Fashion Revolution Week 2020: the fast fashion supply chain is endangering lives during a global pandemic

It’s the first day of Fashion Revolution Week 2020, and despite a global pandemic and self-isolation restrictions in many participating countries, this vital week of action is still going ahead, raising awareness of the problems with the fashion industry and encouraging everyone who loves clothes to call for change.

Cheap fashion might seem like a harmless indulgence when the COVID-19 virus has altered our day-to-day life so drastically, but fast fashion brands are needlessly endangering lives in a number of different ways during this health crisis, and Fashion Revolution Week was actually started in response to a tragic loss of life for which the fashion industry was wholly responsible.

On the 24th April 2013, the Rana Plaza garment factory in Dhaka, Bangladesh, collapsed, killing 1138 people and injuring around 2500. The factory had been manufacturing clothing for many global fashion brands, and workers had raised concerns about the structural integrity of the building but were ordered to continue working or face losing a month’s salary. Most major fashion brands have outsourced production of their clothing to middle- or low-income countries: that's what makes fast fashion so cheap. But workers are barely paid enough to live on, and as well as dangerous working conditions they also face harassment and bullying from managers, who are under pressure from big brands to deliver garments faster and cheaper than ever before. 

Another danger they face is the insecure and precarious nature of their employment, and without union recognition every garment worker is vulnerable to losing their job at short notice. And that’s exactly what’s happened as a result of COVID-19; as non-essential businesses across the US and Europe were ordered to close to reduce the risk of spreading the virus, fast fashion brands started cancelling orders, without paying their suppliers. Many factories had finished making the garments, but with brands refusing to pay and no new orders coming in, factory bosses had to start laying off their workers. Garment work offers no opportunities for saving money, and without the safety net of a welfare state many garment workers now face starvation. 

Even here in the UK fast fashion brands are putting their employees at risk. Many brands are still trading online, but their fulfilment warehouses are not being run in a way that makes it possible for workers to remain an appropriate distance apart. This non-essential service is potentially increasing transmission of the virus. Again, workers are being forced to choose between their jobs (and the money they need to pay their bills and feed their families) and their health and safety. 

None of this is acceptable. The pursuit of profit at any cost during a global pandemic is a new low even for the fashion industry, which tends to treat its employees as expendable at the best of times. Fashion Revolution is calling on everyone who loves clothes but finds this behaviour appalling to act with them: to demand transparency from their favourite brands and a better life for all our fellow humans who make our clothes. 

You can join in by taking a photo of your favourite clothes with the label showing, then post it on social media, tagging the brand and asking #WhoMadeMyClothes ? The more pressure from customers, the more brands are likely to feel compelled to change. You can also send a letter to a brand expressing your concerns - Fashion Revolution has a template on their website.

I was looking forward to attending as many Fashion Revolution Week events as I could, but self-isolation rules mean I’m staying at home, with nothing but a huge haberdashery cabinet of fabrics and old clothes to keep me company. Since I can’t go to any exhibitions, I decided to create my own, in my hallway. I’ve created five works of wearable art, each of them illustrating problems with the fashion industry. The first, Supply Chain, is the garment illustrating this blog post. I wanted to name (some of) the problems with fast fashion and their consequences - the outsourcing and cost-cutting that has led to exploitation and misery for workers. These problems link together to trap garment workers in modern slavery - it’s impossible to simply “find a better job” if you have no savings, are dependent on your place of employment for accommodation and food, or if the only jobs going are the same, or worse, than the one you have. Currently, garment workers only receive 1-4% of the total cost of a garment, and the owners of several fast fashion brands are billionaires. The fashion industry can afford to pay its workers a fair wage, but it’s up to us to demand that it does.

Supply Chain is made from leftover fabric from one of the layers of my sister’s wedding dress, secondhand embroidery thread, and an unraveled sweater.

Our fashion choices can speak volumes about us, but we all need to be part of the conversation

Our clothing is a powerful method of non-verbal communication, and can have a really positive impact if we are able to make it work for us. But what do we do if the fashion industry isn't giving us the chance to say what we want to say? 

I've written about about the limitations of fast fashion when it comes to fitting or flattering our bodies, but I've also written about the fun we can have with our clothes, even indulging in some closet cosplay to give us the confidence of our favourite fictional characters when the going gets tough. I strongly believe that clothes should make you feel comfortable, both physically and psychologically, but I also think clothing works well as armour, equipping us to deal with challenging situations by projecting an image of strength, competence or resilience that perhaps we need a bit of help to feel authentically. 

