Rebellion on the High Street! Protesting fast fashion with XR Sutton

Discussing ethical and sustainable fashion with likeminded or open minded friends on social media is great, and I’m thrilled that there’s such a creative and ever-growing community of people who care about clothes, the people who make them and their impact on the environment.

But sometimes I worry that I’m preaching to the choir, that my blog posts aren’t reaching the people who I think need to read them: the people who are trapped in a cycle of buying unsatisfactory clothes and then discarding them on the off-chance that if they do this enough it will make them happy. 

So I was excited when my local Extinction Rebellion group planned an action to protest the destructive nature of fast fashion, which would take place on Sutton High Street. Not only was it a cause I care deeply about, I also felt well-versed enough in fast fashion facts to be able to contribute to the leaflets the group was preparing and even to speak on local radio about the protest. I was also curious (and a little apprehensive) about what the reaction from shoppers might be. Being confronted by the negative aspects of something you enjoy doing can bring on feelings of defensiveness, and it’s often unpleasant and uncomfortable to sit with this reality, and consider how you have contributed to the problem and what aspects of your behaviour need to change.

XR Sutton set up a table in the middle of the pedestrianised High Street outside the shopping centre on Saturday morning, and a group of protesters formed a human washing line, decorated with facts about the fast fashion industry. Other protesters surreptitiously added labels to fast fashion garments in stores, acted as human mannequins in shop windows and staged a die-in. The rest of us handed out leaflets and chatted with shoppers, and I thought it might be interesting to share some of the interactions I had during the three hours I was there.

“I’ve worked in a local charity shop for seven years. We try not to waste any donations - the rag man comes and takes any clothes we can’t sell in the shop. Another girl does the pricing - she knows all about labels. I ask her why those flip flops are £15, and she says “oh, they’re by this designer, and they are over £100 new.” I can’t believe people pay all that money for something then give it away.”

Mum: “we’re just off to a charity shop now to find a costume for my daughter, she wants to be Queen Victoria for a costume day at school.”

Me: “that sounds like fun!”

Mum: “I don’t know where to start!”

Me: “look for a big skirt, something with lace…”

Daughter (very excited): “we’re going to pad my bum with a cushion!”

Mum: *sigh*

“I don’t want a leaflet, weirdo”

Older man: “what kind of person lies in the middle of the road on a Saturday afternoon?”

Younger man with family: “well, I wouldn’t,  but I’m glad some people are, it needs to be done”

Father: “so it’s bad to buy new things?”

Me: “every garment that’s produced has a big environmental impact. If you buy secondhand or keep your clothes for longer you’re reducing that impact and helping to save the planet.”

Father (to daughter): “are you listening? Not too many new things.”

“In my young day (which was a long time ago), no one would dream of throwing clothes away. I didn’t know about the pollution though, that makes me worry. When I was a child, no one had asthma or allergies. Now they all do, because of the pollution. Something’s got to change.”

“WHY AREN’T YOU WEARING HESSIAN SACKS LIKE IN THE OLDEN DAYS?! THAT WOMAN OVER THERE IS WEARING A NICE DRESS! YOU’RE ALL HYPOCRITES!!

“It’s so nice that you’ve got drawing here for the kids to do. We took them to Marble Arch during the April protests and they loved it. We didn’t know there was a local group, we’d be really interested in joining”.

“I don’t want to disrupt the die-in but can you make sure they stay hydrated?”

And probably my most frequent interaction:

Shopper: “so what’s this all about then?”

Me: “we’re trying to raise awareness about the problems with fast fashion; we’re encouraging people to think about whether they really need something new, or whether they could buy secondhand or vintage, or swap clothes with friends.”

Shopper: “I love going to charity shops! I got this *proudly displays item of clothing* from a charity shop, it was a bargain!”

