The Ah-Ha! Moment
The 2 reasons we should be more intentional about what we buy
In a nutshell:
We’d not only dress a helluva lot better
We’d also reduce fashion’s negative consequences on people and the planet
Wow, wow, wow. How’d we get from dressing better, to reducing fashion’s impact (and what does that even mean?!).
I hear you! Took me a minute to get there too. So let me rewind....
Dress Better
I’ve always had a very clear vision of how I wanted to dress and present myself to the world. Thing is, that look cost $$, money that yours truly didn’t have. So I shopped fast fashion brands like Forever 21, H&M, and Zara, and mastered how to make cheap stuff look legit.
That was fine and dandy initially, but as I got older, I didn’t feel jazzed about my wardrobe because it was filled with items designed to last just a season, not a lifetime. I wanted a closet full of pieces that I loved—each one with a story, that I could wear for decades, and potentially pass on to a daughter or granddaughter. I realized that I needed to be...wait for it, more intentional about what I bought so that I could build a wardrobe that was truly reflective of me.
Still very much on a beer budget with champagne taste, I shifted my focus from fast fashion to the *wonderful* world of consignment and vintage shopping because there, I could buy higher quality pieces, at prices I could afford. In doing so, I developed a more authentic, unique sense of style because I was wearing one-of-a-kind pieces that were distinctly me, instead of dressing like everybody else. WIN.
Reduce Fashion’s Detrimental Impact
On the Planet
Around this time, I first heard about “sustainable fashion.”
Through my work at Rent the Runway, I learned that Americans literally throw away tons of clothing per year. Why? Because we buy a bunch of stuff we don’t wear, get overwhelmed by it, and then go all Marie Kondo and throw it out (or *maybe* we drop it off at our local Goodwill store...hii). Rental was a more sustainable option because it gave women the ability to wear something only once, and then, instead of having it collect dust in their closet (or throw it out), someone else could wear it, and therefore extend the garment’s lifestyle.
As someone who cares about the environment, this struck a chord with me—by simply swapping one behavior (buying things I’d only wear once or twice) for another (rental), I was playing a small part in reducing fashion waste. Yes, there’s a lot of waste that goes into dry cleaning and shipping garments across the US, but it was a start.
On People
This interest in sustainable fashion led me to Remake, a nonprofit on a mission to make fashion a force for good. Remake’s founder, Ayesha Barenblat, introduced me to the people part of the equation. The fact that yes, there is a human being—the majority of whom are women—responsible for making my $7 H&M sweatpants which begs the question,
“If I’m only paying $7 for my sweatpants, how much is the person making my clothes being paid?”
The answer? Surprise, surprise: not much, aka, not a living wage.
To understand why, here’s a high-level overview of how our clothes are made.** Many fashion brands outsource the production of their clothing to factories in developing countries where labor is cheap (and there’s little-to-no labor regulations). These brands, driven to increase their profits, fight factories tooth-and-nail for the lowest possible prices. Factories, driven to keep these brands’ business, concede, which results in factories paying their garment worker rock-bottom wages. In the end, I get a $7 pair of sweatpants, and a woman in Bangladesh is paid a fraction of what she needs to actually live and get out of the cycle of poverty.
Heavy, right?
This realization conflicted directly with my values, specifically my belief in universal human rights. I decided that I could no longer support brands that don’t treat their workers with dignity and respect...which leads me back to giving up fast fashion…
Ah-ha! Moment
By rejecting fast fashion, and instead shopping secondhand or renting, I was not only dressing better, I was also doing a little bit of good. Now, let’s be real: it’s not like I was curing cancer or anything, but in a world filled with overwhelming problems, this was something that I actually had control over. I choose what I do (and don’t) buy. Who I support with my dollar. It’s less about what I’m giving up, and more about what I’m gaining, and that’s pretty cool.
I’m two years into this journey, and I’m far from “perfect.” I occasionally buy from brands that aren’t transparent about how their clothes are manufactured, and there are plenty of other areas in my life where I could be more sustainable, but it’s a start.
My hope is that sharing my sustainable fashion journey inspires you to think a little more about what you buy, and that R. Davies Styling can show you how chic and easy it is to shop more sustainably.
If you interested in learning the *how,* subscribe to my newsletter below.
Xx,
Robyn
**I am by no means an expert on clothing manufacturing. If you’re interested in learning more, I encourage you to check out at remake.world.