I've been dealing with both physical and mental health issues recently, and sometimes the thought of everything I need to do in a day makes it almost impossible to get out of bed. But I know that flopping around in my pyjamas will only make me feel worse, so every evening before I go to bed I lay out a nice outfit, and every morning I force myself to put it on, to brush my hair, apply some make-up. Seeing the person I want to be looking back at me in the mirror reminds me that I am more than my problems, I have the strength to cope with difficult situations and work towards the goals I have set for myself. It might sound shallow, but looking good makes me feel much better about myself; it makes me feel like I should be out and about in the world, rather than huddling at home. 

My relationship with my clothes has changed and evolved since I became a more conscious consumer; taking part in Labour behind the Label's Six Items Challenge cemented my view of my favourite clothes as valuable and versatile rather than disposable, and while I'm thinking much more carefully about the clothes I buy new now, I also apply the same scrutiny to the clothes I already own. If my clothes aren't looking their best, or making me look my best, I alter them, mend them, or decide they weren't really meant for me and take them to a clothes swap or charity shop. I remember my dad making fun of the designer logo trend that was popular in the 90s ("they should be paying me if they want me to advertise their brand!"); it wasn't a fad I ever bought into, but I do want to be a good advert now for ethical and sustainable fashion. I want people to see that alternatives to fast fashion are smart and stylish, and to dispel the outdated and inaccurate stereotypes that occasionally still linger around eco-friendly or second-hand clothes. All the outfits I've worn this week feature clothes from swaps, second-hand shops, or are rejected manufacturing samples or things I have made myself! 

The fact that the clothes I am now choosing to buy are manufactured in ways that align with my personal values adds another feel-good factor to my wardrobe. I know I'm trying my hardest to have the smallest possible negative impact on other people and the environment; my values are lived, not performative. Ethical fashion blogger Tolly Dolly Posh makes a strong case for ethical and sustainable fashion as a feminist movement, and points out "FEMINIST" t-shirts need to be more than just a slogan stamped on a shirt that has been made in a sweat shop. This was certainly a concern for my friends at The Suffragette City, who didn't want their "Same Shit, Different Century" fundraising t-shirts and bags (created to raise money for Abortion Rights) to be asking for a better world through their slogan only. They chose to partner with Rapanui (through Teemill) a company who make their clothes and bags from organic cotton in an ethically accredited wind-powered factory.

There is an element of privilege here, because ethical products are often more expensive than their fast fashion equivalents, but there are also vast, global issues under the surface: if the average consumer's wages are so low that we are unable to clothe ourselves or our families without buying items made in sweatshops, should we be clamouring for more sweatshop-made clothing, or for global change that results in less wage inequality so that we can all have nice things? Ethical and sustainable brands are usually run by young entrepreneurs, keen to make a difference but aware that they have bills to pay. High street fast fashion brands are run by some of the richest people on the planet, who somehow still can't afford to pay their workers a fair wage. I know who I would rather give my money to! 

Ethical and sustainable fashion can be inaccessible for reasons other than cost; this Refinery 29 article features plus-size fashion bloggers discussing the problems they have faced trying to find clothes that fit their values and their bodies. I received a detailed and thoughtful email from my aunt, a savvy charity shop bargain finder (it must run in the family, my sister and cousin have a talent for it too!) who wants to find ethical fashion for older women at a price point she can afford on a pension. Although the new brands I have been looking at definitely seem to have more diverse models, it’s important for all customers to see themselves represented, so that ethical and sustainable fashion will be seen as the norm, as something for everyone, rather than as a niche purchase for people with money and the time to go searching online for the perfect piece of clothing. 

So what can we do to get the clothes we want, in a way that is good for everyone? We can ask for what we want! Contact small brands and ask if they can make something in your size (some of these brands work on a bespoke model in the first place to avoid the wastage of unwanted stock, so it might be possible without a large increase in price), or ask what their plans are for including your size in their range in the future. Sometimes a brand has to start with a capsule collection in limited sizes in order to fund a roll-out of a variety of sizes and styles later on. We should also contact bigger brands and ask them to increase workers' wages, or to use sustainable materials. We tend to demand more of smaller brands with accessible customer service when we have spent more (which is absolutely our right as consumers), but blame ourselves for buying cheap clothes that don't fit or are poorly made, and are more likely to give or throw away the offending item rather than complaining. Multinationals need to be made aware of their mistakes too; they are not going to change unless they think customers won't buy their products any more. 