Overall, despite some people flinching away from the Extinction Rebellion leaflets as though they were radioactive, the reactions were more positive than negative. Some people just wanted to ignore us, and the woman who yelled at me left me speechless because her reaction was the exact opposite to what I had been expecting. The complaint I’m used to hearing in discussions about changing our shopping habits is “why can’t I have nice things?” as though sustainable fashion is the very opposite of a nice thing. My fellow fashion activists and all the amazing sustainable brands I know of are all doing their utmost to show that this is not the case, and that sustainable fashion is just what all fashion ought to be - creative, beautiful and kind to people and the planet. To someone who knows quite a bit about fashion history, the “hessian sacks” comment was almost comically ignorant - in the past, clothes were some of the most expensive and treasured possessions a person could own, and were well cared for. Even the “sackcloth” dresses of the Depression era were made from tightly-woven cotton flour sacks (which the flour companies would often print with novelty patterns as they knew the sacks would be re-used for clothing). But there’s no chance of telling someone some interesting facts when all they want to do is have a shout. 

The protest, and the reaction to Extinction Rebellion as a whole, has given me a new facet of activism to think about. Some people who are desperate not to see a change in the status quo will think that you’ve been “caught out” when they point out the fact that you still live within modern society. This is also very much at odds with the online community activism I’ve been taking part in, where the focus is on doing something rather than nothing, and making the small changes that will quickly add up. For the record, I don’t think I’m a hypocrite for wanting to change the world I live in. If I ran away to live in the woods (tempting though it might feel at times), nothing would change; industries would carry on polluting and destroying the planet, and eventually that destruction would come to the woods too. 

I had an interesting conversation with a friend later on that day about the five stages of grief, and how these could relate to people’s reactions to being confronted with the realities of climate change. While XR Sutton as a whole works on getting our local council to declare a climate emergency, and encouraging them to create meaningful change through the implementation of their environmental policies, I’m also going to be working on my personal strategy as a sustainable fashion activist. How do I respond to people’s anger, fear, disbelief and cynicism in a way that’s creative, positive and kind, and doesn’t leave me at risk of burn-out?

If you’re interested in the work that Extinction Rebellion are doing about fast fashion, you can find out more on their Twitter or Facebook.

Photos of the protest taken by fellow Sutton Rebel Bill Mudge.

The Government won't fix fast fashion. Can consumers challenge a destructive industry instead?

It’s no secret that fast fashion is bad for people and the planet. From river systems polluted with toxic dyes and the exploitation of workers at home and overseas, to microfibres from the washing of polyester clothes ending up in the food chain and even the air we breathe, our addiction to cheap clothes is causing us serious harm. 

When the Environmental Audit Committee chaired by Mary Creagh MP published its findings after an in-depth investigation of the fashion industry, many of us hoped that the government would legislate in favour of the report’s recommendations, which included a ban on incinerating or landfilling unsold stock, mandatory environmental targets for large brands and tax incentives for recycling, repairing and responsible brands. 

To the dismay of most of my Twitter timeline on Tuesday morning, the government rejected even these mild regulations in favour of allowing the industry to self-regulate. This was particularly disappointing after recent reports that fast fashion brands are not implementing the changes they had promised to. The future of the Bangladesh Accord (which aims to secure safer workplaces in the wake of the Rana Plaza factory collapse) is also uncertain, so the chance of the industry properly regulating itself is as slim as a teenage catwalk model. 

Environmentalists and climate change activists are hugely concerned about the impact that fast fashion is having on our planet, but even if you’re a fast fashion fanatic you still have reason to be worried. In Elle Magazine’s 2018 Sustainability issue, Marie-Claire Daveau, head of sustainability at Kering, gave this stark warning: “if we don’t do this now, there will be nothing around to make fashion with in 20 years”. If that doesn’t make you quake in your boots, then I don’t know how to help you. If you truly love fashion, then you know it has to change.

So what can we do? As an individual consumer with limited spending power, it’s easy to feel powerless. But if we act together, we can hit the brands doing harm where it hurts - their profits. 

Extinction Rebellion have launched a Boycott Fashion action, where participants pledge to buy no new clothes for a year. If that sounds too daunting, the Collaction Slow Fashion Season has just started, and only lasts for three months.

