes are made. If we were all students in a classroom taking a test on what and who made our clothes, we would all fail – tremendously. In the process of explaining my venture to many, many people – the Uber driver taking me to my destination, my high school friends, my ex-workmates, even my siblings, it's clear that we are dumb about where our clothes come from. There are so many levels of inputs into the supply chain of garment production, that we don't seem to care or appreciate. We see something we like on a shelf or hanger, and if it fits well (arguably, sometimes it doesn't fit well but it's cheap enough), we snatch and pay – simple! Inherently, all clothes carry an environmental footprint. Natural fibres are not always the better choice. Consuming fashion should be easy How do I choose better, then? Well, when it comes to choosing a piece of clothing from the shelves, consumers are driven by their own values. These are so deeply rooted and so varied in each individual, we can never gauge in which direction this decision could have its origins. We have to wear clothes, sure. This is not a fabric-shaming exercise. One fabric is not better than the other. But wouldn’t it be great if you knew some of this info at point of purchase? What I am championing for, in this day and age, is that clothes are labelled for its environmental and social footprint. This is so that consumers can make a value-based decision that matches their own. We already do this – the food we eat based on the labels affixed on the can, or how it's described in an upmarket restaurant's menu. The furniture we buy because we know of its make and origins, and fall in love with its texture, grain, feel to touch. The drinks we avoid because we know of its sugar content. The cars we drive because we know of its emissions and where it's assembled, and so forth. For example, we are proud to announce our wines come from a certain region, that our cars are German, that our eggs are free-range, and that our dining table is jarrah or oak. But boasting about how much water my jeans consumed in the production process? Not that sexy, is it? But at least with a footprint label, you know. You can’t ‘un-know’ what you’ve been told. This may be a purely educational exercise, or it could actually influence purchasing decisions. What do you reckon? (I expand this idea further throughout the blog.)  When it comes to choosing our clothes, we can't simply just look at type of fabric. (Photo: Matt Seymour via Unsplash.com) The natural versus synthetic conundrum The most common question I get when I dive into this topic is the fabric used. Ah, the old which fabric is greener conversation. Are natural fibres (cotton, wool, silk) better than synthetics (acrylic, nylon, polyester)? Inherently, all clothes carry an environmental footprint. Natural fibres are not always the most ethical or sustainable choice. (While we’re on this topic, leather is not technically a fabric but a material.) In terms of natural fibres, cotton is the thirstiest yarn on the planet, whereas bamboo and hemp are must faster-growing and is less resource-intensive. Cotton also relies heavily on pesticides and insecticides to ensure maximum yield for growers. Synthetics mostly originate from the distillation of petroleum and carries with it the footprint of mining for oil, refining, and distribution which constitutes a big chunk of environmental impacts to air, land, and water. There's also rayon (viscose), modal, and lyocell, which the industry terms "regenerative" cellulose fibres. Unlike most man-made fibres, rayon, modal, and lyocell are not synthetic. They are made from cellulose, commonly derived from wood pulp, and more recently from bamboo. They are neither a truly synthetic fibre, in the sense of synthetics coming from petroleum, nor are they natural fibres, in the sense of processing fibres that are produced directly from plants or animals (such as wool.) However, their properties and characteristics are more similar to those of natural cellulosic fibres, such as cotton, flax (linen), hemp and jute, than those of thermoplastic, petroleum-based synthetic fibres such as nylon or polyester. More on this here. Not all clothes are 100% of a certain fibre. We find cotton mixed with elastane, cotton silk blends, acrylic blended with wool, and polyester regularly mixed with other fibres. So your clothing footprint is all jumbled up! What I am championing for, in this day and age, is that clothes are labelled for its environmental and social footprint. Fabric is only one part of making clothes happen What people often don’t think about is that the fabric selection is only one part of the garment manufacturing process. In a nutshell we have the following steps:
But hang on – even before we get to garment manufacturing, how did your fabric get there? Consider step (2) above, “sourcing your materials.” Your yarn did not come to a wholesaler’s office in rolls straight from an Uzbekistan cotton farm, or from a petroleum distillation refinery.  Handblock printing in Jaipur, India. (Photo: Najah Onn) A big dirty part of it however Yes, turning fibre into fashion is a dirty industry. This is where we focus our minds next: to the textile industry and its mills across the globe. The #textile industry is primarily concerned with the design and production of yarn, cloth, clothing, and their distribution. The raw material may be natural or synthetic using products of the chemical industry. We tend to assume that fashion has moved into some high-tech zone, with garments produced by magic pollution-free processes, but it is far from it. Take natural fibres, for example. Turning white fluffy cotton bolls into fabric, washing the grease out of wool – often remains the back-breaking, pollution-riddled heavy industry it ever was. We might be fooled to think the process has now become ‘clean’, but the reality is, we just don’t see them – because it no longer happens in our backyard. Textile #mills are found in China, India, Italy, Germany, Bangladesh, and Pakistan. In over a hundred years, the essential process (and some of the chemicals) used in textile production really haven’t changed much. As anti-pollution laws came into effect to protect First World inhabitants and resources (for