There are fashionistas, and then there is the rest of us: people who simply wear clothes. If you ask fashionistas about significant dates and events that revolutionized fashion, they would probably say the 1920s when Coco Chanel first introduced the Little Black Dress, more popularly known as the LBD. Some might say 1947, when Christian Dior debuted the “New Look”, which featured cinched waists and full skirts, and redefined what femininity looked like after World War II.
However, I’d like to argue that a significant date that everyone who wears clothes ought to remember is April 24, 2013. On this fateful day, a garment factory building in Dhaka, Bangladesh, Rana Plaza collapsed, taking with it the lives of 1,134 garment workers and injuring 2,500 others. This sparked another kind of fashion revolution: a global campaign to ensure that no lives are sacrificed while creating outfits that are “to die for.” It has also fueled the growing interest in conscious consumption, the recognition that the things that we buy and use have environmental and social impacts.
Conscious consumption seems simple: use only what you need. But it’s easier said than done because it’s easy to rationalize our consumption patterns, especially when we buy clothes. We don’t just buy clothes for their functional value, like when we buy jackets to stay warm in cold weather or sportswear to participate in athletic activities. We also buy clothes for their social value, that is, how we think we will be perceived by others when we wear certain types or brands of clothing. We see clothing as an expression of our identity. Is it possible to be fashion-conscious and still be mindful of how much we consume?
Make do and mend
Conscious consumption is not a new concept. In fact, the United Kingdom government has a poster in its archives for a campaign called “Make-do and Mend” from 1929 to 1945, around the time of World War II. With the war causing a shortage on clothes as manufacturing supplies and efforts were diverted to making uniforms and parachutes, citizens were encouraged to go through their wardrobes and maximize the use of the clothes that they already had. The government even went as far as organizing evening classes to teach people how to sew new clothes from old garments.
I believe that this campaign is still relevant today. While it might be faster and cheaper to just buy new clothes, mending your old clothes could add value to them. Visible mending techniques like covering holes and stains with patches and appliques can make them more durable, attractive, and personal. And it doesn’t even require fancy sewing skills! For example, “sashiko,” a traditional Japanese embroidery technique that is used not just to patch up, but also to reinforce and adorn worn-out garments with just a series of running stitches. This does not just extend the life of the clothes, it also gives it a whole new unique look.
Shop smart
While our clothes are durable goods, no amount of mending can make them last forever. Buying new clothes is inevitable, so here are some ways that we can do it mindfully:
1. Space out spending. We don’t need a new shirt or a new pair of shoes every week or even every month. We can challenge ourselves to only buy a new item to replace one that cannot be repaired, or try that #nonewclothes challenge, where we go 30, 60, or 90 days without buying any new apparel. This also helps us save up and buy better-quality items that could be more expensive.
2. Curate, don’t consume. Our wardrobe ought to reflect our personality and lifestyle. We can commit to only buying and keeping clothes that we can use multiple times. This means buying based on durability and timelessness, rather than trendiness and cheap prices.
3. Choose with purpose. What we spend our money on reflects what we value. We can choose to buy from brands that reflect what is important to us. Buy from local brands that create livelihoods for marginalized communities. Buy products that use carbon-neutral materials and processes. We can wield our purchasing power to create a more equitable world.
Fashion-consciousness doesn’t have to contradict conscious consumption. We can choose to shift our focus from fleeting fads to enduring quality and ethical production, thereby creating a personal style that respects the planet while making profits for more people.
Liza Mae L. Fumar is a PhD in Business candidate of De La Salle University, where she also teaches Management courses, including Corporate Social Responsibility and Governance. Her research interests include consumer behavior and green consumption. She is an outfit repeater and a volunteer for Fashion Revolution Philippines. She can be reached at liza.fumar@dlsu.edu.ph.
The views expressed above are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect the official position of DLSU, its faculty, and its administrators.