Both actions make it clear that only brand new fast fashion is off the table. Participants can still buy secondhand and vintage clothes and swap clothes with friends or at a clothes swap. Mending, upcycling and making new clothes is encouraged; it’s a great way of breathing new life into old clothes, and understanding the skill and hard work that goes into garment making.

But what if you really, really, really have to buy something new? Most of us don’t urgently need new clothes, but we do urgently need to change our long-term shopping habits. Instead of panic-buying the first thing we see at the last minute, we can save money in the long run and experience more satisfaction with our purchases if we put a little thought into them. 

Look into ethical and sustainable brands (I’ll put up a post soon with some links in case you don’t know where to start looking) and interrogate your reasons for buying. Is your “need” genuine and urgent (I imagine some of you are dreaming up nightmare scenarios about secondhand underwear) or are you shopping because you are bored or unhappy? Could you get the same shopping “buzz” from having a wander round the charity shops in your local area or liking clothes on Depop and Vinted rather than filling your ASOS basket? 

If you rely on a high street fashion brand for a particular bra size, for example, or your kids school uniform, write to the brand and tell them that you are concerned about the negative impact they are having on the planet. Fashion Revolution have a template letter here if you’re unsure of what to say. 

Alternatively, you can write to your MP to express your disappointment with their rejection of the EAC’s recommendations. Fashion Roundtable has a template letter here.

We need to let fast fashion retailers and the government know that we will no longer accept business as usual. Fast fashion is a recent phenomenon (it barely existed when I was a teenager!) and like any unflattering trend, it has outstayed its welcome. Most of the 20th century’s iconic fashion trends were brought about by innovation and rebellion, so say no to the status quo and challenge yourself to become an icon of rebel style!

Worn Out: the story of the clothes we throw away

Last year, people in the U.K. sent 350000 tonnes of clothes to landfill. I don’t know about you, but I find this impossible to visualise. Even breaking it down to a figure per person - approximately 5kg - it’s hard to imagine what that might look like. So I created Worn Out.

My sister and I, both recovering fast fashion addicts, had bags of clothes that we were absolutely planning to take to textile recycling. One day. When we got around to it. When we weren’t busy with something else. I combined the contents of these bags, and it turns out that this is what 5kg of clothing looks like! 

Before you ask why we didn’t donate these clothes - these weren’t clothes that charity shops or clothes swaps would accept. Threadbare pyjamas, ratty t-shirts, leggings that had burst at the seams, even (gasp!) my old knickers! These are the clothes that are most likely to end up in landfill. 

Even with the best will in the world, our clothes aren’t going to be wearable for ever. While more and more people are embracing secondhand shopping and swapping as a way of ensuring their unwanted clothes won’t go to waste, not every item of clothing is going to be a desirable pre-loved purchase. Most of us are going to end up with a collection of t-shirts, leggings, underwear or worn-out clothes that no one else wants.

While fast fashion isn’t “designed to fall apart”, the choice of cheap fabrics to keep costs down means that basic everyday clothing might be more delicate than we think it is. A washing machine cycle with a high temperature and a fast spin, or tumble drying, can wear down fabrics even faster, leading to a high turnover of clothing in our wardrobes. 

If we send these clothes for textile recycling, they are likely to be downgraded, into stuffing for pet beds, car seats or insulation. At the moment it’s a difficult process to re-use fibres from old clothes, as natural fibres need to be separated from synthetics, and most fast fashion clothing is made from a mixture of both. The shredded fibres then need to be mixed with new fibres in order to spin them into a good quality thread.

While businesses like Rapanui/Teemill and Swedish Stockings are closing the loop in their own supply chain by incentivising customers to return their worn-out clothing, this isn’t happening on a large enough scale to make our current consumption of clothes sustainable.

