Shopaholics Anonymous
If you want to adopt a sustainable approach to fashion, you have to kick your shopping addiction.
From the moment I deposited my first paycheck at age 14, I was hooked. The money was burning a proverbial hole in my pocket. Clothing and fashion had always excited me, and, armed for the first time with my own spending money, I was unstoppable in my pursuit of the latest trends. I wanted it all.
Fast fashion has taught us to value quantity of clothing over quality. In the intervening years since that first fateful paycheck, I amassed a vast wardrobe filled with clothes I couldn’t exactly afford and certainly didn’t need. Shopping was a past-time, a hobby, an act of leisure—not something I did only when I was seeking a specific item for a specific purpose. It wasn’t about the item itself so much as it was about the thrill of the chase. Never mind that the end result was a disorganized, chaotic closet and the constant, pervasive feeling that I still had nothing to wear—I was, for quite a long time, addicted to shopping.
We are perpetually inundated with demands from corporations to spend money all day, every day, in order to keep the machinery of capitalism operational. Even if we don’t actually have a need for anything specific at a given moment, relentless advertising somehow manages to convince us that our lives are incomplete without a specific type of lipstick or shapewear or scarf. Brands have brilliantly learned to manipulate our cognitive reward pathways to ensure that we are constantly on alert for “surprise sales” and “insider deals” that will compel us to spend money on things we don’t necessarily even want or need. It would be impressive if it wasn’t so diabolical and cynical.
When I decided to dress myself more sustainably, I learned that the key to reducing your negative impact on the planet and on the supply chain is actually to buy less. Let me tell you, that was one bitter pill to swallow. Shopping for clothes is, unfortunately, almost a personality trait of mine. I have a stressful job. Shopping is one of the ways I cope with that stress.
Well, guess what? Time to develop some better coping mechanisms.
Because contributing to the demand for the mass-production of poor quality garments that end up in a landfill after two uses is not cute. Nor is spending your hard-earned money on clothing items that are arbitrarily priced higher than they deserve to be, having been manufactured through exploitative labor practices that don’t pay a fair, living wage to the garment workers, thereby perpetuating the cycle of poverty for vulnerable people in impoverished communities (mostly women and children) while making corporations richer.
So, instead of passively browsing clothing websites for things that catch my eye, I started creating outfit vision boards. I thought about what I wanted a casual, laid-back outfit to look like or what I would wear to work if I had unlimited funds and everything I wanted was available in my size. Starting with the idealized version allowed me to then assess my current closet (after I had donated/sold all the items I no longer wear and are inconsistent with my values) and identify which items were close to the template I had envisioned. If I didn’t have an item that could conceivably fit the vision, I added it to a list of things to shop for.
Here’s an example:
Jacket: Andrew Marc (second-hand), $166 (originally $695) // Boots: Doc Martens, $205 // Bag: Stella McCartney, $1252 // Jeans: Maison Margiela, $343 // Tee: Tradesy, $54 // Cuff: Crash, $142 // Necklace: Soko, $138 // Earrings: Soko, $68
Note that I am (sadly) not being paid to advertise for any of these brands.
I love a band t-shirt, and have several already, including this Led Zeppelin tee. I also own those Doc Martens (I now recognize that the brand is problematic, but I bought these long before I knew that). The remainder of the outfit can be adapted from items I currently own, with the exception of the jewelry items, since most of my jewelry is gold, rather than silver. Developing a strategy like this has allowed me to be more disciplined when online shopping, rather than my previous approach of adding whatever items I liked to my shopping cart without any regard for whether it was something I “needed” or not.
Which brings me to my next point: try to meaningfully define what you mean when you say you “need” something. You need to eat. You don’t need an Yves Saint Laurent clutch. (I’m addressing myself.) You may want the Yves Saint Laurent clutch. But the fact that you’re even thinking about it as an object of desire is a manifestation of your immense privilege, and not a reflection of an actual human need that has to be fulfilled for survival. Language is important.
Back to shopaholics anonymous. Once items are added to the list, I can then take the time to go through the places I like to shop and methodically select an item that is 1) cost-effective, 2) well-made, 3) consistent with my aesthetic, and 4) unlikely to end up in a landfill. Let’s break that down:
Cost-effective. The price of slow fashion is prohibitive to many people. It’s certainly much less expensive to shop at Forever 21 than it is to shop at most of the places on my list. Fast fashion brands know this, and they exploit it. If you’re someone like myself who has the means, however, you can liberate yourself from the clutches of fast fashion and buy fewer, better, more expensive items that last longer. Does that mean you have to buy a $2,000 dress? Of course not. Many of the sites at which I shop have reasonably priced items (again, “reasonable” is a relative term depending on your income and other financial obligations) and sale offerings. Does it mean you have to buy fewer things? Yes. Yes it does.
Well-made. I’ve begun to understand that luxury items aren’t luxurious because they’re made by a coveted brand or sporting a specific logo; they’re luxurious if—and only if—they’re made with reverence and craftsmanship by a skilled individual who is making the garment under conditions that allow them to live with dignity, using high-quality materials that aren’t plastic derivatives and don’t pollute water supplies with poisonous dyes.
Consistent with my aesthetic. This is the most challenging part of the process, since the earthy, soft, flowing styles of most eco-friendly brands aren’t for me. I prefer structured, fitting, glamorous, edgy clothes in dark or bold colors. I’ve managed to find a few items at a few stores, as well as a handful of brands whose overall aesthetic is close enough to mine to make it work, but this is an ongoing struggle.
Unlikely to end up in a landfill. A key phrase that comes up often is “circular fashion”, in which an item is repurposed after it’s reached the end of its life, rather than undergoing the labor-intensive process of simply recycling. Recycling, while commendable, still expends energy and resources. There are many amazing brands that are repurposing old leather, car parts, and even residual bomb materials to make their goods, but you still have to think about what’s going to happen to the item when you’re finished with it. Will it be an heirloom? Will you sell it? Will you turn it into a sweater for your dog?
Here’s another example, this time for a work-appropriate look (I have a very conservative job).
Suit: Versace (vintage), $161 // Bag: Stella McCartney, $2,205 // Blouse: St. Roche, $225 // Shoes: Gucci (second-hand), $550 // Earrings: Hazel and Rose, $190 // Ring: Wolf and Badger, $91
While the color is bolder than a standard black or navy, the overall look is structured, feminine, and traditional enough to avoid ruffling any feathers in my work environment. Each item is classic and can be donated, resold, or otherwise regifted. Nothing is particularly “trendy” or likely to be rendered obsolete anytime soon. The jewelry, particularly the earrings, add a touch of playfulness without going overboard. While I won’t necessarily buy these specific items, the vision board gives me a sense of what I’m actually looking for so that when I do come across something that fits this aesthetic and checks all of the points on the above checklist, I can make a thoughtful and intentional purchase that won’t sit in a sad pile in the back of my closet, never to see the light of day.
Have you managed to overcome your shopping addiction? Have you fallen off the wagon and bought a tie-dye lounge set that you’re never going to wear again? What did you replace your shopping addiction with (hopefully not cigarettes, since those are bad for the environment and your health too…)?