example, the USA Federal Water Pollution Control Act 1972), the fashion industry, with its penchant for quick and cheap, switched its production game to parts of the world that are harder to monitor, and where they also often benefit from less stringent, or non-existent, legal controls. Now I’m not saying all of textile production is bad, I’m saying most of them in Developing World countries probably wouldn’t meet your expectations if you were to visit one. After all, 90 percent of waste water in developing countries is discharged into streams and rivers without any treatment. The truth is that, without a plethora of toxic substances or processes to choose from, your wardrobe wouldn’t be half as visually appealing or work so well on your bodies. With the exception of some pretty dire eco-fabrics (think jute and hemp – not everyone's cup of tea), a fabric can’t go anywhere until it’s finished, least of all into your washing machine or even the open air, where it would disintegrate and drip dye all over your house.  Inside a yarn factory in Neemrana, India. (Photo: Najah Onn) We just need to start with existing measures first – the basics With all that in mind, what has come of us – society at large, is that we’re first and foremost consumer of garments, and secondly (if applicable), religious trend follower of Fast Fashion. You probably know by now that Fast Fashion is not good for our planet. The resources it requires is putting extra pressure on our environment and people, in a negative way, while big corporations are only interested in making more profit for themselves by squeezing tight the cost of production – mainly in the form of wages and raw materials, and avoidance of compliance. I don’t think we’re anywhere near solving all of Fast Fashion’s problems, or even any close at reversing the trend. But governments can regulate our factories better, right? And monitor compliance to standards? To treat wastewater prior to discharge? To install filters on our stacks? To make sure people who work in textile mills wear appropriate personal protective equipment? Are these new concepts to you? I doubt it. Once we do this, the cost of producing textiles will take into account the health of our rivers and the air we breathe, the health of our workers, the wellbeing of our societies and ecosystems. Then we can really go back to basics. Make clothes because we need and appreciate them; not because they are #trendy, according to Fast Fashion. Perhaps it’s not really an insurmountable idea to live in a world where we intentionally purchase our necessities based on what works for our bodies. I’d like to imagine so. Join us in our Slow Fashion movement with the hashtag #ConscientiousFashionista and #wardrobetruths on Instagram, and follow us at @fashinfidelity. Tags: #wardrobetruths #lessonsinfashion #ethicalfashion #fastfashion #slowfashion #fashionisnolongertrendy #fashioneducation References: Siegle, L. (2010) "To Die For - Is Fashion Wearing Out the World?"
 Photo by Annika Enderborg/AAP. Source: News Corp Australia Our middle class is no longer. With the tightening of our household budget, everyone wants cheap. We don't sacrifice looking good, so enter Fast Fashion. 461 words; 2 min read Updated 15 September 2018. In 2002, (now Sir) Philip Green bought the Arcadia Group for £850 million. In 2005, his star brand Topshop accounted for £1 billion of UK clothing sales alone for the first half! (A feat, considering the entire clothing market was worth £7 billion.) Fast forward to 2017, Topshop Australia is now under administration, and Topshop globally is under nobody's radar.. recording losses in revenue year on year. His other brands including Dorothy Perkins, Evans, and Wallis, among others are also no longer relevant. It seems that buying clothing nowadays is limited to just cheap clothes, and expensive clothes. There is no middle-ground fashion. Take Myer Australia, for example. Once the icon of Australian retailing, it is on the slide with the department store group this week reporting an 80% profit slump and closure of another three of its stores. Why? Because the operating model of selling fashion has changed. It involves quick turnaround, fresh pieces, 24/7 'trends', online selling platforms, social media branding, and a whole lot of marketing to the right audience. Not to mention aggressive ordering tactics that are downright unethical. Because of this, fast fashion is cheap. Super cheap.  Photo by Charisse Kenion via Unsplash.com As Retail Week Prospect senior analyst Rebecca Marks suggests in June, “The younger consumer wants something they can wear once. They don’t want to be seen on Instagram in the same outfit.” Sad state of affairs, but says it all, really. I don't know if I'm sad or outraged. I suppose the sign of the times is saying that fast fashion has really become Big Fashion (much like its predecessor, Big Agriculture and Big Pharma) and is dominating the retail sector. It's definitely having a moment. It's not the healthiest model for the economy, the planet, and technological pioneering. At the same time, more and more of us are realising that fashion is no longer trendy. As we age, we buy clothes that fit well, last longer and can easily match a few of our wardrobe favourites. We are not swayed by so-called 'trends.' We learn to appreciate sewing, curating our own wardrobe, and the art of mending clothes. With the emergence of alternative fashion brands out there that are providing an ethical consciousness to our current consumer market, there is reason to believe fast fashion will not hold its position and sit on its high horse forever. I'm no economist, but I'd like to believe the insurgence of the slow fashion movement will come to a juncture with the current unsustainable model. It’s highly possible. And it's just a matter of time. Join us in our Slow Fashion movement with the hashtag #ConscientiousFashionista and #wardrobetruths on Instagram, and follow us at @fashinfidelity. Tags: #conscientiousfashionista #wardrobetruths #lessonsinfashion #ethicalfashion #fastfashion #slowfashion #fashionisnolongertrendy #fashioneducation
|
#FashionEducationAdding substance to the Conscious Fashion chatter. Archives
October 2019
Categories
All
Resources
(downloadable) 
|
||||
