Do Not Withhold Good: Pursuing Alternatives to Fast Fashion

If you saw my last post, I reviewed a new novel written by my friend, Peyton Roberts. Beneath the Seams explores the issues with the fast fashion industry, as seen through the eyes of its protagonist, Shelby. New to the fashion industry, Shelby begins to realize that her success as a designer may come at a high cost to the women who are actually constructing her dresses.

"Ethical fashion" is honestly a really tricky topic. For one thing, what is ethical fashion? If you do an internet search, you'll come up with a variety of definitions. To some, it means minimal ecological impact. To others, it means no animal products were used. To most, it means that workers in the production process were paid fairly and treated well. 

There's another issue to consider. Garment factories can treat their employees badly because workers lack leverage. Why? Jobs are in high demand, and workers who complain can be easily replaced. I remember reading an article exposing the horrendous conditions in Cambodian factories. What caught my attention was their mention that these jobs are highly sought after, because as bad as they are, they are considered better than working in the rice fields. While slave labor is sadly a reality in the fashion industry, in many cases there are people who desperately want these jobs! That's a sad commentary on general living conditions in those countries, and it illustrates the complexity of this issue. There are no simple answers.

I'm coming at this topic from a Christian perspective, so my interest is in good stewardship and just treatment -- I do not support those who use environmental/social issues for political leverage (and ultimately personal gain). I define ethical fashion as clothing my family in a way that fairly compensates those who made the garments (fair trade, living wage, etc.) and stewards our God-given natural resources well. I also try to steward our financial resources, so that clothing expenditure does not trump wise financial management or sharing with the needy. 

And as a disclaimer, I am not writing this post because I am a paragon of ethical fashion. On the contrary, it's been a long and continuing journey. I don't have all the answers, and I find myself frequently conflicted about where to draw the line, or how ethical is "ethical enough." Nor is it my desire to burden others with legalistic requirements (and judging others for their purchasing decisions is neither helpful nor holy). We are all doing the best we can with the knowledge and resources we have! But I do believe the Bible teaches that workers should be treated fairly (Luke 6:31; James 5:1-6; Leviticus 19:13; Deuteronomy 24:14-15; Malachi 3:5; Jeremiah 22:13), and it's my hope that my experience may prove helpful to other who feel the same.

I just don't think someone on the other side of the globe should suffer -- or even die -- so that my child can wear a cheap t-shirt. Can I change the fashion industry with my purchases? Of course not -- I'm only a tiny drop in a very big bucket. But if I can make a difference in a few people's lives, it's worth it.

Peyton included this verse from Proverbs 3:27 in her e-mails, and I think it sums up the issue well:

"Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to do it."

My Background

I learned early on that charity and consignment shops were a treasure trove for the frugal (thanks, Mom!). I wanted a Jane Austen dress for a birthday party, so I learned to sew (also thanks, Mom!). As a teenager, my closet was bursting with me-made and thrifted finds, most of which were rarely worn -- until I realized that less is more, and curbed my "thrifty" excesses in my mid-twenties. But I had no qualms about purchasing new clothes at various retailers, and would immediately head for the clearance rack at local retailers. Motherhood brought new challenges. My sewing time was limited and I had more people to clothe. Online shopping was more convenient than herding a gaggle of children through a thrift store.

But as I learned more about the issues surrounding the fashion industry, I became more convicted about these purchases and resolved to find better alternatives.

The difficulty is that better alternatives typically come with a much higher price tag! Companies that care enough to pay their employees fairly are also usually interested in sustainability and quality. I appreciate all of those attributes, but they do mean higher costs. There's a reason our ancestors possessed far fewer clothes and wore them as long as possible! I wonder if we'd be shocked at how much their clothing cost when adjusted for income/inflation?

I absolutely believe that a more expensive quality garment is far better than a cheap, "disposable" fashion piece. But with six people to dress -- four of whom are growing at an alarming pace -- I just can't spend a small fortune on clothing every season. And these days, higher cost does not always equate to higher quality or ethical manufacturing, making purchasing decisions even harder.

My solution? Thinking outside the consumer box.

