Less than two weeks after American Apparel announced the closing of all its stores, teen-focused retailer Wet Seal announced yesterday that they are closing all 173 stores after failing to find an investor or alternative source of capital to continue funding operations. The closure marks another serious blow to traditional retail fashion as fast-fashion stores such as H&M and Forever21 continue to dominate the sector.
I have to be very careful in telling this story because it involves people we really do care about, we just happen to think they are very wrong about some things. Please forgive me if I fudge on some of the details.
About a month ago, I bought Kat a very large and colorful scarf. The scarf was to offset the solid gray suit that she needed to wear for a special occasion. At first, I wasn’t sure how much Kat actually liked the scarf. It was one of those times when, after staring at a wall of scarves, she turned to me and said, “You’re the fashion person here. You choose.” I never know quite what to do with statements like that.
Nonetheless, as it’s gotten colder Kat has taken to wearing the scarf in place of a hat. The scarf is large enough that she can drape it over her head then wrap it around to keep as much of her face and neck warm as she needs. As an added bonus, it doesn’t smash her hair down as a hat would.
This past weekend, she wore the scarf to an event we were attending. As we were preparing to leave that evening, Kat started to put on her scarf and was wrapping it around her neck when someone for whom we care very much said, “You look like you’re about to set off a bomb in that thing.”
We were stunned and left without saying anything further. We know this person to be kind, caring, and very giving. For such an incredibly racist statement to come from her mouth was not only surprising, it hurt.
People all over the country have been saying a lot of hurtful and insensitive things the past few weeks. We’re heading into that time of year when we’re supposed to be unified and joyous. Yet, it seems like every day there’s a new video of someone berating another because of their presumed religion, or race, or ancestry, or gender.
Advertisers have picked up on the tenuous emotion of this particular holiday season and many have backed off the aggressiveness of trying to sell their product. Instead, they’ve opted to attempt to send a message that perhaps gets us a little closer to the actual holiday spirit. Sure, they still want you to buy their stuff, but they don’t want you to yell at a cashier because she’s Hindu or screaming at a woman in the aisle just because she’s wearing a hijab.
Below are three ads that have very important messages going beyond purchasing their product. If you get the message, that’s wonderful. May you have a joyous holiday season. If you don’t, you might need to back up and rethink why you’re bothering to celebrate any holiday at all.
https://youtu.be/VDinoNRC49c
https://youtu.be/aFPcsYGriEs
Recycling old clothes to create new fashion addresses a big problem, but is it enough?
Sitting near my back door are two trash bags full of clothing waiting to be donated to … something. We’ve thought about different charities, but looking into them we were disappointed by the number of clothes still ending up in landfills. There are a few stores around that will give you store credit (minimal as it may be) for donating your used clothing to them, but they still end up throwing much of those donations into the incinerator. Actual recycling of clothes doesn’t happen as much as we’d like to think.
As we prepare for the onslaught of new clothing that arrives with the beginning of a month of fashion weeks, we need to stop and take a moment to consider what we’re doing with the things we cast off. As (hopefully) wonderful new designs come down the runway, we’re likely to see a lot that we want hanging in our closets. The problem is that our closets are already full. Our dresser drawers are already overflowing. Before we buy new, we have to make space by tossing out the old.
Some people religiously donate to charitable resale shops. Others try to make a dime back at consignment shops. Too many others don’t want to be bothered and simply throw things in the trash. In doing so, as much as we might think we’re doing something good, we are creating a problem.
We’ve talked about it before, how much fast fashion generates more clothing than can be worn. By some accounts, fast fashion is the second dirtiest business in the world. Only the oil industry produces more pollution. For the better part of the past decade, environmentalists have warned about the tremendous impact of fashion’s overwhelming waste. Between the harsh chemicals used in fabric production and the amount of material deposited in landfills, the negative impact of fashion is greater than its economic benefit.
And that’s not even taking into consideration the immoral use of animal hide and fur.
Both the producer and the consumer are at fault. Garment manufacturers are under pressure to produce materials at increasingly lower costs in order to feed fast fashion’s discount-oriented machine. Recycling these materials is difficult because the chemicals used in their creation destroys fibers making it difficult for stitching to hold up over any length of time. Fabrics begin to fray, become discolored, and start to fall apart after only a few washings.
Consumers don’t treat clothes any better. We use fabric softeners and harsh laundry detergents that not only pollute the water but further erode the quality of the fabrics. Simply by trying to maintain our clothes we are destroying them. Then, not liking the damaged condition of our wardrobe, we throw them away, by the ton. We don’t even consider recycling in many cases because the condition of the clothing is just too poor.
