A couple of years ago I read a book called, ‘To
Die For, Is Fashion Wearing Out the World?’ by British author and eco journalist,
Lucy Siegle. This book made my jaw drop, it made me feel guilty as hell and it
really opened my eyes. (Published 2011 for a sneak peak of what Siegle investigated
watch this youtube vid).).
I had no idea
that the leftover residues and chemicals from dying fabric turned rivers blue
and affected the fertility of workers. That, 1500 silkworms die to make one metre
of fabric. I had no idea of the human cost of our self-gratifying (if only
momentarily) impulse purchases had.
I had ignorantly
bought into the ‘Fast Fashion’ Fad well and truly. I was regularly thrilled
when friends commented on a new top. ‘Only $10.00 from Glassons,’ I’d boast. I
bought three. My easily influenced daughters were hooked too. Movies like, ‘Twenty Seven Dresses’ and ‘Confessions of a Shopaholic’ had only fueled their desire for
instant fashion.
Nary had I given
a thought for the young women in south east Asia far from their country homes,
living in shabby dorms at their place of employment: garment factories. These
women worked hideously long hours, under stringent male supervision, were
sometimes forced to take contraceptives, all for a wage that barely covered
living costs. Nor had I considered the outworkers, sometimes children, hunched
over summer tops sewing on sequins and beads in their slum-like homes, for doodly
squat in return.
All those
bargains I zapped up only lasted a year or less, then became stuffing in my homemade
draft-stoppers or went to the Salvation Army. So had I really saved any money?
Not at all. At least I’d recycled. But a heck of a lot of our throw
away-did-I-actually-buy-this fashion ends up in the landfill.
According to
Siegle, ‘80 billion tonnes of new garments are produced a year. Of that 1.5
million tonnes get thrown in the bin’. In her book she talks of following a
woman down the high street. It was raining and the woman’s shopping bags had
holes, through which her just purchased bras and knickers were falling onto the
pavement. When made aware of her losses the woman just rushed on. They were so
cheap she didn’t even bother to pick them up. The huge department store Primark
was to blame.
Primark became
famous for its fast turnaround of London Fashion week garments, all at rock
bottom prices. This lead to an initiative between the UK government and 300 big
retailers, called the Sustainable Clothing Roadmap in 2009, to fight against what became
known as the ‘Primark Effect.’ Scary. It also included ways to educate
consumers on how to wash clothes at lower temps and less often, to reduce the
energy spent in a garments lifetime. Not silly.
Jeans last longer if you wash them less. It’s also a better option for
our seas to mend them rather than hiffing them out and buying a new pair, if you think back to the dye factory. Why
not support your local seamstress if you don’t sew.
On the subject
of landfill, if you want to read the findings of another eco expert my lovely sister,
Belinda Waymouth; journalist, turned actress, turned photographer, mommy and
now UCLA student and Huffington Post Blogger, read her latest post: Sex, Lies and Garbage and weep. Belinda lives in the green village of Santa Monica and says,
“Many of us are recycling our butts
off. But consider the statistics: Americans are less than 5 percent of global
population, yet create half of all e-waste, and 33 percent of solid waste…”
Thankfully, I’m
been a recycler, composter, reducer and re-user since recycling bins hit the Auckland
pavements over twenty years ago. But like all of us, I can do better. I felt I
should deal with my fast fashion guilt first. And I have. I now avoid, like my
middle child tidying her room, snapping up cheap bargains. I’m trying to change my teenage daughters
mindset also. In this self-gratification age this is not so easy to do nicely.
Bad cop it is.
Sister Belinda
talks about bringing sexy back to frugality. Rocking your grannies green pant
suit. Op shopping or buying vintage is not new to us. Back in our poor Ponsonby
student/journalist cadet days we shared a fine collection of brightly hued 50’s
dresses. Combined with our heavily Elnetted surf-blonde hair, pointy toed recycled
shoes and large earrings we definitely had a unique style. Dorries were us.
Such a pity those dresses wore out, our little sister Poppy would love them.
Anyway as summer
turns to autumn it gets cool down south, so I went to Nearly New Clothing in
search of a winter coat. OMG I was like a kid in a candy store, rewind thirty
years! I looked for labels naturally. Designer labels. If you’re going to buy
vintage it’s the only way. Couture prides itself on using long lasting fabrics,
cut well and impeccably finished. I rifled through racks, ignoring the smell of
previous owners. I tried on a Zambesi coat and an Adrienne Winkelman jacket. The
latter, black wool with contrasting black velvet detail was perfectly tailored
and fully lined and it fitted like a glove.
I handed over my
$75.00 cash, then skipped along the street with my brown paper bag. Proud to
have changed from fast fashion drone to tag hag vintage bitch. I’m in my 50th
year and half way through my life (my great granny lived to 100), from now on until I kick the proverbial
bucket I will make informed choices on ‘investment pieces’. Classical yet funky
clothes made of long lasting, (hopefully ethically sourced and dyed fabric),
with the aim of lasting me till I’m lying in my pine box.
That’s my body
sorted. Shoes are a little trickier. I won’t be squeezing my feet into grannies
kitten heels. I do own a pair of startling pink Terra Plana court shoes, made
from old eiderdowns and vegetable leathers. Their motto is: ‘Think on your feet
to survive on a changing planet’.
I
think that’s the only way to go.
(pic: Belinda)
