I’ve wondered whether to re-write this post and make it more exciting; I’ve wondered whether to make a countdown of content and list my favourite blog posts from over the past eight years and fill it with throwback photos. But really, this post only needs simplicity.
It is equally as nerve-wracking as it is exciting to write. This marks a new era in my life, as hyperbolic as that may sound.
On March 29th 2012, I started this blog. Today, on September 3rd 2020, I am publishing my last post on tollydollyposhfashion.com and launching a new website – tolmeiagregory.com – tomorrow, on September 4th.
It’s also a little uncomfortable talking so directly about myself; it feels a bit icky and unnatural due to the nature of the work I’ve now committed myself to and how it’s not really being about me but the world and us, as a collective. However, this is is my space after all and even though I don’t get often share overly personal things, I recognise that it’s always appreciated more than I usually expect it to.
If you’ve been a follower for a while, you may have noticed that my blog has become increasingly inactive (and if you’ve only followed me recently, you might not know it even exists!). In the early days, I was posting daily updates, made up of outfit pictures taken on an iPhone 3 and collages of product photos to showcase celebrity style inspiration. In the latter days of covering climate activism and sustainable fashion? You’d be lucky to see me publishing once a month.
This change has been entirely natural. It has come after years of pouring my heart and energy into frequently uploaded content, after writing 830 blog posts (yes, you read that correctly; 830) and after growing from an 11-year-old to a fully independent 20-year-old who has her own bills to pay.
My content gradually evolved and blog posts went from taking half-an-hour to complete to several days, from photography to research. It’s not that it became unenjoyable but it was taking time away from what was becoming a more valuable use of my time.
Instagram and its many uses were slowly becoming a more powerful tool and it was freeing up that time. Instead of compiling long-form content, I was able to keep important conversations going around the clock. I could make things more personal, allow my content to become more accessible to all and share other people’s work and educational content in a much easier way. My platform has blossomed into something stronger than it was before. I’m also more than certain that most people’s digital attention spans have lessened since 2012, as sad as that may be.
Along the way, I’ve even become self-employed and started a career as an illustrator. Launching GIPHY stickers in 2018 was one of the best decisions I ever made because it has given me freedom and flexibility and the skills to run my own business.
As a now self-proclaimed activist – the ability to share and inspire people instantly is more important to me now than having to maintain a platform fit for consistent levels of high-quality long-form content. After all, we’re facing a Climate Emergency – time is of the essence. Of course, I’ve always appreciated quality over quantity but there are now more conversations to be had and topics to cover than there ever was before.
I will note that alongside this, personal wellbeing has to come first. At the time of writing this, I am coming towards the end of a month-long break from keeping on top of my social media platforms; the first time I’ve ever done this. The only Instagram and Twitter-ing I’ve engaged with have been for my local activism group back home, where I live-tweeted an action from my parent’s house in Italy as they mass-cycled down a dual-carriageway in the UK. Proof that everybody can get involved, even if you aren’t physically on the streets!
I also never aimed to keep up my blog for this long. It was a summer project, initially. It was just an idea that 11-year-old Tolly had, to combine her interest in fashion and the digital world into one. It was never my goal to become an ‘influencer’ or to have my work featured in publications and to be nominated for awards (and most recently, turn them down, especially when the nomination is coming from a publication promoting consumerism and unhealthy diet culture for women). Just as it was never my aim to become an activist. This has all been a truly organic progress; I’ve just been going along for a ride with what this has all become.
I’m sure my 11-year-old self would be proud of everything she’s achieved over the years and would be even prouder to know that I am using my platform in such a positive way. Letting go of this blog is much like letting go of my aspirations of becoming a fashion designer – yes, it’s a big decision to make but it makes sense. It’s making room for something even better and more fulfilling.
However, I’ve decided to not let go of this blog entirely. I want it to carry on existing because it is much more than a fashion blog. I’ve only archived or deleted a handful of blog posts. Every other bad blog post is still up. Every outfit post taken by my dad from dodgy angles before we discovered what ‘bokeh’ means, still lives on. Every most-likely problematic thought that I’d yet to educate myself on, is still there (because it’s possible to evolve, grow and learn and unlearn).
Every post dedicated to a fast-fashion brand or a company I wouldn’t dare support nowadays is still available for all to see (something that often surprises new followers is that I haven’t always been an ethical fashion advocate). The blog post that documented the traumatic experience of surviving an earthquake a few years ago, is still up to revisit.
It’s a time capsule that is still full of resources for young people just finding their footing in things like sustainable fashion or becoming themselves. It would be a waste to let it go, but it also wouldn’t feel right to carry it all with me as I keep riding along this journey. I tried that; I copied old content – the really good stuff – over to my new website, and it just didn’t feel right.
I want to thank each and every person who has ever sat down and read even a sentence of this blog. You have been a part of my growing up, my childhood and my ‘becoming’. I know – dramatic.
It’s not as if this is goodbye forever, it’s just a goodbye to this slice of my internet pie. And if you’re curious what the next chapter looks like, you can go and have a read on my new blog or, of course, continue to stay updated elsewhere like on Instagram and Twitter. I’ll also have a limited run of art prints available, which is another new exciting venture for me.
I will still be writing content that is longer than an Instagram caption but it’s not something I’ll be tied to. There will no longer be the pressure to be a ‘blogger’. I can just be me and when something worth talking about comes up, it will have a new home – the home that will also belong to my work as an activist and a digital artist.
And to be completely honest? I think I may have slightly outgrown this nickname or ‘brand’. It was lovely and endearing in the beginning, taken from a story my mum made up when I was little but I’ve admittedly reached the point where I feel a little bit embarrassed every time I share my username with someone in person because, really, I’m not Tolly Dolly anything…
One year ago, I rather naively and nervously journeyed to London to participate in Extinction Rebellion’s first ‘International Rebellion’. I say naively because, at that stage in my activism journey, I had little to no knowledge of my rights to protest, the different laws I could potentially be breaking and the risks I was opening myself up to by partaking in an act of civil disobedience, to demand drastic climate action.
I want to preface this by saying I understand the flaws of the movement as a whole. In an ideal world, there would be no need for separate movements and organisations to focus on the climate crisis – we would work together, as a civilisation to mitigate the effects of an emergency that is very much still ongoing despite the current global pandemic that is upon us.
We would (and should) go to great lengths to raise the voices of those who have been paving the way since before climate change was ever something we had to consider.