Answers to big problems sometimes come from unlikely sources. In this case, one of fast fashion’s leading retailers, H&M, is at least trying to find sustainable solutions. An article in WWD yesterday takes a look at the retailer’s efforts at recycling used clothing by turning them into new fashion. H&M partnered with the London College of Fashion in creating a contest urging design students to use donated materials as the central element in a capsule collection.
Fabrics for the project came from H&M’s policy of allowing customers to bring in castoff clothing, regardless of origin. The program, which began in 2012, promises consumers a discount on a single item in the store in exchange for their donation. Shoppers are told that their donations will be recycled or used for new garments. The contest is an important step toward fulfilling that promise.
33 teams participated in the project aiming to waste no material in the production of new fashion. Eight winners were announced, though there is no mention as to whether any of the collections might be considered for production. The message sent to design students, however, was pretty clear: recycling materials gets you hard-to-find attention.
Cecilia Brännsten, H&M’s sustainability business expert, told WWD:
We will need a holistic approach to circularity. It will include the whole life cycle from design, what chemicals we put into our products, material choice, production processes and new ways of enjoying fashion by reuse, rental, and repair.
Such an attitude is necessary if fast fashion is going to survive. Without it, there is a place in the near future where the mountains of cast-off and unsold clothing become a burden that cannot be ignored. The current model of fast fashion is simply not sustainable.
However, recycling solutions require consumer participation at a much higher degree than what is currently taking place. While we are pleased to see design students thinking of recycling, making the leap from contests to actual production requires that those mountains of clothes be available to garment manufacturers rather than in landfills. If consumers don’t participate in recycling programs, there is no source for the new designs.
I’m going to stop short of actually endorsing H&M’s clothing donation program. I think it is going to take more than a one-time 15% discount for them to procure enough usable fabric to actually turn recycling into a viable fabric source.
At the same time, though, those who shop fast fashion retailers like H&M need to share in the burden of finding a sustainable solution to all the waste they’re creating. Perhaps if there were a requirement for shoppers to donate at least one item before buying a new one then recycling programs might stand a chance. I don’t see that happening, though, as it would cut into the impulse shopping that accounts for the majority of fashion purchases in the first place. Consumers, people like you and me, have to be motivated to do more.
Unfortunately, if a problem isn’t causing us adverse pain we tend to not care about being part of the solution. We want other people to do the work for us. Too many people think that their participation doesn’t matter. If we’re going to put a dent in the amount of fashion waste created then we all have to participate in recycling programs, whether at H&M or elsewhere. Stop putting fabric in the trash. Either find a way to reuse materials yourself or make it available to someone who can.
I sincerely believe H&M and other fashion retailers want to be responsible. Doing so is good for their bottom line. Nothing changes without your participation, however. You need to be fashion responsible. Before you swipe your credit card for that new Dior blazer, consider donating something from your closet to a recycling project. We’ll all be better for it.
Just where do we draw the line for what is appropriate for professional business attire
Walk into most any office today and notice how people are dressed. When one compares what is acceptable professional attire in today’s environment, it is difficult to image that less than 50 years ago there was no such thing as casual Fridays. White-collar workers actually work starched shirts with white collars. Women wore dresses or, at the very least, a well-accessorised pantsuit, and that was only acceptable when the outdoor temperatures were frigid.
My father didn’t even own a pair of jeans until the 1980s, and then it was a practical purchase, not one of comfort. He hated those jeans.
The first week I was working at a funeral home in college, I was given the task of mowing the tiny bit of grass in front of the building. I asked if I could go back to the dorm and change into more appropriate clothing. I was told, “No, we’re professional. You need to learn to do everything in a suit and tie.” So, I did.
Looking around, I see only a handful of places where strict professional dress codes are still in place: courtrooms, newscasts (only applies to the talent behind the desk), award shows, and, to this day, funeral homes. Everywhere else has gone casual, not just on Friday, but every day of the week. Even worse, a number of casual offices still observe Casual Fridays. How does one get more casual than casual?
What happened to our sense of decorum and professionalism? When did we stop taking pride in how we dress on a daily basis? Why is even Casual Friday too much of a strain for some people?
Blame the leisure suit. Blame former President Jimmy Carter. Blame that whole self-awareness movement. Blame Lululemon.