I’ve constructed Worn Out to show the sheer volume of fabric that could be re-used if we create a more circular fashion system. Think of the possibilities! I wanted Worn Out to look equal parts comical and overwhelming; this is a garment that wears you, and isn’t designed to look flattering (the passing resemblance to the memorable scene in Friends where Joey wears all of Chandler’s clothes isn’t entirely coincidental). The amount of clothing we throw away is absurd, and the way we are encouraged to consume clothing as though it was disposable is absurd. We can’t wear more than one outfit at once, and overconsumption isn’t making us happier or more fulfilled.

Ideally I’d like Worn Out to be an interactive piece of wearable art, something that other people can touch and even try on. It’s going to be making an appearance at the Ethical Influencers meet up and clothes swap for Fashion Revolution Week so hopefully this will be the first of many outings.

As a costume maker and a vintage fashion fan, I’m passionate about clothes as a means of storytelling. Worn Out tells a story about my wardrobe, but it's not the story of favourite clothes or treasured heirlooms. It’s the story of the hidden side of fashion, the parts we don’t show off on social media. It is partly a story of fast fashion failures; the t-shirts with warped seams, the leggings with insufficient elastic, the mistaken belief that fine jersey embellished with metal or plastic can survive a 40 degree wash and spin without ending up full of holes. But it’s also the story of the life I’ve led while wearing these clothes, and how some of them have come to the end of their useful life naturally. My body shape has changed over the years so certain bras no longer fit. Old t-shirts have been downgraded to painting clothes until they are so threadbare that paint has gone right through them. I’ve worn pyjamas for thousands of hours, despite the fact that I don’t really remember it. These clothes have kept me warm in winter, and cool in summer. Some of these clothes have travelled to different countries with me, others have never left my house.

The weight of Worn Out as it settles around your shoulders might feel like a burden, but I prefer to think of it as a reminder of our responsibilities. To look after and appreciate the clothes that hardworking people have made, and to think carefully about what happens to your clothes when you part ways with them.

In case anyone’s wondering what’s left over from Worn Out; it’s not a perfect zero waste garment but I did diligently save every scrap that didn’t make it onto the final design. This little bag of scraps creates an accessory to accompany Worn Out, and serves as a reminder that we can keep improving our ideas for a zero-waste fashion system.

Can we start a Fashion Revolution by telling new stories?

Any fashion or costume creative will tell you that design is about telling stories. You are creating a mood, setting a scene, filling it with memorable characters. It’s easy to see this when we look at a catwalk collection or a lead actor in a sumptuous historical costume, but it’s all too easy to forget when it comes to our own wardrobes.

Bridget Harvey's work in Fashioned From Nature, V&A

Fashion exhibitions have become must-see events in recent years, and alongside sell-out retrospectives like Alexander McQueen and Dior at the V&A, other more personal fashion showcases have also proved extremely popular. The V&A exhibition Frida Kahlo: Making Her Self Up stayed open overnight so visitors could enjoy a glimpse of the artist’s unique clothing collection. As well as exhibitions of picture-perfect couture, like the Azzedine Alaia retrospective at the Design Museum, curators are also choosing to emphasise the relevance of everyday items of clothing with special cultural significance, like the Fashion and Textile Museum’s T Shirts: Cult, Culture and Subversion exhibition.

Bridget Harvey, V&A artist in residence

The clothes on display don’t have to be pristine pieces in order to make great museum exhibits. I was fascinated, seeing a selection of Isabella Blow’s enviable clothing collection at Somerset House, and realising on closer inspection that these fabulous examples of couture dressmaking showed distinct signs of wear and tear. Even as a dressmaker who knows how much time and effort goes into making a couture garment, it was hard to be annoyed. Isabella Blow has obviously been someone who loved her outlandish clothes so much that she simply had to wear them, even if they weren’t really appropriate for the occasion. 

Signs of wear and tear on a garment are often seen as a bad thing, a sign that the garment is “ruined”. But when the wedding dress I made for my sister ended up with a muddy hem, someone said “ooh, I love the ombré effect!” and we both thought this was brilliant. The dress tells a story of the day; a walk down a woodland path, a sudden cloudburst, a photo shoot in a meadow full of wildflowers.