I understand that the mostly positive experiences I have had over the past year, have come out of a place of privilege and out of the little risk to my safety, wellbeing and overall security. I will never beat around the bush that this type of activism can often cost a fair amount of money (whether it’s for covering accommodation, food, travel or other expenses), take a lot of time and have potential legal consequences.
Not everybody can afford to take two weeks off of work or travel the country frequently, no matter how much they understand and appreciate the severity of the issue.
Direct action is not the be-all and end-all of activism (believing this is a very ableist view on activism) nor is it always the best way to bring about change – it is simply one way and one way that has come to resonate and work for me on an individual basis. However, I will note that there are many ways you can support a movement like XR, without taking to the streets.
This has been a year of my personal rebellion. It’s been one of learning and growing and coming to understand what I value in a world which is constantly challenging my reasons for staying hopeful.
If anything, this isn’t going to be about ecological collapse, facing mass extinction or discussing the reasons for acting in the first place – this is going to be about community and how now, in a time of global uncertainty, I have never felt more sure that coming together and holding hands with each other (metaphorically, of course), is the most important thing we can do to challenge the systems that are failing us. In a sense, this is a journal entry.
On this day last year, I showed up and I knew nobody.
But what came out of that day was discovering that being a part of a community isn’t about knowing anybody; it’s about coming together for a common cause, a goal or a vested interest and holding each other up on the journey that you’re all on.
It’s about the small in-between moments that we’re currently having to replicate virtually – the brief check-ins, the tilt of the head before you step in and ask if somebody’s okay. All of the things that seem like common decency but are often left behind in the fast-paced world we’ve become so used to.
Obviously, this is coming from the perspective of someone living in a country where we’ve all become so wrapped up in capitalism’s individualism that these basic human interactions seem to have slipped away.
This reflection comes at a time which feels more poignant than ever because if it wasn’t for community, the lockdown that many of us in 2020 suddenly find ourselves in, would be an even harder struggle.
There would be no mutual aid groups, clapping on our doorsteps (no matter how politically divisive that may be), singing in the streets or motivational messages being chalked onto pavements.
That first day of my rebellion, which helped in tipping the agenda to a point in which the UK Parliament declared a climate emergency, was my first true taste of this.
There was a moment that may sound insignificant if you’ve been fortunate enough to find yourself among what feels like ‘your people’ before, which always comes to mind. I can’t quite remember if this was the Monday or the Friday in which I returned for a second day of action after not being able to sit still for the days in between but I’m not sure it matters.
I was sat in the middle of Oxford Circus as the sun began to set on an unusually warm (well – is it really unusual when 2019 was one of the hottest years on record?) April evening surrounded by unfamiliar faces when a selection of biscuits started to be passed around. (The biscuits aren’t an important part of this story – if anything, it just makes the story more entertaining to retell).
Maybe it was just something about the way the light was falling on the pink boat that sat in front of me, the sheer monumental feeling of being a part of what would likely become a piece of history or the beauty of something as simple as a biscuit to fuel me after a day of exhaustion – but I felt at peace.
I felt okay in all my fear and the few strands of hope I was clinging on to with my recent realisation that there is no going back from the impact that’s been made on our planet, our world and our futures.
No matter what changes we make, no matter how we start to adapt, we will, unfortunately, see the consequences of our actions (more on this here).
I felt comforted, supported and suddenly not so alone.
And I now know that I was there by that pink boat draped in sunlight with many people I would now call friends, without knowing it.
I now know that the person who spoke in the middle of Piccadilly Circus about losing their father and how it made fighting for climate justice all the more personal, as Talia.
I now know the person who boarded the same return coach home as me, with the blue hair and the Irish accent, as Jess.
I now know the name of the person wearing the XR-themed jewellery who also boarded that very same coach and sat in the seat behind me. A few months later, I would find myself holding their hands with my eyes filled with tears, as they were lifted into a police van for continuing to take a stand.
I can now recognise faces in crowds and the people behind the instruments that echo through the streets when we come together as a band made up of strangers.
I remember those I’ve shared vulnerable moments with, and I’ve reconnected with them on the basis that we know we can find ourselves in a safe space when we see each other again.
I’ve had low moments and phone calls to get me through that I never would have received otherwise. I’ve had emails filled with wisdom and messages full of love.
Even when I’ve shown up alone, it’s never felt that way. It’s like one big interconnected family that was created out of something as necessary as wanting to protect life.
I’ve felt seen and heard. I’ve felt accepted without judgement because this cause doesn’t depend on who you are. It just needs you to show up in all your true colours; with tears and grief and hope and all.
Imagining a new world isn’t easy for me. There are too many obstacles in the way, too many reasons to look away and crumble at reality. But I now know that a new world relies on us. It relies on us being an us. It relies on a collective. A we. A sense of togetherness and solidarity for those who aren’t within our reach.
The belief that nobody should have no-one to turn to.
It’s self-sufficient but only if the self means more than one. It’s a world where we rely on each other because we know that there is nothing stronger. I see hope in each other more than anything else because there is never-ending proof that we work.
So, if anything, this is a thank you.
A thank you to every person that has welcomed and accepted me and not only understood but related to my fears. It’s a thank you to the shoulders I’ve cried on without barely having spoken a word.
A thank you for the joy and the laughter when there are so many reasons to stay in the darkness – because what’s the reason for fighting for life if we don’t celebrate the simple act of living?
In this past year, I’ve lived deeply but only because I’ve found people who have given me the space to do so.
For me, celebrating life despite all of the injustices and all of the battles we’ve yet to face is as good an act of rebellion as any other.
As the end of the year (and the decade) draws to a close, I thought I would round things off by answering some questions I’ve received lately. The end of this year has been one of work, activism and personal-related growth which explains the lack of longer-form content I’ve managed to publish as of late. 2019 has been a big one, so, let’s talk about it…
WHAT I WORE: Faux Fur Coat (Jumble sale – old) // Carhartt Dungarees (Depop) // Ruffle Blouse (Vintage Kilo Sale) // Teddy Jumper (Old) // Butterfly Sneakers (PO-ZU)* // Hat (Hand-me-down)
What are you most proud of this year?
My confidence. At the beginning of the year, I was only just starting to tip my toe into the waters of public speaking, attending events and taking part in direct forms of activism. I remember being extremely nervous to take part in my first demo (which was about protecting the rights of garment workers in Bangladesh), so much so that I lost my appetite on the day.
Since then, I feel so much more at ease when it comes to speaking on panels or putting myself in vulnerable positions for the causes that are close to my heart. I’ve realised that I do know what I’m talking about and that the reason I’m invited to speak and have my voice is heard is that people believe in my work and trust my point of view.
