'Every bag, every blouse, every bracelet / Comes with a price tag baby, face it'
- Runaway
I follow an account on Twitter called 80's Don Draper. Even those only casually acquainted with Mad Men will get a good chuckle out of it. A few days ago he said 'The hippos eat marble after marble, but are never satisfied. That's America.' You could probably say that about almost any first world country, but the sentiment struck a chord. It was yet another comment on consumer culture, and it's not surprising to note that although that thought is supposed to come from the mind of someone in the 1980s, it is still completely applicable today.
A few things have been going on in my life that have made me re-assess how I feel about the garment industry. For one, I decided in late March that I wasn't going to buy any new clothing for a while. This is not a new concept to many style bloggers, many talk about going on "fasts" or whatever, and some chronicle their experiences. I just needed a palate cleanse. I didn't mention it here because really, who cares? During the seven or so years that I've had this fashion blog, it has slowly evolved (devolved?) to being little more than a chronicle of what I wear every day. My initial thought was to go for at least a month without shopping and then see how I felt.
It felt good, so I kept going. Although I think of my wardrobe as being on the small side of average for someone of my gender, age and income level, I quickly realized how much I had, and how I could continue on for years quite easily without needing to add to it. An interview I had done with the blog Feather Factor months ago finally went live on April 18th, and a remark I made about how disposable fast fashion is was bolded for some reason, the equivalent of a pull quote in blogging terms.
And then, on April 24th, came Rana Plaza. One of many thousands of rickety factories in Bangladesh that manufactures cheap clothing for consumption by the western world, collapsed, killing upwards of600 1000 people. (Rana Plaza is just one of about 5,000 factories in Bangladesh that manufactures items for the garment industry). Reading about the conditions of the factory were sadly not shocking to me. It moved me to tears, but it was not shocking. I have already read a few books on the subject (like this one and this one) and am familiar with the concept that counterfeit goods (particularly bags) are being largely made by children, or slaves (or both), whose profits benefit human trafficking and other atrocities. I recall a co-worker from years ago, who used to work at a mega-huge fast fashion chain, tell me about how when new shipments of clothing came in, they would inspect each piece before putting it out on the floor for egregious sewing errors. The reason for this was because it was obvious that the people on the other side of the world who made these items were not exactly familiar with the complexities of sewing machines. "Children," she said plainly. "Little children."
This is all to say: I knew that when it comes to the fast-and-cheap end of the garment industry, the entire chain, from top to bottom, was seriously fucked up, filled with exploitation and terror at every level. The crossroads that I am at now is, where in the garment industry can you truly be sure that no one, at any level, is being exploited to get you the thing you are wearing? How is this achieved? Will consumers demand transparency to a point where actual, permanent change within the industry occurs? Will every shady factory owner be shown swift justice? Will consumers opt to pay more for their clothing in order to ensure that the person who made it was not a slave, or work in a factory that would eventually crush them to death? In this global economy, I'm not holding out any sort of hope.
So, I'm hopping off of the carousel. Actually, it started to feel more like a treadmill. Fashion blogging has changed immensely since I first set out in 2006. Back then, I swore up and down that I would never show my face, let alone divulge my full name, on these here interwebs. Back in those days, all I did was write. Nowadays, I think most people hear 'fashion blogger' and think that you are a person who takes photos of yourself every day. I never set out to be that person. Yet somehow I became that person. And it's really not my thing anymore.
Everything gelled at once. The not shopping, the deaths of hundreds because everyone wants to eat their marbles faster and faster, the piles of worn-once-or-twice fast fashion garments crammed into the racks of thrift stores that I see when I go on excursions for my vintage store. I'm one person, and I can't really affect that much change in the world. I don't want to buy something new and just hope it came from a good place. I figure if being more of a vintage and home-sewn-wearing gal is going to help me not contribute to more waste and death, then I'm cool with that. This is not a judgement on anyone else, and your mileage may vary.
A few things have been going on in my life that have made me re-assess how I feel about the garment industry. For one, I decided in late March that I wasn't going to buy any new clothing for a while. This is not a new concept to many style bloggers, many talk about going on "fasts" or whatever, and some chronicle their experiences. I just needed a palate cleanse. I didn't mention it here because really, who cares? During the seven or so years that I've had this fashion blog, it has slowly evolved (devolved?) to being little more than a chronicle of what I wear every day. My initial thought was to go for at least a month without shopping and then see how I felt.
It felt good, so I kept going. Although I think of my wardrobe as being on the small side of average for someone of my gender, age and income level, I quickly realized how much I had, and how I could continue on for years quite easily without needing to add to it. An interview I had done with the blog Feather Factor months ago finally went live on April 18th, and a remark I made about how disposable fast fashion is was bolded for some reason, the equivalent of a pull quote in blogging terms.
And then, on April 24th, came Rana Plaza. One of many thousands of rickety factories in Bangladesh that manufactures cheap clothing for consumption by the western world, collapsed, killing upwards of
This is all to say: I knew that when it comes to the fast-and-cheap end of the garment industry, the entire chain, from top to bottom, was seriously fucked up, filled with exploitation and terror at every level. The crossroads that I am at now is, where in the garment industry can you truly be sure that no one, at any level, is being exploited to get you the thing you are wearing? How is this achieved? Will consumers demand transparency to a point where actual, permanent change within the industry occurs? Will every shady factory owner be shown swift justice? Will consumers opt to pay more for their clothing in order to ensure that the person who made it was not a slave, or work in a factory that would eventually crush them to death? In this global economy, I'm not holding out any sort of hope.
So, I'm hopping off of the carousel. Actually, it started to feel more like a treadmill. Fashion blogging has changed immensely since I first set out in 2006. Back then, I swore up and down that I would never show my face, let alone divulge my full name, on these here interwebs. Back in those days, all I did was write. Nowadays, I think most people hear 'fashion blogger' and think that you are a person who takes photos of yourself every day. I never set out to be that person. Yet somehow I became that person. And it's really not my thing anymore.
Everything gelled at once. The not shopping, the deaths of hundreds because everyone wants to eat their marbles faster and faster, the piles of worn-once-or-twice fast fashion garments crammed into the racks of thrift stores that I see when I go on excursions for my vintage store. I'm one person, and I can't really affect that much change in the world. I don't want to buy something new and just hope it came from a good place. I figure if being more of a vintage and home-sewn-wearing gal is going to help me not contribute to more waste and death, then I'm cool with that. This is not a judgement on anyone else, and your mileage may vary.
Since I a) began this post with a nod to Don Draper and b) am a fan of essays that use the bookending technique, let me invoke him once more and say that writing this in some ways felt like a 'Why I'm Quitting Big Tobacco' move. It's the end of an era. I had a good ride, I think. I did more in real life because of this blog than I ever imagined I would. I wish you all the very best.
Images via The New Yorker via Getty and The Guardian via Reuters