It used to be normal to be demanding when it came to our clothes: if we were having an outfit made by a dressmaker or tailor we would select specific fabric, fastenings and trims, have our measurements taken, come back for fittings, and insist on quality materials and finish. The price we pay for low cost fast fashion isn't just the damage to the environment or the exploitation of workers, it's that, unless we are very lucky and exactly the same size and proportions as a shop's fit model, nothing will ever fit us perfectly. Fast and cheap also has an impact on innovation and vision; it's hard for designers to produce unique and inspiring work that pushes the world of fashion forward when they are being asked for eight collections per year instead of two, with high street brands following suit and cutting down on design details to save time and money.

We can support the brands that help us to look and feel like the best versions of ourselves, and ask the brands that are letting us down to do better. I'll leave you with this quote from author and sustainable living advocate Anne Lappe:

“Every time you spend money, you’re casting a vote for the kind of world you want”

"Nice things for everyone!" - the positive message of Fashion Revolution Week

Most of us are familiar with the ways fast fashion can make us feel bad about ourselves, from unforgiving changing room lighting and mirrors, to confusing sizing or unflattering trends. Fashion Revolution Week sought to expose other unattractive aspects of this global and complex industry, and some of their statistics were pretty alarming. For example, did you know that the clothes thrown away over the course of one year in the UK would fill Wembley Stadium? Faced with sobering facts and figures, it's easy to become despondent, assuming that as individual consumers we have no power; and defensive, when our own choices are often limited by cost, size or availability. However, Fashion Revolution Week sought to convey a positive message of consumer-led change for good, promoting transparency within the industry and encouraging us to value and care for our clothes. 

I went to a couple of talks during Fashion Revolution Week and participated in several online discussions. The focus was really positive and everyone seemed engaged and well informed, but I realised there was an element of 'preaching to the choir' when I took part in a chat set up by an organisation that didn't have sustainability as its focus, and realised I'd been in a bit of an echo chamber. My (hastily tweeted) statement: “I'm not buying new clothes, I'm buying second-hand and will thoughtfully replace when clothes wear out", was questioned, with other participants making the argument that the fashion industry provides employment and that a boycott could hurt workers (I'm not criticising the question, it's a valid point and one I had thought about a lot). I was struggling with Twitter as a medium for nuanced discussion of a complicated subject during this chat; If I had more than 140 characters to express myself, I might have been able to emphasise that I meant impulse purchases rather than clothes in general, or that I already had a vast wardrobe that really didn't need that one extra blouse or dress. I wasn't suggesting a boycott, merely a reduction in overconsumption. 

Until a global basic income becomes a reality (I see nothing wrong with the occasional utopian fantasy) jobs are vital for people the world over to meet their basic needs in a capitalist system, but these jobs should not come at the expense of health or dignity. The Rana Plaza factory collapse in Bangladesh in 2013 caused over 1000 completely preventable deaths, not to mention countless injuries and traumas. Factory workers in Cambodia are killed by their government for trying to form trades unions. Fast fashion has resulted in a race to the bottom when it comes to wages and workers rights, and people (overwhelmingly women) in poor countries are paying the price. The environmental consequences of overproduction and overconsumption of fast fashion cannot be overstated either; when so many clothes are destined for landfill after only being worn once or twice, how can we claim that a job making these clothes is meaningful when we disrespect both the workers themselves and the work they produce? 

I was concerned that trying to express this in only 140 characters made me sound negative, judgemental and antagonistic, and I genuinely don't want to be any of these things. I understand that low wages are an issue here in the UK, not just in the global south; not everyone can afford the premium prices of slow fashion brands. At the Fashion Debates panel discussion I went to on Thursday, Tansy Hoskins spoke on the importance of not disengaging from the industry, but imagining a brighter future for everyone involved. If workers were paid fairly for producing quality garments, rather than racing to produce huge quantities of cheap clothing, we could work on the issues of overproduction and overconsumption  at the same time. Labour behind the Label's research suggests that for many workers, the national minimum wage as set by their government does not equal a living wage in the cities where jobs are available (this should ring bells for anyone living and working in London), but because living costs are still not comparable with those in the west, a decent standard of living would not contribute to a significant rise in the cost of clothing if a living wage was paid. It’s worth bearing in mind that, according to the Forbes Rich List, four of the one hundred richest people in the world own high street fashion brands; their combined wealth is estimated at £133bn. Something is incredibly wrong here, and we can all work together to make it right. 