It’s been a huge lesson in the fact that practice makes (almost) perfect. The more you push yourself to do something, the easier it becomes. Once you’ve pushed past that initial barrier of anxiety and nerves, you won’t have to go through it again.
It’s just been a very big year for me both personally and for my work. I’ve done more than I ever have before and that’s exactly what I wanted out of the year.
What started your interest in sustainability and climate change?
Although I may not have answered this question directly on my blog before, I’ve answered it a dozen or more times this year in various interviews. The word ‘interest’ has started to baffle me though because shouldn’t we all have an interest in the climate? It’s about all of us, not just certain individuals who seem to have grasped the concept.
But to answer this question in more simple terms, my sustainable journey started in the aftermath of the Rana Plaza garment factory collapse when I watched The True Cost documentary for the first time. It was my lightbulb moment that started the line of questioning which has since led to me realising that we are facing a climate emergency and that big industry and those in power play a huge role in it.
Fashion will always be my main interest but in educating myself about one aspect of life, I have in turn realised the true scope of so many issues that are at play.
What’s inspiring you right now?
As much as I’ve spoken about how we need to move away from relying on youth activists and praising them rather than acting on their words, I have to say that the clear cut, no-nonsense attitudes of people my age and younger is just so incredibly refreshing. We will not take inaction and we will not stand for injustice.
For as long as I know there are these strong, powerful voices from people who are sticking to their guns and not taking half-hearted commitments from those who can enact real change, I will feel supported and motivated to keep going.
I’ve also been inspired by fellow digital artists who are using their talents to spread information in creative ways, such as the duo from Adapt and collectives such as No Planet No Fun. The #ProtestByDesign hashtag has also been really enjoyable to follow.
LOCATION: Paris, France 🇫🇷
How did you become an activist and get such a big platform?
I think I became an activist accidentally. I suppose before participating in any form of direct action, I would have described or seen myself as an advocate for certain issues but the activist label never felt right until I was on the streets and actually practising what I was preaching.
It feels like the right term for me, especially as somebody with an online presence because I often get categorised as an influencer and I’ve always been unsure about what that means. I don’t want it to implicate that I’m selling products constantly and that my platforms are like billboards; I want people to know that I’m doing a lot more than just tweeting links to petitions and reposting news articles.
In terms of having a ‘big platform’, I have the past year and a half to thank as I’ve seen the biggest amount of growth in the shortest space of time. I’ve been fortunate enough to have received some incredible features and interviews from various publications and platforms which have enabled many more new people to discover me.
I also think there’s a growing need from social media users to find the types of people who align with their values and who are able to easily educate them on a relatable level and that’s exactly what I’m aiming to do.
Do you have plans for 2020?
I’m officially a rent-paying individual so, I’m expecting a lot of my time will now be focused on generating an income as an artist! But at the same time as that, I want to continue going with the flow and learning as I go along. That’s one huge benefit to being self-employed; I’m not restricted which means I’m able to explore whatever avenues I want to.
I’ve been thinking about how I could start to use my knowledge as an activist to advise others and to ensure that the term ‘climate emergency’ isn’t used loosely and that change genuinely happens, no matter what it might look like. This is thanks to my experience of attending Climate Launch Pad in Amsterdam, which made me realise that my voice could be used in more ways than it already is.
In terms of solid plans? I’ve been confirmed as an ambassador for an upcoming event next summer alongside some other activists who I already love and admire, so, that’s something to look forward to.
If you have any more questions for me, my comments are always open for you to use…
Thank you for your continued support over this past year. Here’s to another which hopefully brings about the radical action we’re looking for…
This is the speech I wrote about feeling proud of youth activists for the November 1st 2019 climate strike in Gloucester, UK.
As a quick introduction to who I am – I’m Tolly, I’m 19, I’m part of Extinction Rebellion and I’ve been on my environmentalist journey ever since I educated myself on the impacts of the fashion industry (the industry that I originally wanted to break into) several years ago.
The last time I wrote a speech for an action similar to this was back in July of this year. I wanted it to be a way of appreciating the greatness that has come out of this movement, like the community I have found in it.
I suppose I could do that again; I could praise us all for being here and I could thank you. However, since then, I have come to this understanding that we really shouldn’t have to be here and that we shouldn’t be being thanked or being admired for being such inspirational young people.
In that speech, amongst the heartfelt admittance of love for everyone who was stood alongside me, I also said that we shouldn’t have to be here. And it’s true; we shouldn’t have to be.
Any adult with any small sense of power and opportunity to instigate change should not be looking at us in awe. I don’t say this to the parents who are just struggling to get by and to put food on their children’s plate. I don’t say this to the families in the Global South who have had next to no part in the harm that has been done.
I say this to the leaders; to the politicians; and to the CEOs.
You should be looking at us and feeling a sense of shame; not a sense of pride.
Because this is nothing new. For example, Exxon; an oil and gas company and one of the highest greenhouse gas emitters in the world, is in court at the moment in New York, as they are being trialled for not telling the truth about the climate crisis to their investors – yet back in 1982, scientists working with Exxon accurately predicted what would happen with carbon emissions and global warming. Back in 1982.
I certainly wasn’t born. My 31-year-old sister wasn’t born and my parents were only in their twenties. Then in 1991, oil and gas company Shell, released a public information film acknowledging that there is a – “Possibility of change faster than at any time since the end of the ice age… too fast for life to adapt without severe dislocation”.
There’s even a New Zealand newspaper clipping from 1912 that suggested that burning coal may have a considerable effect on the earth in a few centuries. This is nothing new for anyone, so, why are we, the children of that generation being called heroes?
“The kids are going to save us! We’ll be fine! The next generation gives me so much hope!”
I don’t want to stand up here and bring you a sense of hope. We are not here because we want to be, we are here because you have not listened. You did not listen back in 1912, in 1982 or even in 1991 and despite the millions of people who have come out and campaigned over the past year, you are not listening now.
This is also not new for the 164 activists who died in 2018 alone, for defending their land and their right to a prosperous and healthy future, many of whom were from indigenous communities. If anything, those are the people we should be listening to.
We are so lucky and I think that’s part of the reason why we are not being listened to, here at home in the UK. A lot of us are going to be okay, for the meantime, especially those in privileged, high-up places. They don’t have the fear that so many other people have to live with, every single day.
But the climate crisis doesn’t have borders. It’s not just about here in Gloucestershire; it’s not just about here in England or in the UK. That’s what makes the climate crisis an immigration crisis, too. According to the International Organisation for Migration, 1 in 30 people in the world could be displaced due to climate impacts by 2050.