1) Worn Again

By shopping at thrift and consignment stores, I can rescue existing garments from landfills, support local charities and businesses, and sometimes find high-quality clothing that I couldn't afford otherwise. I will often come home with a bag full of garments that cost less than one of those single items would have cost new. I do have to look a little harder, but I enjoy the hunt! The clothing has already been manufactured and purchased at retail, so at this point the best thing is for the garment to be worn as much as possible before it is discarded or recycled. 

Currently, I buy almost exclusively from charity shops -- I've purchased from consignment stores, sites like Swap (before they changed their sales model. Grr.), and I've tried Poshmark a time or two. But I find I just can't beat thrift store prices! My one exception is our local Once Upon a Child, which is usually economical, runs $1 clearance sales, and is a good source for otherwise-pricey-and-hard-to-find shoes and coats.

In the picture above, all seven tops cost me less than $10 total. If purchased new (not on sale), they would retail for over $500. That's a 98% cost difference! Here's the breakdown, working top to bottom, left to right:

• Green cashmere sweater, Old Navy ($1 thrifted, ~$50-$60 new)
• Tan cashmere sweater, Lilly Pulitzer ($2.50 thrifted, $300 new)
• White lace-work sweater, American Eagle ($0.33 thrifted, ~$45 new)
• Purple lace sweater, Sonoma ($5 thrifted new-with-tags, ~$30 new)
• Black-and-white stripe tee, Boden ($0.33 thrifted, $38 new)
• Mustard-and-white stripe 3/4 sleeve tee, Old Navy ($0.33 thrifted, ~$25 new)
• Black gingham blouse, H&M ($0.33 thrifted, ~$25 new)

My local charity shop has a regular "basket day" -- all the clothes you can fit in a shopping basket (with a few exclusions) are $6. I usually fit about 15-20 pieces in my basket, so the cost per item averages $0.33. The gingham H&M blouse was long sleeve, but I altered it because it pulled across the shoulders. The tan Lilly Pulitzer cashmere sweater is from a charity shop further afield; somehow it escaped their boutique section (where I found the $5 purple sweater, which I liked enough to "splurge" on). The mustard stripe shirt has already been worn at least twenty times, so I'm nearing 1 cent per wear on that one!

As a note, local charity shops are almost always cheaper than chain thrift stores like Goodwill, and will often have sale days. It can take a bit of searching, but once you find a "goldmine" or two you're all set! 

And yes, I do realize the thrift store "industry" is ultimately dependent on fast fashion. All over the country there are stores filled with wearable clothing that people have discarded! I'm excited to find something new-with-tags, but what that means is that someone purchased something they didn't really need and never wore. But, things being as they are, at least the excesses of the fashion industry can be put to good use instead of trashed.

2) Every Last Wear

Once I buy a garment, I try to make sure we wear it out. I limit our wardrobe sizes to help with this -- if a child has fifteen t-shirts, they're probably not going to have the chance to wear them out before the season ends. I have some second-hand garments I've worn at least a hundred times, and some I've owned for a decade or more. One way to lengthen the life of children's clothes is to alter them when they go out of season or wear out. If pants have a wide enough leg, they can become shorts. When my daughter wears holes in the knees of her winter leggings, they become "shorties" to wear under summer dresses. Long-sleeve shirts can be hemmed into short-sleeve shirts. Granted, I'm likely to just save my older boys' clothing because it can be passed down, but for Rosa and Scout I try to eke every last wear out of a garment. For me, clothing that's near the end of its life is worn on "at home" days until it's no longer presentable. Anything that's still in good shape is sold or donated.

3) Changing it Up

I'll often buy garments from the thrift store to alter for myself (though I honestly hate alterations), upcycle into children's clothes, or even upcycle into *gasp* underwear! I never thought I'd be that seamstress, but after searching in vain for "ethical" underwear that fit my budget, I've resorted to making underwear for myself and my children. I purchased inexpensive patterns for theirs, but my pattern is a tracing of an old pair that fits well. I can often get two (or more) pairs of underwear out of a knit maxi skirt or a plus-size shirt (knit fabric scraps from my sewing projects are also fair game). It's not the type of sewing I really enjoy, but it's not difficult and I'm saving enough that I'm willing to spend the time.

$0.30 thrifted blouse turned into a
scarf/bandana/headband with 5 minutes
of cutting, ironing, and sewing.

