Fast fashion: high profits, big advertisements, little value.

Two weeks ago, I bought a leather handbag. When I spotted it sitting in a forlorn corner of an East London flea market, I told myself I would pay no more than £5 for it. When the uninterested hipster who was selling it said it cost just £2, I didn’t even try to barter down the price.

Sure, the bag’s inner lining was ripped and dirty enough that I cut it out as soon as I got home. And yes, the leather had some suspect markings as well as multiple spots where the stitching had become un-stitched. But, the rich and pleasant smell of its buttery leather and the slew of compliments I’ve accumulated while toting it around means that my new acquisition has essentially paid for itself, not that it had far to go.

While I’ve always been a fan of second-hand goods and the thrill of finding a one-off bargain, purchases like this one have become even more of a treasure since I made the decision to swear off “fast fashion” earlier this year.

With nearly instantaneous runway-to-retail turnover, ridiculously cheap prices, and a dizzying volume of colors, varieties and sizes, it’s no surprise that clothing from Forever 21 and H&M are the mainstays of many women’s wardrobes. I have, on more than one occasion, walked through the gleaming doors of H&M’s behemoth Oxford Street store in need of a simple shift dress or pair of black jeans, and have never struggled to find exactly what I needed, as well as a few items to add on.

However, despite big chains’  efforts to improve their environmental and social impact, I was finding it increasingly hard to justify buying even the occasional item from a place that pushes 30 to 50 trend-driven fashion seasons a year, rather than sticking with Mother Nature’s customary four. It was when I learned that clothes from most fast fashion outlets are designed to withstand no more than five wears, that I decided it was time to kick the habit for good.

It appears however, that few shoppers are joining me. With 2,575 stores in 44 countries, H&M announced last week that its 2nd quarter profits had reached $745 million, an impressive 20 percent rise over the previous year right in the midst of a recession. For most, the killer combination of up-to-the-minute trends and bottom-line prices is too tempting an offer to resist.

What is the alternative though? We can’t dress ourselves solely from the floors of flea markets and corners of thrift stores unless we want to smell like my leather handbag from head to toe. Furthermore, as someone who still declares it a minor victory each time I manage to pay my rent, affordability is as necessary as style and sustainability when it comes to buying clothes, if not more so. For most of us, eco-couture is not a viable option.

The answer, I’ve come to find, is what I like to call conscious fashion: valuing individual items in your wardrobe for the story they tell, who they belonged to first, or the unique place you bought them, thereby reducing the impulse to accumulate more. As someone who predominately lives out of a suitcase, I’ve become adept at paring my possessions down to the essentials, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my sense of style or creativity in the process.

Recently, I’ve been playing a mental game with myself: as I leave the house each morning, I mentally tally the items I’m wearing and where they came from. Points are scored when most of my outfit used to belong to someone else, known or unknown. A typical day might include my sisters riding boots (they were too small for her); my best friend’s vintage Coach satchel purse which she gave me for my last birthday (we call it “the lunch box”); a blazer I bought in a basement thrift store on a trip to Atlanta for $10; a sarong my mom bought in Ibiza that I wear as a scarf; and a pair of Goodwill jeans that remain the only pair of second-hand pants I’ve ever managed to find long enough for my lanky legs.

While an increasing majority of my wardrobe does come from other people (recently when someone asked me where my favorite place to shop was, my honest answer was my mom and sister’s closets), there are of course times when I need or want to buy something new.

These days, I try and do that with as much intention as possible. Buying new things less often means you can afford to spend a bit more and will be more likely to hold on to these purchases once you’ve made them. Impulsively wandering into Forever 21 before a night out is the opposite of shopping with intention; it’s the surest way to end up with a trendy, badly tailored item you won’t wear in a few months.

As someone who lives far from my family and friends, wearing things that used to belong to the people that I love makes my belongings feel less disposable and encourages me to take care of them more. Furthermore, buying unique clothing from vintage stores and street markets that are off the beaten track attaches a sentimental value to my belongings, a quality that Forever 21 and H&M will have a hard time reproducing no matter how hard they try.