The biggest lie you can tell is that the climate crisis has borders and that for as long as other countries are so-say doing worse than us, we can rest easy. We simply cannot.
When somebody tells me that I should go and protest in another country, say India for example, not only can I tell them that actually, that’s not necessary because over 27 Indian cities took part in the September climate strikes and that Extinction Rebellion India has a website I can link them to – I can also tell them, that actually, we’re not doing better.
In the EU, the UK currently gives more subsidies to fossil fuels than any other country. Let’s also not forget the number of products that we import from all over the world, either. I once raised this point with an MP who ended up laughing in my face despite the fact I’d been crying moments prior, due to the inescapable fear that my future is being threatened.
Linking this back into how I found myself in this position; not only do we subsidise fossil fuels more than any other country in the EU, we also buy more clothes per person.
And where are those clothes manufactured? A lot of the time; places such as India. But I’ll leave that one for the local activists. It’s not a laughing matter but I joke, obviously. This is all our responsibility, especially the responsibility of those who sit and praise us without actually taking any action.
I don’t know about you, but I am not here because I want to be. I’m here because I don’t want to look back and say that I did nothing. And neither should the people who are supposedly here to protect us.
We want to inspire people to act, yes, but we are not here to be inspirational. We are here because what other choice do we have? Don’t just look at us as shiny, bright faces with funny placards; look at us as people who have hopes and dreams that we’re beginning to let go of. Look at us as people who know that others are suffering and that right now, we’re all just playing one big waiting game.
All illustrations are based on photos that were sent to me along with written submissions.
For more information on hiring me as an illustrator, click here.
Back in 2017, I wrote love stories to some of my favourite items of clothing in order to recognise that loved clothes tend to last longer in our wardrobes, whether that’s because we look after them and end up repairing them as the years go by, or whether that’s because when we initially purchased them, we knew they’d be perfect for us.
However, mainstream media tends to ignore this and seems to make clothes ‘re-wearing’ headline and clickbait news. I’m not the only one who finds this frustrating in a time when consumption rates are at an all-time high despite the environmental crisis we are experiencing.
Inspired by the reaction to a tweet I published that stated that making re-wearing newsworthy doesn’t actually promote this conscious mindset (it actually makes something such as re-wearing, which is essentially common sense, into a far bigger deal than it should be), I decided to show that if this is the example the media wants to be set, then celebrities shouldn’t be the only ones in the spotlight – people of all ages, genders, shapes and sizes, should be praised for re-wearing too.
I actually had to choose something from many, many, many pieces in my closet. But my trousers have been with me for around 10 years now. I’m quite impressed with this fact because I bought them in a fast fashion store which is not known for producing long-lasting items, but I love them very much. They are high-waisted and I like the floral pattern. They are quite thin so I wear them in summer mostly, but with leggings or tights layered under them, they work as well in colder months. I actually have the same pair in all black as well (bought 10 years ago, also) and wear them as much as the floral ones.
Tean
13
I have loads of second-hand items but one of my favourites is a purple, grey and green striped jacket. It was my mums and she got it when she was 16. It’s 29 years old and in incredible condition, there’s no holes or anything like that. I’ve worn it a lot recently, and I hope to do so in future as well.
Katie
30
I have a lovely Monsoon dress I bought to wear to my brother’s wedding back in 2014. It’s maxi-length and has a really bold print and dressy fabric, so, I don’t have a lot of occasions to wear it. However, every time I do a wardrobe clear-out I hang on to it, as it’s such a lovely dress, and now that I think back on it, after the initial wedding, I’m pretty sure I’ve worn it to at least 4 or 5 other events in the last five years, including my own 30th birthday party this year. It’s a relief to know I have something to wear already if I get invited to a fancier occasion, and it’s also fun to have something that’s not so precious I can’t wear it dressed down as well.
Ms. E
32
I have a fake fur vest that I’ve had for so long. I use it like coat in winter with sweaters underneath. It’s really warm.
I believe I bought it in 2013 in a second-hand store in Moscow, and I took it to two other countries when I moved. That is my only winter coat. So if it’s below 7 degrees Celsius this is what I am wearing from 2013. No exceptions.
Bea
16
My favourite love story is about my vintage two-piece ski suit (ORANGE – like really, really orange and puffy and with lots of handy pockets). It’s worth mentioning that I definitely come from a re-wear family, of which my mum has worn the same clothes all my life. When I started getting into clothes I’d borrow hers all the time; they would either be her mums or pre-my birth.
So… The ski suit! I was on my way home and had time to kill, so, I browsed some charity shops; in maybe the third one I was casually looking at the ‘fancy dress rail’ when I saw the most wonderfully orange, puffy, 2-piece. After trying it on it was love at first sight (wasn’t aware it was a ski suit yet).
Unfortunately, I was £2 short of the asking price (£15) so I had to heart-wrenchingly leave the shop and my darling 2-piece behind. This was the day before I was going away on a school trip so I wouldn’t be back for about 10 days in which I was sure someone else would snap it up. Anyway, like any true love story the couple re-unite above the odds and on returning home I got the train straight into town to see if it was still there and it was!
Although many were sceptical (mum included) of the practicality of this buy – “But are you really going to wear that out?” – I proceeded to wear it around the house every day except for the really hot days. It was the first time ever I was excited for the cold as then I could wear my ski suit with pride. I wore the coat consistently all winter every day to school, out of school and around the house. If I was feeling particularly low I would put the whole suit on and would feel like I was in a duvet all day!
The coat has seen snow once but not the trousers; maybe this year. I’ve worn the two together and been likened to a traffic cone or pumpkin. I’ve worn the trousers to parties, to supermarkets, to pick up my sister from school, to concerts to ice-skating and to marches.
They are now going into their second winter where I have so far worn the coat 8 times to college and the trousers once. I will continue wearing it until it’s too hot. To beat my mum’s record of wearing the same coat for 13 years and counting I still have a way to go but we’re going strong and I can’t wait to give this to another kid one day (maybe my own) and tell them all about its adventures!
Antonia
21
I love wearing my clothes a lot because it’s almost like they’re old friends I make memories with. I’ve had my low Dr Martens for a few years and they’re my absolute go-to’s for any situation. I still have the first crop top I bought in 2014 which was the first ‘fashion risk’ I ever took. But the piece I love most is a pair of pink trousers; I’ve worn them to weddings, birthdays, even my nan’s funeral. I’ve worn them to uni, to three job interviews, or just hanging out. They’re one of the most me pieces I own and I love them so, so much. They’re starting to wear out at the bum but I’ll keep them for as long as possible!