Men’s leisure suits were an attempt in the 1970s to add some style and flair to men’s wear. Lapels went wide. Ties went fat. Fabrics went synthetic. Good taste went out the fucking window. Half-way through that decade, the ties were dropped in favor of pattern-printed silk shirts that were left unbuttoned far, far, too often. Those who are old enough to remember comedians Stave Martin and Dan Akroyd’s skits as “two wild and crazy guys” know what I mean. There was still a nod toward appropriate dress as they were, technically still suits, and depending on the year, matching vests as well. Still, they classify as one of the worst mistakes fashion has ever conceived.
Jimmy Carter was one of the few presidents elected who was not a politician or lawyer by trade. Born and raised in Plains, Georgia, part of Mr. Carter’s appeal to this day is that he’s still basically a peanut farmer. He’s a down-to-earth, hard-working, no-nonsense kind of person with enough natural charm to make anyone comfortable. Being a farmer, though, he was unaccustomed to wearing a suit. He hadn’t often worn one as governor of Georgia, and during those moments when he was not meeting with other heads of state, he didn’t particularly enjoy wearing a suit at the White House. As a result, the White House dress code was relaxed. The seed for Casual Friday had been planted.
When the White House relaxed, the entire nation followed suit, so to speak. I still remember starting school in the fall of 1977 and being told that bluejeans were now acceptable attire. That move alone was shocking. It was during this period that the concept of Casual Friday was first introduced. No one actually intended to “dress down” the entire week, but since Fridays tend to have fewer client meetings and a less critical atmosphere, the move seemed reasonably safe.
Then came the whole self-awareness movement in the late 80s and early 90s. Having survived the suffocating strictness of the Reagan years and pretending to be something we weren’t, Americans began to “get in touch” with their individuality. Being off-trend became trendy. Khaki was everywhere because it was more professional than bluejeans but more comfortable than a suit. Men stopped wearing ties because the open shirt collar was “more relatable.” Women stopped wearing heels and sandals became a really big thing.
Then, some idiot invented the flip-flop. Born from the Southern California surf culture, with which we were all enamored, shoe companies took a serious hit as the nation decided it wanted to be as close to barefoot as possible. To this day, I know far too many people whose entire shoe wardrobe consists only of flip-flops. Many of you may even remember the controversy in 2005 when members of Northwestern University’s national championship women’s lacrosse team wore flip-flops to the White House. Granted, they were nicer than your every-day flip-flops, but they were still flip-flops. Casual Friday had taken over.
Now, Casual Friday is going a little further. Not content with casual button-up shirts and loose-fitting slacks from H&M, “athleisure” is beginning to leave the yoga studio and creep into the workplace. An article published yesterday by Bloomberg confirms the trend. Sales of activewear are up 15 percent while much of the higher-end fashion industry languishes in the doldrums. With celebrities like Beyoncè pushing athleisure with her Ivy Park line, more people are trying to figure out ways to go from the office to the gym or the yoga studio without having to carry a gym bag.
This new form of Casual Friday might not be quite so bothersome if people only worked out after leaving the office, but that’s not the case. More people workout in the morning or during their lunch break. They sweat. Then, for reasons I can only chalk up to oxygen deprivation during their workout, these otherwise-sane people think they can just toss a long sweater or t-shirt over their workout clothes and be fine. No, I’m sorry, you stink and your hands are sweaty. Take a fucking shower and change clothes, please.
An inconvenient turn of events left me eating lunch at The Cracker Barrel yesterday, something I had not planned on doing when I left the house wearing slacks that, in my opinion, were a little too loose. As I looked around the dining room, I noticed an interesting dichotomy. Women approximately my age or older were all dressed in a manner we might have considered casual back in the 70s, but was nonetheless quite well styled with appropriate accessories, their hair coifed, and gentle applications of makeup. Younger women, however, were all wearing jeans, or yoga pants, or shorts, all with flip-flops, no makeup, and their hair tossed in something that might have been a bun or a ponytail but somehow not quite either. The difference between the generations was startling.
Casual Friday has its place, and one should be free to wear clothes that are comfortable. Yet, I cannot help but mourn the loss of professionalism in how we dress. I feel sad when people no longer take any pride in how they dress on a daily basis, or the manner in which they present themselves in public. I’ll even admit to being biased against people I meet whose choice of clothing is grossly inappropriate. When I shake someone’s hand for the first time, a cold and sweaty palm are not what I want to encounter.
It’s Friday, and there’s no reason to not be casual about it, but good taste has a limit. Please try to not cross that line.