It’s not simply that wearing something that’s not from a multi-national chain makes it sustainable. Conscious fashion is about more than that. In essence, my things have become more than just things to me, which I suppose is why I’m content with having less of them.

The post The Antidote to Fast Fashion appeared first on EcoSalon.

I’ve just returned home with an armful of new clothes. Two soft-as-silk shrunken cotton button downs, one oversized linen-mix cardigan, a burgundy leather hobo cross-body purse that is a dead ringer for Chloe’s Spring 2010 version and a fuchsia straw cloche (may prove risky, but for only 75 cents – I’ll take that risk!)

The sum total for this super satisfying shopping spree was, wait for it – $8.14! It’s like those MasterCard commercials: Add a little pizzazz to your summer wardrobe: $8.14. Keeping clothes out of landfill, the buzz of an incredible deal, driving your friends crazy when they ask you where you got that hot outfit – priceless!

Thrift store shopping is really the most fun I have standing-up. Riffling through the racks, pulling out hangers of clothing with stories to tell, secrets, and pasts, time seems to stop and I’m in the zone of space and creativity. I assess what works within latest trends, pair disparate pieces together and imagine how I might cut, sew, or cinch something to transform it to flatter me. Never mind, oh the thrill of finding a certifiable treasure. Over the years, I’ve found vintage YSL, Jean Muir, Missoni, a solid gold deco necklace priced as costume and a Frank Gehry-designed teakettle for only twenty bucks!

Many of my friends are fascinated by my rummaging ways but complain that they never seem to find anything other than junk. I’ll admit it is not the typical store experience. I’d liken it to being more in line with a reconnaissance mission. The best way to get the goodies is use a little subterfuge, embrace your creativity and follow my guide for a successful thrift store adventure.

The Preliminary

• Swot-up on the latest fashion magazines to get a handle on the trends. If you like, bring clippings to help you keep focused.
• Figure out what flatters your body and what simply doesn’t work for your shape. There are a lot of guides out there – I like this one. It saves a lot of time if you know for example, that v-necks are the most flattering neckline for you.
• Identify someone whose style you admire. When I’m really iffy about an item, and can’t decide whether I should take it or toss it, I ask myself – would Julie Christie wear it (insert your own stylish archetype here)? And the answer becomes clear. It’s a little goofy, I admit, but try it!
• Wear leggings and a t-shirt so that you can try on clothes if there isn’t a dressing room and so you can tell if you can incorporate an item into your regular wardrobe of casual separates.

The Push

• Give yourself a substantial time allowance; don’t bring anyone (kids, partners, pets) unwilling to look for a long time, through a lot of stuff.
• Ask at the counter for a spot to lay out all your items as you go through the first few rounds of sorting through what catches your eye. Even once I’ve whittled it down to what I want to try on, I’d say my try/buy ratio is still a meager 10:1.
• Try everything on. Don’t pay too much attention to the size on the tag. Obviously, people buy clothes from different countries that have different sizing systems. Secondhand clothes tend to shrink over the years and remember that a lot of designers have been flattering us with vanity sizing for years now. You may be horrified that you fit perfectly into a size 16 but who cares if you look fabulous in it (when you get home you can perform a label lobotomy if it makes you too crazy!).
• Look for recognizable names and at the care labels. You can usually get a sense for the age, origin and quality of the garment from its label.

The Pull

• I’ve identified a few favorite hunting grounds over the years, but sometimes I just have to admit that either I’m not feeling it or it’s simply a dry day. Walk away, but don’t give up future visits.
• Reconstruct your new clothes into something else. I’ve cut sleeves from blazers to create long waistcoats, dipped a trench coat in dye and chopped off the bottom of a sequined dress to create a dazzling evening tank. If you’ve bought something that you love but it just doesn’t work, make it into something else.

Abandon Mission!

• Stay away from anything with stains, rips or tears, but remember that you can always replace buttons and zippers (zippers are trickier and best attempted on something really special).
• Bring Cash; most thrift stores don’t take credit cards.

Depending on how successful your mission is, you may just want to keep the location and origin of your new-to-you wardrobe top-secret privileged info.

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