Stowe
24
I bought a fake leather hoodie from an Italian high street store in 2016, and I wore it almost every day. Probably like 75% of the time I left the house. Sadly after 3 years of regular use it’s decaying and dying; no longer wearable. But it’s proof that clothes last and can be worn many, many, many times, especially if you love it. Honestly, I’m really sad it’s now dead.
Isabella
19
I have a few items that I have had quite a while and love. First, is something that my mom had before I was even born, that is a denim jacket. I ‘took’ it a few years ago and wear it all the time, especially through late spring to early fall. It’s a basic light denim jacket and works with everything. The jacket is a soft worn denim which I love, and it has a few holes on the arm cuffs but it is still in great condition.
The next item is a shirt I got when I was about 13. I have worn this top so much, it’s my go-to top. The top itself is basic, it’s a dark green, form-fitting, and has quarter length sleeves. To be honest, it was from a fast-fashion brand and the quality of it shows that. It is thinning and piling, and a bit see-through in the chest area. I know that it will be too worn out to be used anymore soon.
Another item isn’t necessarily something I’ve had too long or have worn tons of times, mainly because of the item itself; a dress. I bought this dress with the initial intention of using it for prom, but I also wore it for my graduation and one photoshoot. It is not a dress I can wear every day, as it is a special occasion item.
I will continue to use this dress where I can, as I truly love it and I feel good in it. I wanted to mention it because similarly to the original scenario [of Kate Middleton ‘re-wearing’ a coat] many celebrities are called out when they re-wear a dress or outfit to an event. But if it works for multiple events why not re-wear it?
Anonymous
I have so many items of clothing that I have worn for years and years. What started out as a lifestyle born from lack of money, time and energy (college student with depression) morphed into a rather deliberate anti-capitalism statement and has now settled happily into an anti-capitalism, pro-environment stance.
An item of note is a black H&M tank dress that I borrowed from my younger sister in 2010 and never gave back (whoops). I’ve had to sew up seams multiple times and I usually wear it with a sweater or shirt overtop because the fabric of the body is starting to wear through. I NEVER would have guessed that I’d be wearing it (2-3 times a week) almost a decade later but I’m actually pretty proud.
I also have two cotton long-sleeved shirts from the GAP, probably 5 years old, that I wore almost exclusively this summer (and others as well). They’re actually in amazing condition. I know the Gap and H&M are vile as far as corporations go and I wouldn’t buy from them again but I’m happy that I hoarded all my old clothes and didn’t/couldn’t buy new stuff so that at least I am giving these (and will continue to give them) a full life! I have many more but those are my favourites for some reason.
Maria
28
The vast majority of my wardrobe is actually ‘hand-me-downs’ from my mum! My dad’s a fashion designer and we have a ridiculously large amount of vintage and (Japanese) designer clothes around. I wear my mum’s clothes all the time – whether it’s woollen jumpers she’s made or stuff she bought for weddings. But without a doubt my favourite stuff, and the things I want to continue wearing forever, is the stuff she’s made (or that my grandma made). My grandma made a grey sweater, and it’s just so simple, but I love the fact that it’s boxy and I love the wide neckline.
At age 20, my mum made this tiny woollen crop top that fans out at the back. And it’s so great! You’d never find that in a shop. But I think my favourite is this amazing woollen sweater my mum made for my dad – it’s oversize, and it uses Escher’s Bird Fish pattern. I just love the fact that I get to wear something that was made with such love and skill! And it’s super comfy.
I think the most important thing about reusing clothes is actually – A) Never throwing away anything and B) Buying stuff that will hold up and will look good years later. There are so many things in our house which we just didn’t throw/give away, and waited for it to come back in fashion, and now we get to wear it again!
Lucas
42
About 7 years ago I first started being more conscious about my consumer choices. One of the first items I researched and bought was a pair of jeans from the brand Denham, they have a repair-for-life service and were using quality cotton (I did not yet consider all other social/environmental aspects of sustainability).
They are disintegrating now but I still wear them with love, they are also beyond repair as the denim is now so thin it wouldn’t hold the stitching together.
I bought a leather belt in a Mexican street market while on holiday in 2010, and I’ve worn it at least once a week ever since, the quality is so good it still looks presentable with a pair of chinos and a dress shirt. I expect to be cremated while still wearing this belt.
I dropped out of the corporate world in 2015, packed a few t-shirts and a pair of hiking shoes and took off for about 8 months, one of my favourite long-sleeve is made from merino wool and has been through the heat of hell and served as a great layer in colder climates, that thing is still intact except for a tiny little hole that’s not noticeable.
The shoes trekked with me through northern India and most of SE Asia, then served as running shoes when I took that up and now I just wear them to roll around town.
Adriana
18
My favourite item of clothing I’ve worn many times is a long black dress with little flowers all over it. This dress had belonged to my mother and before that, to my grandmother. Both of them used to wear it when they were pregnant. I don’t plan to get pregnant anytime soon, but I would love to wear this dress while I’m pregnant with a daughter that will get to wear this dress when she grows up.
I love to wear this dress, especially to parties, since it is very comfortable yet very pretty. I’ve been wearing it for the past three years and I wish I will for a much longer time.
Phillipa
22
One of my most loved pieces is a pair of corduroy orange shirt-dungarees that my boyfriend thrifted for me in Brighton. They are special to me as after I could not afford the price tag of them in a vintage shop, I sadly left them behind. However, my boyfriend returned to the shop behind my back to buy them for me – which was the cutest surprise!
I’ve had them for two years now and they’ve been well-loved ever since and have come with me to Berlin and Slovenia and will soon be departing with me on a trip to the Netherlands! Because they have a story behind them I love them even more and cherish being able to make them, even more, my own with every wear.
Emily
24
I have many items of clothing that I’ve had in my closet for years, but there are a couple that are particularly special to me I will share. The first is a Wrangler jean jacket that was owned by my Grandma Sheila on my dad’s side. She died when I was quite young, so it’s nice to have a piece of her. I believe that items, especially those we have worn, can carry the energy of the person left behind and of those who made it. I feel safe when I wear it.
I don’t know the exact age of the jacket, it could be anywhere from 30 – 60 years old depending on when she bought it. I like to think it’s the apparel embodiment of ageing gracefully, and wear it all the time – easily one of the most worn items in my closet. I’m excited at the idea of being able to mend and care for it over the years!