If I've learned anything from Fashion Revolution week, it's that the organisers, as well as sustainable fashion brands and bloggers, really love fashion and want it to be a force for good. Designers and makers are striving to create clothes that will feel and look amazing as well as trying to reduce fashion's impact on people and the environment. We don't want to live in the woods and wear burlap sacks; burlap would be so itchy, and we'd have to ask #whomademysack and probably wouldn't be happy with the answer to that question either.

At the Fashion Debates panel, Ayesha Mustafa spoke eloquently and passionately about the importance of valuing artisan skills in the same way we value academic education, as changing our mindsets about the value we place on certain types of work can have positive effects on families and whole communities, not just on the workers themselves.

Fashion Revolution Week's motto was "Be Curious. Find Out. Do Something", and I think this is a great starting point. All of us, or at least the majority of us, can afford a few minutes to ask questions of the brands we rely on for our basic wardrobe staples. Fast fashion brands aren't going to radically change unless we demand it, and at the moment sustainable fashion brands only account for a tiny fraction of the market share. We need to re-engage with the idea of solidarity, and recognise that we are not so very different from the people we expect to work for a pittance to make cheap goods for us. They probably long for holiday days too, and a chance to spend quality time with their families. Tansy Hoskins finished off the Fashion Debates panel with a radical but feel-good statement that seems like a great way to sum up my reflections on Fashion Revolution Week: Proper distribution of wealth would mean nice things for everyone!

Alternative Outfit Inspiration Part 1: The Personal (Style) Is Political

I've just come to the end of my  Six Items Challenge raising money for Labour Behind the Label, and over the Easter weekend I've gone from only being allowed six different items of clothing (five dresses, one cardigan) to having the entire contents of my wardrobe available to me again. The possibilities are endless! Except.... sometimes they feel like they aren't, and it would be all too easy fall back into wearing the same comfortable, familiar combinations of clothing, and the things I told myself I absolutely would make an effort to wear continue to languish at the back of the wardrobe. 

There are plenty of ways to get the most out of your wardrobe: regular tidying and sorting so you remember what's in there, swapping unwanted items with friends or taking them to a charity shop, trying to stop the endless cycle of buying new things that look a lot like a lot of the old things. One of the things I've always found brings out my most creative and thoughtful side is some sort of clothing challenge, whether it's to raise money for charity (like the Six Items Challenge) or just for my own amusement, to make me think about the contents of my wardrobe and how I can put them together in new and exciting ways. 

The 'Suffragette' themed outfit from 2015 I shared on Instagram as part of the Eco Fashion Challenge

I am currently participating in the #ecofashionchallenge on  Instagram , and Facebook started reminding me of a challenge I set myself in 2015; to wear outfits inspired by aspects of the British political system in the run up to the General Election. I joked that I was "cosplaying the election", but apart from putting together a 'femme' version of the eerily similar outfit all the party leaders wore to look 'casual', I didn't dress as any specific person. Instead my outfits (accompanied by a little bit of fairly impartial commentary when I put up photos on Facebook) were inspired by campaign talking points (the NHS, the Welfare State, the EU) and the idiosyncrasies of our political system, right down to the physical structure of Parliament itself (did you know they have falcons to keep the pigeons off the roof?). Some of the outfits worked better than others, some were a bit too silly ('Mer-people of the Firth of Clyde Against Trident' sadly didn't make it out of the house), but I wore and enjoyed some clothes that hadn't seen the light of day in a while, and having to write the captions helped me to consolidate my thoughts about certain political issues. 

Too much activism? Or too much glittery tail? 

At this point in the original draft of this post, I headed away from politics and started writing about the style inspiration I take from my favourite fictional heroes. But the day before I was planning to post this, a General Election was suddenly called, and a re-write was needed. I'll be singing the praises of 'closet cosplay' in part 2 of this series of posts, because right now I need to talk about rights, and how ours are more closely linked to those of the garment workers I have been raising money for over the last six weeks than perhaps we would like to think.

In the past I have tried to keep my posts and social media activity politically neutral, for fear of offending anyone who held different opinions, but the time for that is long gone. Our complacency over the rights and privileges we have (the right to vote, free healthcare, employment rights, paid holidays and sick pay for employees, beautiful countryside to enjoy on our days off) has led us to devalue them and take them for granted, assuming they will always be  here. The rights we enjoy now were hard-fought, hard-won and the things we value will only continue to exist if we fight for them. Politics affects everything in my life, worrying about it having an effect on my wellbeing is not overreacting. We have a Prime Minister, intent on increasing her majority in parliament, who doesn't care about employment rights, access to healthcare or the environment.