Visible mending by Bridget Harvey

We are too hard on our clothes, rejecting them before we have even had the chance to get to know them. Maybe because they are so cheap, we see them as disposable, maybe because many of us don’t know much about the processes that go into making clothes. It seems so strange to me that most people will happily spend money on pre-distressed new clothing, but throw a garment away as soon as their life makes an imprint on it. 

Visible mending by Celia Pym

One of the V&A’s current artists in residence, Bridget Harvey, creates work that explores the art of repair and re-making. Discarded pieces of clothing are transformed with a combination of traditional mending techniques and more thought-provoking embellishment. Textile artist Celia Pym has also turned darning into an art form at the V&A, copying every bit of visible mending she completed on garments brought in by members of the public onto a tracksuit as a record of her work. I saw the tracksuit at the Subversive Stitch exhibition at TJ Boulting, alongside work by James Merry, who embroiders discarded logo sportswear with tiny intricate flowers, as though nature is slowly reclaiming our cast-offs.

Embroidery by James Merry

In the run-up to Fashion Revolution Week, Fashion Revolution have launched their latest zine: Fashion Craft Revolution. I submitted a story about my family’s sewing and crafting history, and although it didn’t make it into the zine it did get an honourable mention in this Fashion Revolution Blog Post. I’ll share my story on my blog separately later, but I’d love my readers to see the other beautiful and moving responses to this topic that are also featured in the post. We are sharing our stories in the hope that we can help everyone to see our clothes as part of the fabric of our lives, something rich in storytelling potential. For the sake of everyone on this planet, our clothes (and the people who make them) deserve more than our current throwaway narrative.

My 2019 Six Items Challenge

Hello again!

Take It Up Wear It Out has been on hiatus for a few months because I’ve been moving house. I found my dream eco-home last summer, and finally after some drama and many anxious moments, I moved in at the end of last year (best birthday/Christmas present ever!). I’ve been working on making it my own, slowly but surely, and set myself the challenge of not buying anything new (except where absolutely necessary). I’m going to be blogging fortnightly from now on, and I’m planning to post about my flat as well as about my clothes; every sustainable lifestyle blogger succumbs to mission-creep sooner or later, because it really does become a lifestyle, and one that informs all of your purchasing decisions. 

But right now I want to talk to you about garment workers rights and questionable clothing choices: I’m taking part in Labour Behind the Label's Six Items Challenge!

Labour Behind the Label is a charity which supports the rights of garment workers around the world. Working with local and international organisations, they support workers in their often dangerous struggle to attain things we would consider basic human rights, like a living wage and a safe workplace. Workers are routinely fired, intimidated and blacklisted for standing up for their rights, and some have even been killed in their attempts to unionise and advocate for better pay and working conditions.  At a time where wage inequality is on the rise, it benefits all of us to stand with our fellow workers rather than turning a blind eye to their struggles when times are hard for us. 

The idea behind the Six Items “fashion fast” is to appreciate the clothes we often take for granted (and the people who make them). When we have access to unlimited cheap clothing, we don’t stop to think about the possibilities our clothes hold. How versatile are they? Where could I wear them, and how could I accessorise them to truly make them work for every occasion?

When selecting the Six Items I’ll be wearing for the next six weeks (don’t panic, I can still change my pants and socks), I started thinking about the way we buy clothes. Some people are probably well set up for a similar challenge, sensibly buying co-ordinating clothes to form a capsule wardrobe. But most of us buy clothes without much planning, and I’ll admit that when I’m scouring the rails of a vintage shop I’m not exactly thinking about whether my new finds will blend in effortlessly with my existing clothes. 

So for the next six weeks, I’ll only be wearing six items of clothing, all of which I bought on a whim, because I thought they looked fun. Three dresses, two jumpsuits, and a light jacket that I copied from a Topshop shrug I found in a clothes swap, and made on a whim because I wanted a winter version. A large part of my sustainable lifestyle is discovering imaginative solutions to problems, so I should (hopefully) be able to apply this to my own wardrobe!