Another item I have around that I really love and have worn a ton is a varsity jacket that I keep adding to. The one my high school was selling was 300 USD, and I didn’t want to pay that much so I went to Forever 21 hoping to find a similar one during a varsity jacket trend that hit right at my senior year.
I got lucky because there was a version that happened to be my school colors, green and gold! I know this is about stopping fast fashion, but I have had it for about 7 years and have kept adding to it!
I have my marching band letters; concert band award pins; pieces from all my taekwondo belts and uniform; a sharpshooting patch my Grandma Sheila won, and a bunch of other random ones I have gathered over time!
I always get asked about what is on it, and it’s fun telling the stories. I want to keep adding patches and pins indefinitely until there’s no space left! I think this would get easily spotted as a re-wear because it’s very distinctive! I love wearing it because it jingles a bit when I walk.
Tee
I have had a love affair with vintage clothing as far back as I can remember. The punk era of the late seventies was when I was a teenager; I found the DIY ethos exhilarating! Role models such as Debbie Harry and Poly Styrene customised their look with thrifty, charity shop chic, it was punk couture, very individual. At this point, I wore original sixties winkle picker shoes, oversized men’s shirts and diamanté paste jewellery.
As my income increased, I was fortunate enough to be able to buy designer investment pieces and mix them with my retro finds. And so it was that in 1986 I purchased my beautiful, bottle green, wool gabardine trench coat, by Cacharel. It cost a month’s wages, even though at the time it was half price in the sale in a boutique on Bond Street – but I still wear it today!
It has never dated and is so well made as to have rarely needed repair and is my signature item. It isn’t especially distressed – but has a worn-in feel that means it’s aesthetic is not arriviste and it has accompanied me on all my life adventures, it holds so many memories and will no doubt join me on more! Fast fashion quite simply holds no allure in comparison.
Dora
35
I have a second-hand Mango dress I bought on eBay and loved it ever since. The two summers I couldn’t wear it were when I was heavily pregnant with my children but before and after, it is my must-have for the summer.
Nicole
21
When I was 14 years old, I got a pair of shoes (which I wished for) for Christmas. I absolutely loved them. They were made of leather and you would hardly see me outside not wearing them. They were my all-weather shoes. I wore them from the beginning of September to the beginning of June.
I only gave them a three months long summer-break because it was too hot to wear them (I live in Vienna, Austria). I had these shoes for six years straight and would still wear them if I could find someone who can fix the sole of the shoes because I can feel the ground so much that it nearly feels as if I was going barefoot.
My second piece of favourite item is a green jacket which I ‘borrowed’ from my dad around five years ago for one single night. He never got it back. I love this jacket so much because it is oversized on me, so, I can wear it in the early spring or winter with some other layers underneath it, as well as on a colder summer night. And since it is a men’s jacket, it has a total of six pockets, each so big that I can fit a Penguin book inside. I just absolutely adore and love to wear it.
I am going to wear them until they fall apart and I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. I also love to be able to see these items and know that they carry so many stories with them.
Carley
28
I purchased a used Nicole Miller dress at my favourite second-hand store, Wasteland, in San Francisco about two-and-a-half years ago. I was starting to attend more weddings (joy of getting older) but I didn’t want to let the societal pressure of needing to wear a different dress to every wedding I attended.
I also didn’t want to simply purchase a plain black dress to at least have the dress not be memorable if I wanted to wear it over and over. I purchased a used dress I loved, patterned and all. It is now my go-to dress for every wedding—religious (hello long sleeves), secular, indoor (it breathes!), outdoor (did I mention long sleeves), LA, NYC, etc. Maybe I’ll even wear it to be own wedding one day…
Hannah
25
I have always been a massive hoarder who hates throwing things away. I stopped growing as a young teenager and can’t reach the top shelves, but it does have the benefit that most of my old clothes still fit so I’ve never had to get rid of them! But I particularly love the vintage 80s prom dress that I bought when I was 15 and was beginning to take an interest in thrift shopping.
It has a velvet bodice (which was too long, so, I took it up) and these amazing puffy electric blue sleeves and skirt. I can’t count the number of parties I’ve worn it to but I wore it the New Year’s Eve just gone. 10 years and this dress is still going strong.
Izzy
22
It’s really hard to pick one item but I will just talk about one because otherwise, I’ll discuss most of my wardrobe, but a pair of hand-me-down dungarees that I found in the back of a cupboard, once belonging to my sister, are definitely one of my most worn items of clothing. They’re comfy and practical and I just love wearing them.
Sadly, they are getting a little bit small for me now but my Nan is very happy to take them off my hands when I find another pair of second-hand dungarees! I’m happy they’ll stay in the family and keep getting worn even if I can’t.
Do you have a love story about clothes re-wearing you’d like to share? Share it in the comments or submit it below (in case of a Part 2)!
Climate and environmental activism isn’t new but its most certainly becoming a more common title that people are willing to label themselves as. The climate and ecological emergency is something that threatens all life on earth, so, it’s no surprise that over 7 million people have taken to striking and that over 31,000 people have expressed their interest in participating in Extinction Rebellion UK’s upcoming actions…
However, I recently asked my Instagram followers what stops them from participating in direct climate activism (like the recent Global Climate Strike) and the responses made it incredibly clear why we need to be listening to the masses in order to make movements more accessible for all.
Answers included mental health; physical disabilities; chronic pain; lack of time due to lifestyle and education; anxiety and panic disorders; caring for children and even living in countries which don’t allow for freedom of speech – there are a myriad of reasons why many people can’t take to physical forms of activism (such as a swarming, blocking roads and taking part in strikes and marches).
It wouldn’t be right for me to offer solutions to these very specific and individual cases which often don’t have quick fixes, however, I do believe I can help break down the idea that direct climate activism (or any direct activism, really) can only be supported in those sometimes physically draining and emotionally-tolling activities.
Climate activism (by the likes of Extinction Rebellion – which the majority of my direct activism experience comes from) involves so many roles behind-the-scenes that can be just as vital as those willing to break laws or put themselves up for arrest. Using my own personal experience, I’ve created this basic list which covers some of the ways that I have indirectly supported climate activists and how you can, too…
~ ARRESTEE SUPPORT ~
I have attended court hearings and final verdict hearings in support of local rebels after they have been arrested on actions. This has involved attending court from a few hours to a full day, listening to the proceedings and providing emotional and physical support when needed. For example; giving hugs, doing coffee runs or making sure that people are in the right place at the right time.
How to do it?
