Important note – “Minimalism,” being a “conscious consumer,” and “thrifting,” were not invented by economically privileged, majority white people, though that is often who gets credited. Low-income and limited-resource families are extremely conscious of their consumption out of necessity; indigenous peoples practiced zero waste long before it was commodified. I am not claiming to have originated any of these ideas. This post is to share, from the perspective of an economically privileged white woman, the journey I’m taking to reduce my own addiction to excess, specifically around clothing.

With every passing year, it becomes a less and less avoidable fact that we are in a planetary climate crisis. This month alone, Oregon and California are dealing with the most widespread wildfires ever recorded, 12 countries in Africa experienced extreme flooding displacing millions and killing hundreds, and seven more named storms formed in the Atlantic, adding to one of the most prolific hurricane seasons on record.

It can be overwhelming to consider how our individual choices factor into climate change, especially when pernicious practices and products are so thoroughly integrated into modern Western life.

An aspect of my own consumption I’ve been examining more closely in recent years is clothing. Last September, Dana Thomas published her book Fashionopolis: The Price of Fast Fashion and the Future of Clothes. Fast fashion are those clothes that are made cheaply to keep up with trends and generally spend longer in a landfill than in our closets. Learning more about the toxicity of the fashion industry, from the waste produced to exploitative labor practices, really had me reflecting on and rethinking my choices.

Especially in high school and college, I was a frequent flyer (pun unintended but I stand by it) to stores like Forever 21 and H&M, sometimes even purchasing a piece of clothing for a single event like a themed party knowing it would never make it into my regular rotation. As an adult with an adult income, I transitioned to higher quality, classic pieces that lasted longer. At the same time, I was habitually scrolling Instagram, which seems to have more ads every day, and impulse buying from Amazon sellers with opaque supply chains and synthetic fabrics.

The other information that really challenged my behavior was this piece on NPR’s show 1A. Just like host Joshua Johnson, I had grown up hearing “reduce, reuse, recycle” but didn’t understand that they were a hierarchy, with recycling being the last resort. I had been absolving my guilt by taking a bag of closet rejects to Goodwill a couple of times a year instead of reckoning with the need to reduce my consumption overall.

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

Maya Angelou, American poet, memoirist, and civil rights activist

This isn’t to self-flagellate, but to provide context for where I am now. In late 2019, I resolved to change the way I shopped for clothes – thrift more, buy higher quality investment pieces, check fabrics and have a zero-tolerance for faux/PU leather goods, and look for brands with transparent and ethical supply chains. I felt good about the changes I had made, just doing more research into brands and products reduced my buying. But when several life events layered themselves on top of me, including quarantine, I felt a familiar tug toward “retail therapy”, buying as a way to manage my anxious thoughts.

Neil Patrick Harris describing his husband David Burtkas’ anxiety shopping. Same, David, same.
(Get Organized with The Home Edit, Netflix)

Finally after four straight days of packages arriving on our doorstep, my husband gently probed, “Are you doing ok? These are nice but what are they for, we’re not even really going out right now.” And I realized that I was still dealing with some internalized messages about new *stuff* making me feel good and that I was trying to manage some negative feelings in a way that wasn’t good for me, my budget, or the planet. It was shortly after that I read about the Fashion Detox Challenge and decided to give it a try.

“The most environmentally friendly product is the one you didn’t buy.”

Joshua Becker, founder of Becoming Minimalist

Fashion Detox

Started by Emma Kidd, a PhD student at Glasgow Caledonian University, the premise of the Fashion Detox Challenge is very simple. As Emma describes, it is a gentle invitation to not buy clothes for 10 weeks. The challenge encourages participants to use the time to reflect on your relationship to clothes and consumption and journal about your experience. My 10 weeks started on August 31st.

• Week 1: The first week went by easily, I didn’t really notice it. I think partially because I was still basking in the glow of recent purchases.
• Week 2: The second week I became more aware of how many messages I was receiving daily encouraging me to buy – emails from 10+ brands in my inbox, tips from influencers about a favorite item being on sale with a quick swipe-up link. So I took the detox a bit further and unsubscribed from promotional emails and unfollowed almost 20 women who were using their account primarily as an advertising platform.
• Week 3: In place of the consumption-oriented accounts I had unfollowed, I started following some wonderful women sharing their experiences and learning around slow fashion and thrifted styles. I also was very tempted to break down and get the Vote tee from Madewell that came back in stock, knowing my detox won’t end until after the election. But I realized there are other ways I can encourage others to engage in this election that are more meaningful.
• Week 4: To be continued…

What can we do?

I’ll share an update later on about my experience with the Fashion Detox. In the meantime, here are some of the strategies I have been trying to practice. I know there is more and better to be done always, I know a couple people who even sew their own clothes which is so impressive.

• Reduce – Love what you have
  • Audit your closet, you might find a long lost treasure that feels like new again or that you can style in a new way.
  • Take care of your clothes so they last longer. Air drying your clothes is often better for them and uses way less energy (none) compared to the dryer.
• Reduce – Buy less and (sometimes) spend more
  • Instead of following trends that will only last for a season, choose classic pieces that will be ‘in’ for years.
  • Buying higher quality “investment” pieces that last longer.
  • Check fabrics for sneaky plastics. Synthetic fibers like nylon, rayon, and polyester, are derived from petroleum just like any other plastic and will live for hundreds of years in a landfill without degrading.
  • No more faux leather. “Vegan” leather seems like a good thing but it’s really fabric (usually polyester) coated with polyurethane. The worst part is faux leather goods will crack and peel after a few years, hastening their trip to the garbage.
• Reuse
  • Shop local thrift stores and consignment shops. Some of my favorite pieces I found for a fraction of the original retail price at thrift stores, including from J.Crew, Ann Taylor Loft, Banana Republic, Hunter Boots, TopShop, and Ralph Lauren.
  • There are also lots of virtual resale shops like ThredUp and PoshMark. GreenMatters compiled a list of Black-owned vintage shops you can shop online.
  • Renting can be a great way to get high-end pieces, especially for specific event like a wedding. I used to use Rent the Runway pretty regularly but pulled back when a friend shared reports that they were treating workers poorly during the pandemic.
• Recycle
  • To reduce the amount of new resources extracted to make clothes, support companies using recycled materials.
  • Girlfriend Collective also has a program to accept old Girlfriend gear, recycle it into new pieces, and you get a store credit.
  • Donate or sell your clothes so they can be worn again.

What are some ways you have tried or are considering to reduce the waste you produce? What about in travel? I would love to hear in the comments.

“We don’t need a handful of people doing zero waste perfectly. We need millions of people doing it imperfectly.“

Anne Marie Bonneau, The Zero Waste Chef