Labour Behind the Label is a grassroots organisation and relies on donations, so anything you can pledge via my fundraising page would be gratefully received! I’m not asking you to sponsor me for wearing my own clothes, but if seeing me
in the same outfit day after day makes you think about the contents of your wardrobe, or the people who make your clothes, then please consider donating. If you find yourself absentmindedly buying a t-shirt from a fast fashion retailer in the next six weeks, could you spare the same amount again to help the person who made it?

You can donate here, thanks in advance!

Caring for your winter coats

Our coats have a tough life. Out in all weathers, protecting us from the elements for six months of the year, then all but abandoned for the spring and summer until temperatures start to fall again. Coats are often one of our more expensive clothing purchases, and we want them to last for as long as possible, but we wear them every day during cold weather, so they are subject to more wear and tear than a lot of our clothes. If you’re worried that your favourite coat looks a little drab, here’s my guide to caring for your winter outerwear. 

Follow the care instructions...

Winter coats are designed to protect us from the elements, but sometimes they need protecting from the elements themselves. Leather shoes need polishing and waterproofing to keep the leather supple and our feet dry, and some winter coats need the same treatment. Barbour wax jackets are designed to last for years (they can be sent back to the factory for repairs) but they do need re-waxing to keep them waterproof. If you’re organised enough to remember in August, you can send your coat back to be re-waxed professionally, or you can buy a jar of their garment wax and do it yourself. It’s not a particularly messy process but it does take time; spending over an hour of gently massaging softened wax into garment seams sounds a bit odd but it’s well worth the time; my coat is fully weather-proof again.

...but don’t expect miracles from dry cleaning

If your coat is marked or stained, dry cleaning can work wonders. It isn’t always the best at removing odours though, and synthetic lining fabrics can retain odours too, meaning that your coat might not smell so fresh after a couple of warm journeys on public transport. You can clean a coat lining more effectively yourself, using a damp sponge on the lining. 

Try a cool wash

A lot of synthetic or cotton coats are designed to be machine-washed at a cool temperature. My green jacket was starting to show signs of wear; a 30 minute, 30 degree wash meant it lost none of its characterful wear patterns but is now a lot cleaner! If you can, put a synthetic coat inside a guppy bag, or in the wash with a Cora ball, to connect microfibres that could contribute to plastic pollution in our water supply.

Store your clothes sensibly

While few, if any, of us will have a perfect clothes storage system in our homes, we can keep our coats looking better for longer by hanging them on hangers, especially when we’re not wearing them every day. Hanging your coat directly on a hook, especially if it doesn’t have a hanging loop, can leave weird lumps and bumps in the neckline or shoulders of your coat, as the weight of the garment causes the fabric to distort around the hook. Using a hanger and fastening your coats up when you’re not wearing them means they will take up less space on a wall-mounted coat rack or row of hooks.

Mend before you wear?

I have a secret to share. The bound edge of the pocket in this coat came loose years ago and I never mended it, I just fastened it with some safety pins and tried to remember not to put small things in there. I’ve kind of got used to this temporary fix (even though it would take me less than five minutes to sew it back together) so I wanted to share this “confession” as a sort of permission for anyone who worries that their mending or sewing might not be up to scratch,  or that their clothes have to be pristine or they can’t be worn. Let’s face it, there are parts of all of us that are just held together with safety pins, but somehow we’re making it work every day. 

This brings me to the thing I wanted to share along with the tips: my thoughts on the value judgements we place on the way things look. I’m wearing my old, much-loved coats proudly because I don’t think there is anything bad about wearing clothes that look worn (we pay extra for someone to sandpaper our jeans, for goodness sake!), and that it’s not always necessary or practical for something to look pristine. Most of us have things we need to prioritise over tending to our clothes, but at the same time garment care is a useful skill that can save us money in the long run. If it helps, reframe this as a subversive and radical act instead of another chore you ought to be doing. Fast fashion relies on customer dissatisfaction with clothes that age or wear badly, so you can stop the cycle of consumption by loving your imperfect but oh-so-wearable clothes.