Connect with your local activist groups or have an Ecosia (web browser) search for upcoming court dates related to recent actions. Even if you don’t know the individuals, court cases are open to public viewing which means you can come and show that they have people on their side. If you’re part of Extinction Rebellion, you can also put yourself up for an official Arrestee Support role in your local group.
~ ART & DESIGN ~
I’ve created graphics and flyer designs for local actions, in order to support the promotion of actions (even if I haven’t been part of them in a direct way). For example, I created the map used during Extinction Rebellion Bristol’s Summer Uprising, which displayed things like accessible toilets, the kitchen and camping site. I’ve also painted and designed banners for ‘swarming’ (blocking roads) which have been used on actions and become part of my local group’s identity – using upcycled materials, of course.
How to do it?
If you have the tools – you are free to create whatever you think can aid a movement. For Extinction Rebellion, there is a full guide to the ART that is used across the Rebellion; it’s important to stick to the guides as it keeps things as impactful as possible.
~ SOCIAL MEDIA ~
On a similar vein, a lot of the work I do is on social media. I’ve designed the official GIF stickers for Extinction Rebellion; once again, designed graphics for my local groups and upcoming events and have promoted actions in order to reach wider audiences who might be interested in supporting the movement and telling the truth about the climate emergency.
How to do it?
Anyone can support climate activism by using social media. Share tweets from activists (making sure to include minorities or groups who don’t always get the spotlight) or promote upcoming actions. Follow activist groups in your area, even if you’re unable to support in person. With activist groups, typically, this kind of role can be shared so that no one person is solely relied upon, meaning this is a really great role if you have limited time on your hands but you still want to play your part.
~ OUTREACH ~
Supporting direct-action doesn’t always mean taking to the streets or participating in a march or strike; it can also mean doing outreach to find those who are willing to take to the streets, by spending a weekend or a few hours doing things such as leafleting or stall-running. Locally, I’ve worked on stalls which have combined leafleting and activities such as fabric printing (because who doesn’t want activist slogans all over their clothes?). If you’re able to bake – vegan treats like flapjacks and cookies go down a treat and are a great way of raising donations.
How to do it?
Once again, it’s important to connect with a local activist group to see how and when they need your help. If you want to help out with something as simple as baking then it may just be a case of knowing the dates for upcoming events and having a place to drop them off.
~ WELLBEING ~
Speaking of flapjacks… I’ve baked a whole load for actions because activists need food to keep them going! My vegan flapjack recipe (well, this vegan flapjack recipe) is now infamous to my local XR group and works as a great energy boost and stomach filler. If any restaurant owners or chefs are reading – sometimes restaurants even provide free meals for hundreds of people on site (like this incredible vegan curry pictured above). Wellbeing isn’t just providing food though; it can mean emotional support and offering a shoulder to cry on or it can mean donating woolly hats or sunglasses for actions (depending on the season, of course).
How to do it?
Once again, get in touch with your local activist group to see what they’re in need of. If you can’t (or don’t want to) offer emotional support then ask what physical items they’re in need of. Have some spare yoga mats lying about or some reusable water bottles that you’ve collected too many of? Activists taking part in non-violent direction action can always do with things like these.
For the upcoming International Rebellion in London (starting 7th October 2019), October Sustenance are looking for support both in the kitchen and in receiving donations.
~ FINANCES ~
I’ve given to legal crowdfunds for activists who have been arrested in my area and I’ve helped raise donations by manning those outreach stalls and baking those all-important vegan flapjacks. Donations are highly appreciated, especially for legal matters because stepping up to fight for climate justice shouldn’t cost as much as it does for those who are able to put themselves into an arrestable position.
How to do it?
Donate to an environmental organisation or a local activist group nearby to you or find a relevant crowdfund which is in need of support. Crowdjustice is a great place to start.
Have more questions about how you can support climate activism? Ask away in the comments!
All images in this post were taken during Extinction Rebellion Bristol‘s ‘Disrupt the Circus of Excess’ action, protesting against the damaging and harmful fast-fashion industry. Join Extinction Rebellion at London Fashion Week SS20 to be a part of the next Boycott Fashion action.
“I want to be a fashion designer” is a statement I’ve clung to since I was a child.
I was that too proud girl in the class at school who knew exactly what she wanted to be and what she wanted to do with her life. I was the one being praised by the adults because I’d decided exactly what I wanted to do with my life before all of my peers. I needn’t worry about how I was going to get there, so long as I knew it was what I wanted. It came from my family, my teachers, anyone who was approaching me with small talk, and eventually, interviewers and journalists who were interested in knowing more about ‘where my blog all began’.
It’s never been an untrue statement. I used to think up plans for hypothetical dream catwalk shows; I focused a lot of my home education work on designing and understanding how to properly formulate research in order to support a collection’s vision. It’s always been there and it’s always been something I’ve wanted to do. But now, there’s this big bad phrase that seeps into every thought and idea I ever have…
“With a broken planet, we will have no gay rights, no feminism, no respect for trans people, no attempt at fairness and justice for people of colour. What we will have is a fight to survive and a lot of violence.”
I don’t quote this to compare fashion to any form of oppression or unjust inequality (although it definitely exists within the industry) but with a broken planet, we will have no fashion. The fashion industry – the glitz, the glamour, the trends, the fads, the ‘conscious collections’- will no longer exist as it stands because we as citizens of the planet, will have much bigger problems in our hands.
Well, we already do. If we’re paying attention, we’ll be acknowledging the fact that global warming is already seriously at play. When I originally began writing this piece several months ago, India, being one of the largest garment manufacturing countries in the world, was already facing heatwaves of over 50c, causing deaths by heatstroke, melting asphalt roads and extreme water shortages – but since then, even the UK has been hit with extraordinary temperatures of almost 39c, alongside Paris, France, which reached a staggering 42c.
And although there may be no fashion-related link, the Arctic (yes, the Arctic) has just experienced wildfires due to dry conditions following on from ice-sheets melting. We have also even more recently seen the Amazon rainforest set alight, not only from dry conditions but also through intentional action which was supported by the Brazilian President, Jair Bolsonaro. This and previous acts of illegal land clearing have not only been linked to the demand for meat but also to the demand for leather for the fashion industry.
With the textile industry more polluting than maritime shipping and international flights combined (according to Parliament’s inquiry into the Sustainability of the Fashion Industry), I think it’s reasonable for my perception of fashion to have changed, or perhaps even, evolved.
If someone were to ask me now, “Do you want to be a fashion designer?”, my answer would undoubtedly begin with the words, “Yes, but”.
