shopping

I resolved this year to give up on disposable fashion, and since I'm trying to make those resolutions into a theme I thought I'd write a bit more about why.

I grew up thinking that the true mark of a successful purchase was its price. Something that was OK and very cheap was better than something beautiful and more costly. My friends and family would always react with greater enthusiasm to "and it was only eight quid!" than they would to "and it's perfect!" I went through a phase, when I first started earning money, of regularly spending £50-100 on a single item of clothing (that one year makes up a good 50% of my "previous hits" post, actually) and I kept it as quiet as I possibly could. Even though I liked these clothes much more, my friends thought that only a chump would spend £100 on a jacket when you could get one in Primark for £14, and I was quite embarrassed about it. 

In recent years I've been on many a Primark shopping spree. While I have found things that worked for me - flat shoes that don't hurt my feet, a jacket I've worn a lot, a black jumper that is my favourite ever - most of it gets worn once or twice and then ignored, or doesn't get worn at all. When I first moved into this flat I went on a Primark blitz and bought three pairs of suede ankle boots in different colours, totalling £36 for the lot. In my clear out last year I got rid of all three pairs, still with the tags on, still in the shopping bag they came home in. I've got rid of dozens of things that I don't even consider wearing when I get them home. In the changing room I ask a lot less of cheaper clothes, and when I get them home I can't get my head around the idea of "taking it back to Primark". Who takes things back to Primark? You'd spend more on your travel there and back than you did on the cost of the thing. You save money by getting home and throwing it out immediately!

But I have thrown out SO MUCH STUFF lately. At least six bin bags full of stuff in the last six months. I go shopping and buy things because it's cheap, or because I've tried it on and it's not great but it's not awful either, or because I really wanted to buy something. I buy dresses that fit when I try them on but lose their shape after a few washes, or shrink to "too scared to bend forward" levels. This way of shopping just isn't working for me. Impulse buying cheap clothes hasn't got me any closer to a functional wardrobe, and having piles of stuff I don't want lying all over my bedroom floor is just stressing me out. The people in my life are a bit different now - sure, everybody likes a bargain, but a lot of the people I spend time with will happily drop three figures on a piece of clothing or a pair of shoes they really like. The embarrassment of having spent money isn't really there anymore, although I still try not to mention it around my schoolfriends or family (my mother on hearing I'd spent £30 on fabric for my tea dress: "Oh my God! Thank God you didn't mess it up!"). 

Periodically throwing stuff out has always been my pattern and every time I've resolved to make better choices and exercise a little more judgement when ripping apart a Primark accessory wall. This time was different, because between this clear out and the last one, I'd learned how to sew. From an ethical standpoint, now that I know what goes into making a dress, it's no longer possible for me to continue pretending that I don't know about the dubious labour practices of fast fashion. I spent seven years working in employment relations, giving advice on employment law and best practice, and though I've recently quit, it's still pretty central to my ethics and I am not prepared to be a massive hypocrite about this anymore. I'm under no illusions that I'm doing anything praiseworthy or even helpful here, and it's going to go into the same bin as Amazon - will not use for reasons of personal ick. 

One of the things that's inspired me most about learning to sew is reading the blogs of independent pattern companies, watching them engage with their customers, seeing what they make themselves, listening to their advice and watching them take advice that's given to them. Prior to last year I don't ever recall being consumed by such a need to give certain people my money. I've got upset when particular companies release patterns I don't like because I really wanted to give them more money, and I've spent more time than I care to reckon up debating whether or not I can justify paying ridiculous Canadian shipping costs to get hold of Closet Case patterns now that they're in print form (the answer right now is "I have no source of income at the moment, but if there's a slightly sheepish coat post at some point in the next few months nobody should be too surprised"). I really like knowing who I'm buying from. I love getting packages through the door with hand-signed compliments slips. I would probably love buying from independent designers and dressmakers if I knew how to go about finding ones who matched my style. The idea of buying something beyond my skill set that's been made by an actual person is very appealing. 

It would be quite nice to just say "I will not buy any more clothes, full stop", but I don't think that's realistic. I have no immediate plans to start making jeans or underwear or accessories, and I doubt I'm ever going to take up shoemaking. What I'm going to say instead is that I will not go clothes shopping unless I need something particular, and that I will be very careful about where I buy it. The thrill of acquiring something shiny and new comes to me in a different way, and there's no longer any need for bags of disposable crap. It was fun, Primark, but now I'm done.