Today, we’re talking about the S word. You know… s************y.
Yes, we’re talking about sustainability. Or more specifically, the paradox of sustainability in fashion. To do this, we first have to define what sustainability *really* is. As consumers have increasingly shifted their preferences towards products that are organic, recycled, or otherwise sustainably branded, drawing a line between what is actually sustainable and what is just greenwashing is crucial. Let’s begin.
The concept of sustainability derives from ecosystem sciences, because nature is the OG sustainable baddie. In most (if not all) natural processes, any byproducts go back into creating the resources needed to carry out the original process, and so nothing is wasted. For example, plants convert energy into edible forms for animals that will one day die, decay, and provide nutrients needed for more plants to grow.
The idea of sustainable *human* practices is that those practices provide for the needs of the people without compromising the ability to fulfill these needs in the future. To translate this to fashion: for clothing to be sustainable, it needs to be produced in a way that does not compromise the ability of the environment to provide the resources needed for future clothing.
For example, you might think: okay, well cotton grows back! So do other natural fibers for textiles! But of course, it is more complex than that. Growing the same crop continually in a field will slowly deplete the soil of crucial nutrients — rendering that plot of land useless for growing anything! So monocropping (growing one type of plant in the same area all the time) is not going to work. The process of growing the material depletes the ability to grow the material the next year.
You might already see how any sort of clothing production does not really fit the criteria of sustainability. Modern clothing production relies on finite resources to produce an infinite amount of stuff that is often only used by the consumer for a few years (or months, in the case of fast fashion) before being discarded. And discarded to where? Sometimes to donation stores, where TikTok teens and low-income families alike shop the racks; sometimes they’re offloaded to developing countries; a lot of the time they pile up in landfills.
A few forward-thinking brands have come out with statements in the past few years blatantly claiming that they are *not* sustainable. Of note are American brand Noah, and Scandi favourite Ganni, both of whom have previously been lauded for their leadership in the sustainable fashion space. In essence, these brands (correctly) claimed that every happy customer requires a toll on the environment, whether through the resources needed for production, the emissions cost of distribution, or an array of other side effects.
And this doesn’t even start to delve into the responsibility of a company to extend the lifetime of their garments after they have gone into the hands of the consumer. Noah recently started a program called “Not Dead Yet” that allows consumers to send in old products for store credit. This is a great example of corporate responsibility! However, many sustainability analysts call for more action, like programs that assist consumers in learning how to care for their garments in a way that makes them last longer, or that provide consumers with the tools needed to make repairs to their garments. The most famous (and pioneering) effort in this vein comes from Patagonia, whose Worn Wear program makes it possible to make repairs, swap out clothing, and donate it for credit when the time comes.
Many brands, and sustainability advocates, acknowledge the fact that humans did clothe themselves for thousands of years without Earth-shattering consequences. They point to the forgotten art of craftsmanship as an avenue towards sustainable production and consumption.
However, while the cobbler may have been a viable option for a Medieval town of 300 people, we do be living in a world with almost 8 billion people! And the worst part? Thanks to industrialisation and the internet, all of those people feel entitled to whatever product they want/can afford from any other place on the planet. Phew, that’s a hard one to get past! And naturally, a time intensive process like true craftsmanship is pricey AF. Thanks to industrialisation and the internet, all of those people feel entitled to whatever product they want (or can afford) from any other place on the planet. That’s a hard one to get past! And naturally, a time intensive process like true craftsmanship is pricey AF. So that already effectively outprices 99% of the world’s population from purchasing sustainably-crafted goods.
And I hate (love) to be the one to say this, but we simply cannot consider building a sustainable model of fashion production around a practice that excludes virtually all of the people who the current fashion industry relies on. Oof. So what the f*ck do we do now?
Like the answer to many, many environmental concerns, the change will likely have to happen in the minds of the consumers themselves. Our lives are so separate from the products that we consume that oftentimes we don’t even realise how much we are consuming or how those products impact the environment. Consumers need to focus on holding off from changing their wardrobe every season. Traditionally, fashion operated on a four season schedule: Spring/Summer, Fall/Winter, Pre-Fall, and Resort. Fast fashion brands, however, often introduce hundreds of new styles *every week*. That’s 52 micro-seasons a year!
While it’s true that we’re past living in an age where a dress takes a dressmaker several weeks to complete, we need to start thinking about fashion production in this way. The changes that have occurred in the fashion industry to make the production cycle so much faster are the ones that are harming the environment. It is as simple as that.
This solution is far from perfect, and it perfectly sums up the conundrum of late-stage capitalism. Due to a lack of ethical regulation (ie, allowing “the markets to work their magic” aka “not giving a sh*t about social or environmental externalities), individuals themselves are left to try to fix the problem despite having very little control over the situation.
Famously, the capitalist consumer protests with their wallet, so the idea is that if we behave on a slower cycle, businesses will slow their roll. Similarly, supporting businesses that don’t make anything new to produce clothes (like upcycling, recycling, or second hand) allows us to not only avoid making new products but also saves some from the landfill. TBD on if that stops climate change.
As we know, reaching total social coordination on any front is impossible, especially in modern America. But, changing consumer perspectives also helps mitigate environmental impact in other industries, such as food production. If you understand that it doesn’t make sense to pay $11 for a dress from China, you probably understand that it doesn’t make sense to get $5 mangos in the dead of winter.
All of ^^ this ^^ is part of why we started Apocalypse. Arguing that one person is going to stop the climate crisis is obviously hyperbolic. However, by providing a place for our community to shop as-sustainably-as-possible and to learn about the intersection of fashion and climate, we feel we’re doing what we can. The clothing resale market is projected to double in the next five years, and that’s a future to look forwards to.
This is a conversation I intend on continuing to have (I do have an environmental science degree, after all). The nuances of sustainability are so complex but necessary to learn, and I think we can do it together. Where do you stand on sustainable fashion? Do you think it’s a possibility, and on what timeline?
Thanks for listening guys. Love you.
