Tim is a Melbourne fashion writer currently completing their Master in Publishing and Communications.
Cover image: Tim Mitchell
From H&M to Gucci, it seems that everyone is dabbling in cruelty-free carbon neutrality. Every fashion week this year has had a mass discussion about high-end offsetting and home-grown disruption.
Miuccia Prada is a staunch anti-fur advocate. Alessandro Michelle released a carbon-neutral collection for Spring 2020. Viktor and Rolf have been crafting seasons from offcuts since 2016.
In a cultural moment in which months of media discourse can be devoted to plastic straws and vegan activism, it makes complete sense that the fashion industry is stepping up. Reducing emissions, wastage, and cruelty will keep brands popular, profitable, and protected from the discourse.
I place particular emphasis on profitable.
Decades of political discourse about pollution and climate change has placed the focus (and the blame) on reckless consumer habits. In this same time-span, fashion journalists and bloggers have maintained the stance that what you wear and what you consume defines who you are.
These two rhetorical positions have congealed into hundreds of articles emphasising the importance of avoiding fast fashion, recycling old clothes, and putting your wallet where your ethics are.
These articles aren’t wrong about the harms caused by the fashion industry – textile production is responsible for 1.2 billion tonnes of greenhouse gas emissions per year. In Australia, we produce 6,000 kilos of fashion waste every 10 minutes.
But the situation is more nuanced, and more dispiriting, than this framing suggests. Let’s take a look at the three main strategies for ethical consumption fashion journalism is offering us.
1. Humane and sustainable fabrics
Faux furs and leathers will be the standard in a decade. They almost are already.
As the fabric quality increases and the state of the world declines, it will become unfathomable for anyone to continue using the real thing. But preventing slaughter comes at the expense of clean air and water.
The by-products of faux fur are toxic emissions, microparticles of plastic, and long, wildlife-choking fibres. With the exception of specialist breeds like mink, real fur is consistently better for the environment.
Similarly, recycled plastic reduces the extraction and processing of crude oil, but continues to pollute the environment.
Every time a garment is produced, and each time it is washed, thousands of toxic microfibers enter the oceans. They can react with and absorb other toxic compounds, creating poisons that travel all the way up the food chain.
There could be innovations in the production of synthetic fabrics coming, but we don’t really have time to wait for them. And besides, there are so many more considerations we need to make.
2. Local production and ethical sourcing
So – synthetic fabrics are toxic. Maybe the solution is to seek out natural fibres and turn away from fur and leather altogether?
If those fibres are cotton and linen, they may need to be recycled too. The plants they are made from require thousands upon thousands of litres of water.
Those designs should be locally sourced too – making textiles and designs sustainably won’t offset the emissions of transporting them internationally.
This deeper level of concern about ecological impact is what drives the development of ethical brands like Pact and Kowtow. These brands are local, eco-friendly, and focus on basics.
As such, they corner a market of consumers looking for a wardrobe of low-impact clothing they won’t need to replace.
These brands are far more expensive, and less accessible for people who are time poor. It’s true that good quality pieces will cost you less than cheaper items you replace every few months. If you don’t earn enough to budget that kind of purchase, though, there may not be a choice.
But it’s not just about accessibility and privilege. What I find insidious about this new cottage industry is its size, and rate of growth.
The implicit mission of starting an ethical company is that of providing an alternative to an unethical industry. But if you do so in competition with other, similar ethical companies, then you’re contributing to the culture of hyper-consumption you’re meant to undercut.
These kinds of capital-driven solutions to waste and pollution aren’t going to work- even if the entire industry became carbon neutral, we still need to drastically decrease the amount we consume.
The final nail in that hypothetical coffin is the sad fact that there are no existing standards for the word “sustainable”. There are no national or international regulations.
It’s painfully obvious that H&M's sustainable line is functionally meaningless given how much will be produced, and that it will be sold alongside the existing product.
I’ve worked alongside some of Australia’s most ethical brands; believe me when I say that the bar is underground. Single use plastic bags at supermarkets were the tip of the plastic iceberg.
I’m not saying we shouldn’t buy from these companies. They just can’t fix the fashion industry. The most they can offer you is a wardrobe that lets you sleep at night.
3. Recycling, Renting, and Reusing
Ok! So! Let’s just stop buying new stuff altogether. Right? That’s what we should do.
Op shops and vintage stores have been great ways to minimise your footprint for decades. There are new collectives opening that repair and redistribute clothing. And now you can resell and rent clothing on Facebook Marketplace and apps like Depop!
These are the kinds of community organised initiatives that could genuinely create a sustainable fashion lifestyle. They scratch the ethical itch in a way that traditional shopping can’t do.
This could be it. This could be the way we collectively make up for our teenage adventures at Topshop.
It won’t do much more than that, though. Even if the upcycling movement gains steam, it can’t replace the fashion industry.
Because – in the immortal, paraphrased words of an old co-worker I should text more – “no one ever dismantled capitalism by starting a commune”. Taking ourselves out of the system won’t change it.
There are billions of people who will continue to buy new clothes. They may not care (or may not be able to afford to care) if they were sustainably produced.
Buying the organic cottons, locally made t-shirts and $2000 faux fur scarves may not do much, but at least it could nudge brands in the right direction.
So, what’s it going to take?
Using your wallet to effect change won’t work in an industry with little to no regulation.
It certainly won’t if a corporation owns both the fast fashion outlet you turned away from, and the ethical “alternative” you chose.
I support sustainable shopping, upcycling, and choosing to reward companies that go carbon neutral. But these measures are stopgaps for climate grief, not a solution to the fashion industry’s structural failings.
If you want to make a meaningful change, you are going to have to vote for it and protest for it.
The fashion industry will not change quickly, or much. Governments need to legislate top-down measures, and hold companies vigorously accountable. The individual’s responsibility is to demand this in the polling booth and in the streets.
We should not take seriously any fashion blogger that says otherwise.