I recently found a chambray skirt (probably from the 90's) in great shape at the thrift store, also for $0.30. It was too small -- no vanity sizing back then! -- but I was able to harvest the pockets to make a new waistband. It's now a very useful part of my wardrobe.

As a seamstress, I've obtained linen, leather, buttons, etc. from thrifted garments. Those materials might be expensive or difficult to source otherwise, and it's often the last hope for a garment that's hopelessly out of style or worn out in certain areas.

4) Making it My Own

Sewing is one of the most obvious ways to avoid the fast fashion industry altogether! It's not free of pitfalls, though, as fabric is still made in factories (which means workers are involved) and quality fabric can be pricey. I used to purchase bargain fabrics almost exclusively, but as the years have passed I've realized that I prefer to invest in better quality fabric -- the garments last much longer, and the materials feel better. I can occasionally find fabrics at thrift stores, or repurpose tablecloths and clothes for fabric, too. I find it very tricky to get information on where and how certain fabrics are made! Though I recently found this list that my proved helpful.

5) Considered Investments

Once in a while, I'll invest in a quality piece (or piece of fabric!) for my wardrobe. Because I save so much through charity shops, these purchases don't break the bank. Using some of my personal spending money, I recently purchased a leather tote from ABLE to replace my worn out "winter" bag. ABLE cares about sustainability and actually publishes the wages paid to employees, which is almost unheard of in the fashion industry. Even with 25% off, it was a hefty spend -- but  I can't find this type of bag second-hand (trust me, I checked... *wink*), and the quality is so good that I should be able to use it for many years. It's also my exclusive winter bag, as I only have two other handbags: a leather crossbody my husband bought in Greece while he was deployed (I use this when I'm not in "mom mode," because it's quite petite) and a fair-trade African basket (like this one but all tan) which I purchased at the Ark Encounter's Fair Trade shop and use as my summer bag. 

Of course, not everyone would want to splurge on a handbag. My mom has scored great deals on second-hand bags (including my leather Fossil wallet, which I've used for years and is still going strong). Leather totes are just my "thing," and I'm happy my money will actually help another human earn a living wage.

Some online fair trade shops that I support include:

Eternal Threads

Ten Thousand Villages

Baskets of Africa (you can find these baskets in many other online/retail shops, too)

A Google search will come up with many more! 

How Ethical is Ethical Enough?

The more I learned about fashion industry, the more I struggled with guilt and frustration. I felt like I had been sucked into this greedy, abusive system without my consent or knowledge. While the ignorant consumer is  the tip of the iceberg (versus those who actually run abysmal factories and mistreat their employees), the industry is funded by the people who purchase the clothes. Once I became aware of this, I wanted to change -- but finding alternatives wasn't easy.

Sadly, it's really difficult to source budget-friendly ethical garments. Most companies are not transparent about their supply chains, others have great "ideals" but don't actually follow through, and inquiries about labor practices don't always get responses. It's not so bad for me and the children (charity shops and homemade garments usually suffice), but almost none of my husband's clothing is second-hand and it can be hard to find brands that even fit him properly. 

And then there's shoes! I rarely find them second-hand, and I'm particular about style because we prefer minimalist/barefoot whenever possible. 

What about the fabric that I purchase to make my own garments? Fabric is made in a factory, too.

What about household goods? It's not only garment workers who deal with unjust labor practices.

It's easy for me to feel overwhelmed, and guilty about past or future purchases. But guilt is not the answer. Perfection is not attainable, and I've already mentioned that "ethical" is a nebulous concept at best. But there are so many steps consumers can take to help:

• Wear clothes more before getting rid of them (I'll sometimes set a goal, like five more "wears"). 
• Shop secondhand. 
• Buy fewer clothes, period (better for the wallet, no matter your budget). 
• Learn to sew/alter, or find a friend or local seamstress who can. 
• Shop sustainably when possible.
• Ask companies that you support what their labor practices are.
• Donate unwanted clothing in good condition
• Try to recycle or reuse worn out textiles.

I realize this topic can be  polarizing, so I truly hope this post is helpful rather than hurtful. I would love to hear your tips and resources for frugal, ethical clothing!