The first step toward fixing a broken fashion industry is getting it to slow down
Fashion’s speculators have been reeling since last fall when both Raf Simons and Elbar Albaz left high-profile creative positions without announcing a move to another similar post. Since then, others, most notably last week’s departure of Hedi Slimane from Yves Saint Laurent, have continued to underscore one of the most significant problems with fashion today: the current pace of eight collections a year is too much. Designers have been complaining for years and now, rather than continuing to put up with the relentless pace demanded by high profile houses, they’re leaving, taking their creativity with them.
This past Saturday, April 9, London’s Telegraph published an interview with Raf Simons that lays out the severity of this problem more clearly than previous statements.
“These days it’s a different way of consuming [culture]. It’s now looking and then swiping to the next thing – looking, next; looking, next; looking, next; next, next, next, next – there’s less dialogue and engagement with it in general”
Here would be the first place we need to slow down: taking the time to consider what we’re consuming so that designers have time to consider what they’re creating. When we engage in fast fashion, especially as we tend to do more online shopping through our smartphones and/or mobile devices, we’re not paying attention to what it is we’re actually buying. Some people don’t care; they buy for the look and prestige of a label and hope that they will be able to squeeze into the garment once it arrives. We don’t take the time to pay attention to stitching, to how well the fabric is going to stand up, or the type of care it’s going to require. Paying more attention to what we’re buying slows the purchasing process which, in turn, gradually slows the development process, giving designers more time to be creative and pay more attention to what they’re sending down the catwalk.
Simons also spoke to the pace at which designers are expected to develop. If a small designer’s work catches on in the right places, the explosion can be deafening.
“Fashion has become such a big thing. When you are just a kid from the streets somewhere you start slowly, maybe with just two people watching and then 10 and 50 and 100. These days that can grow really fast. Suddenly millions of people are watching.”
Creative fashion talent is something that takes time to grow and the traditional model allows for that. Designers first go to school then work their way up through a label, giving them time to not only hone their craft, but to learn the business as well before starting out on their own. Inasmuch as fast-fashion retailers such as H&M and Zara pluck young designers directly out of school and start demanding store-ready work from them deteriorates that growth opportunity while simultaneously minimizing their personal brand. When fed-up and burned-out designers finally leave such a place, they’re often so discouraged and disenfranchised that they leave fashion altogether. Wonderfully creative minds are being killed before they have an opportunity to fully blossom.
As fast fashion kills the opportunity for creativity, it is making more and more fashion irrelevant, which cannot help but ultimately backfire on the retailers. While the stores may appear to be putting “new” fashion on their shelves on a daily basis, what they’re actually doing is replacing one vintage inspired piece with a different vintage inspired piece. Sooner or later, people begin to look at their closet and see that they already have the exact same things that are on store shelves. Simons hits the topic rather bluntly:
“Everyone is paying attention to the wrong thing in my opinion. There’s this huge debate about ‘Oh my God, should we sell the garments the day after the show or three days after the show or should we tweet it in this way or Instagram it in that way?’… You know, all that kind of bullshit. Will all that stuff still be relevant 30 years from now? I don’t think so.”
If fashion is not memorable, if a fashion style does not define its time and place, of what good is it, ultimately? Are we looking at a fashion future that is as bland and boring as what we’ve been seeing on runways the past five years? Is fast fashion going to kill every last ounce of creativity until designers are replaced by machines making random modifications to old patterns? Simons doesn’t mix words when explains how fed up he is with the current pace of fast fashion:
“Every season I see so many things evolving at such a speed that I think certain creative people, including myself, are just not willing to do it anymore. I don’t want to. If you work on that level, you miss out on a lot of things.”
After reading this interview, I’m not expecting to see Raf Simons heading another ready-to-wear label anytime soon. While I’m sure there are offers being made, he doesn’t seem the least bit inclined to return to the craziness and self-destructive atmosphere that is fast fashion. We should take this as a warning.
Consumers are the ones who must stop fast fashion. H&M and Zara and Forever 21 are simply responding to your buying habits. When consumers demand more, faster, they rip away the opportunity for designers to think, to explore, and consider all that comes with being creative. If we want to derail this destructive train of fast fashion, we have to change the way we shop. Look more at local designers and boutiques. Take more time and be intelligent about what we buy. Pay attention to quality and not be so driven by price alone.
Should we fail, we may soon see a day where we’re all wearing identical jumpsuits. We don’t want that.