

Over the last few months, I’ve greatly downsized my clothing, and almost entirely stopped purchasing clothes. So why do we need so many pieces? What value is that clutter adding to our lives? Most likely, it’s adding more stress than anything. In most wardrobes today, we wear 20% of our clothing, 80% of the time. Everything that you own should be adding value to your life in some way.

That’s part of it, but for me what’s most important is being deliberate and intentional about everything you buy. Minimalism isn’t necessarily strictly about owning less stuff. This year, I’ve chosen minimalism as my answer to the horrors of fast fashion. Just make sure you avoid greenwashed brands that market themselves as sustainable without any action to back it up. If you have a higher budget, supporting green brands is another great option. Thrift shopping is a great alternative that is environmentally sustainable and also accessible due to its relatively low cost. Reducing the amount of clothing you buy is a great start, if cutting out fast fashion completely is daunting. So what can we do about it? In my opinion, the most important thing we can do as individuals in the fight against fast fashion is to stop buying it. And in the end, 80% of textiles globally end up in the landfill, emitting greenhouse gasses for hundreds of years as they decompose. Hundreds of tons of clothes are sent to foreign countries, wreaking havoc on local economies. You might think donating your clothes instead of throwing them out will solve the problem–if someone else can get use out of your old garment, what’s the harm? But at the current rate, the demand will never be able to keep up with the amount of clothing that is donated every year. This means that clothing feels dated faster and people are compelled to buy more pieces than ever before to keep up with current styles. The speed at which fast fashion is produced and disseminated also means that instead of the two fashion seasons of decades past, there are around 50 “microseasons”, each with new trends. That $15 top may seem like a great deal, but you can’t take that price at face value. Instead, we’re paying with the purity of our water and natural resources, and with the health of workers in sweatshops in other countries. But when you consider the hidden costs, both to the environment and to the workers, it’s clear that we are paying more than ever for our garments we just aren’t paying with money. The cost of clothing has plummeted, or so it seems. All told, fashion is responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions.

When washed, synthetic materials release microplastics into the ocean, and once they’ve been tossed out, they can take hundreds of years to decompose in a landfill, continuing to release greenhouse gasses. But in the decades since, fast fashion has become increasingly prevalent, bringing with it cheaply made garments in artificial fabrics which wear out easily.Īlthough the production of these garments takes an enormous environmental toll and uses up thousands of liters of water, even worse is what happens after. Before the 60s, people generally still relied upon garments tailor-made from high quality natural fibers. People buy more clothes and throw them out sooner than they ever did in the past– on average, a piece of clothing is only worn 7 times today. The clothing industry has gone through massive changes in the last few decades. For me, that means shopping at thrift stores, but if you have the money and time to research sustainable brands, that’s another great option. Obviously, that’s not the only way to work towards these policies, but what I like about voting with your dollar is that it’s easy to incorporate into your everyday life. If consumers stopped supporting the fast fashion industry, these companies would be forced to adapt or wither away into nothing. I am a firm believer in the power of voting with your dollar in a capitalist society, money is a massive policymaker. For my New Year’s Resolution this year, I committed to refraining from buying any clothing for six months. I had toyed with the idea of a shopping ban, and when New Years rolled around, I decided it was time to make it official. I wanted to be more intentional about what clothing I added to my wardrobe, where it was coming from, and where it went when I was finished with it. Although I’ve stopped buying new clothing and started exclusively frequenting thrift stores in the past few years, this year I wanted to completely reset my relationship with shopping.