For someone who is passionately concerned about reducing my impact on the world by making choices that might not be the easiest but will benefit the world in the long run, politicians playing selfish, costly games for short-term gains is  horrifying to me. I truly believe we can find a balance where we can all learn to tread lightly on the face of the earth while dismantling the damaging dichotomy of "strivers vs skivers" that keep us divided and fighting amongst ourselves.

So I'll carry on fighting for eco-friendly, sustainable fashion. I'll fight alongside anyone who shares my values. But I might also be adding some new political-themed outfits to my Instagram feed, and this time, I'll say what I really think.

Around six months ago I wrote this article for The Boomerang Press, and with their permission I'm reposting it here, as an introduction to why I wanted to start up a style blog that rejects 'fast fashion' and aims to find the ways in which clothes can be expressive, exciting and non-exploitative.

Are we being assimilated by fast fashion?

Fashion has never been more affordable or more accessible, but as it becomes more generic and disposable, are we losing touch with one of the most enjoyable aspects of clothing; its ability to help us express our identity? Whether we like it or not, the clothing we choose to wear (or have to wear) on a day to day basis says a lot about our identity. Even if we don’t have to wear an official uniform for work, we often end up choosing an unofficial uniform; expressing our affiliation with a sports team, a band or a subculture group. We can express a complete indifference to, or an in-depth knowledge of the latest trends with our fashion choices. For me, this performative aspect is one of the most enjoyable things about clothing; being able to choose who I want to be in the morning and dressing accordingly.

When a t-shirt costs the same as a coffee, it would seem that our options for self-expression through fashion were limitless, but I’m not sure this is the case. I’ve compiled my ridiculous dressing-up box of a wardrobe over 20 years (a velvet blazer, bought with my first clothing allowance at 14, has somehow survived numerous wardrobe culls; some undertaken for reasons of space and some out of sheer embarrassment), and for me the thrill of the chase goes hand in hand with my love of clothing. I’ve saved up for party dresses, scoured charity shops and thrift stores, swapped items with friends and made my own dresses and accessories. I loved the idea of fast fashion, and I still have plenty of items from the cheaper end of the high street that have washed and worn well.

But I’ve recently fallen out of love with fashion, and fast fashion in particular, as I’ve seen the imagination and creativity that is so vital to good design edged out in favour of quick turnover and profit. Intricate detailing, pattern matching or good pattern placement takes up time during the making process and uses up more fabric, and good quality, durable fabrics and fastenings are more expensive to produce. All these things seem to have gone missing from the high street recently, replaced by vast numbers of simple-shaped garments, made to increasingly arbitrary sizes.

Fast fashion feels like a placebo; the one thing we can afford in great quantities when larger long-lasting purchases are almost laughably out of our reach. But it’s doing an increasingly bad job of keeping us happy; we may be able to fill our wardrobes with clothes but none of them were designed with us in mind, and none of them really fit. Sizing for women’s clothing in particular varies from shop to shop, and leaves a lot of shoppers feeling miserable; either because they weren’t the size they were expecting to be, or because there was nothing suitable for their body shape at all. We end up feeling that there is something wrong with our bodies because they aren’t the right shape for the clothes; it takes courage to argue that there is something wrong with the clothes because they do not fit our bodies.

While fast fashion may have created the illusion of making clothes shopping more democratic, at least in the West, cheap clothing comes at great cost to the environment and to the wellbeing of garment workers abroad. Throwing garments into landfill after only a couple of wears, or buying something and never wearing it at all has become normalised, and it’s no longer possible to turn a blind eye to this. If what we wear is part of our identity, should we be so keen to shrug it off and dispose of it every time something new comes along? And as the exploitation of garment workers garners more media attention, we have to accept that if we buy in to fast fashion we are condoning this; our privileged position as first world consumers is also part of our identity.

I don’t think it’s shallow to enjoy expressing ourselves through our clothes; our fashion choices enable us to find common ground and strike up conversation. I love seeing someone wearing an obscure fandom t-shirt and thinking “I understood that reference!” At a time when we’re encouraged to present ourselves as a bland, palatable ‘personal brand’, being outrageous or unpredictable in our clothing choices is almost a subversive statement. I enjoy flouting ‘style rules’ and encourage everyone else to do the same; ignoring attempts to homogenise consumers by dictating what is or isn’t ‘appropriate’ for people of a particular size, age or gender is, in my opinion, a much better way to make clothing more democratic.