Yes, but only if I can be assured that my Government is doing everything it can to lessen the effects of the climate crisis.
Yes, but only if there are regulations in place for major corporations and global businesses to ensure they’re not overproducing.
(I’d like to include this post from Helpsy, which shows a piece originating from the BBC, with a representative of H&M saying that they’re not going to cut down on the amount of product they offer, despite claiming to be aiming in a more sustainable direction.)
Yes, but only when exportation of manufacturing has become less polluting, less toxic, less exploitative and unethical and we’re doing all that we can to support third world countries which are already experiencing the dangerous impact of the climate crisis.
Yes, but only when we’ve done absolutely everything we can to avoid reaching a disastrous tipping point.
Of course, that’s not to say that there aren’t brands out there already complying with what I consider, ethical and sustainable standards. There are, and as much as I never like to imply ‘we need’ anything – we do need these brands to continue being leading examples. No brand or designer can have zero impact whatsoever, even if you’re reusing fabrics and running your factory on solar power, but those who are headed in that direction, shouldn’t stop. They do indeed provide a purpose.
But that purpose needs to be reevaluated, especially when it comes to how the current cycle of fashion works; including how designers play a part in the likes of London Fashion Week, which this season is said to be its last, at least in a symbolic way, for those attending as part of Extinction Rebellion’s funeral protest on the 17th September 2019. (This will be my first time attending fashion week – oh, the irony).
Fashion week – fashion month, fashion season; whatever you want to call it – is based on the idea of looking to the future. It’s a way of the fashion industry, whether it be fast, luxury, couture or independent, showing the world what to expect to see in stores and in our wardrobes over the coming months. For September 2019, it’s a look at Spring/Summer 2020. A summer which will most likely, be even hotter and more unpredictable than this year.
In my opinion, when looking to the future is becoming ever more daunting and quite frankly, terrifying, the idea of a spectacle as coveted as fashion week continuing on as business-as-usual seems almost inappropriate.
Shouldn’t we be using that time and that energy to focus on how we can make positive changes for Spring/Summer 2020, rather than focusing on clothes that will quickly be replaced next season?
What this point-of-view misses though, is that fashion week (at least in the UK) is in no way detached from fast-fashion and that there is a lot of power and influence in attendance. For years, the British Fashion Council (which organises London Fashion Week), has had the Topshop Showspace on the schedule, with Arcadia Group being one of its patrons and we have seen A-list celebrities and major industry leaders grace front rows.
To say it is a hub of creativity that needs to be protected ignores how intrinsically linked London Fashion Week is to fast-fashion and to how much power the event and its attendees have in creating what could be incredibly influential change.
When it comes to my own – former? – ambitions, the phrase “I want to be a fashion designer”, climate emergency or not, is a pipe dream I’m nowhere near close to making a reality. Sorry, ten-year-old Tolly who had plans to own a store in London by the age of 21 and send her very own models down a catwalk, not only are there slightly more pressing matters to attend to, there’s also life and all of its ups-and-downs to take into account, too.
If I am to start answering the “So, what do you want to do?” question differently, I could start to see my new answer as a selfless act because the truth is – the world doesn’t need me to design new clothes. Just like how it doesn’t need an event to predict upcoming trends when there is already science predicting what will happen if immediate action isn’t taken in the face of our current emergency.
Go into one high street store, browse on one website for clothing or keep up-to-date with just a single luxury designer’s frequent collections, and that’s enough of a reason why. Times it by a thousand, and so on.
Even the fashion industry of years gone by doesn’t need me because the material ghosts of old collections still hang in thousands of second-hand shops and the unworn depths of peoples wardrobes.
I wouldn’t rule that option out completely, of course. I would rather reuse what is already there than contribute to the production of anything new or virgin. Upcycled and remade clothing can be done and it can be done well. Take a look at Christopher Raeburn and Zero Waste Daniel for two prime examples.Get me a studio and a new sewing machine and I’m sure I’ll be off with my best attempt at this.
This isn’t exactly a new realisation; that maybe I, and the planet, have outgrown my childhood dream. I’ve known it for a while now, that I would never want to start my journey as a designer on a path that leads to more environmental and social impact. I would only ever want to do it right.
In fact, this isn’t the first time I’ve announced this publicly either – the first time I did, was during a speech I made on College Green, for Extinction Rebellion Bristol’s Summer Uprising.
No matter how many times we say small steps matter, or that we don’t need to do everything perfectly – I know this is something I would have to do perfectly. I could never start creating something that would harm the planet or my future, more than it already has been and this is the mindset that I believe is lacking from those who continue to support fashion week (and have criticised Extinction Rebellion’s upcoming actions).
This is where I suppose you could say things get a little sad. It reminds me of being in London during Extinction Rebellion’s first International Rebellion Week. A young boy explained that despite the crisis we face, he still really wants to be a musician. That’s his dream, as well as having a family. But, this boy, much younger than me, was questioning it due to the uncertainty of knowing if he has a future that will give him enough time to achieve these dreams.
Kids, who are 10 and 11, will only be in their early twenties by the time that twelve-year countdown comes to an end. That’s where I’ll be soon, and if my life now and everything I’ve ever heard about being a young adult is anything to go by, I still don’t have anything figured out. Even less so, when “I want to be a fashion designer” is something I’m willing to start letting go of.
This is an emergency. If there’s anything I – or other designers – should be designing, it should be a life vest, suitable for wearing in extreme heat and weather conditions when the ice has melted (completely) and sea levels have risen.
If I have the time, that is. In between all of the protests and the fear, I’d quite like to enjoy myself whilst I’m still able to.
Will you be at London Fashion Week? Let me know your thoughts in the comments.
I’ve said this numerous times over the past couple of years but it really is necessary to return to my roots of blogging sometimes and truly appreciate the parts of it that I’ve always enjoyed (like editorial shoots and focusing on second-hand style). With the climate crisis heavy on most of our minds, taking a breather from talking about it directly is a form of mindful self-care…
WHAT I WORE: Orange top (Jumble Sale) // Vintage Skirt (Charity Shop & DIY) // Sneakers (YATAY)*
Notably, this outfit isn’t an everyday look but when I come across the perfect shooting location, I tend to lean towards more creative and bold choices to match, even though this is technically just a three-piece look which takes little to no effort to put together. Of course, it’s all sustainable with the top and skirt both being second-hand.
I found this skirt in a charity shop last year. It was originally a very sheer and frail vintage piece which was much too large on me but the print wouldn’t leave my mind, so, it ended up being one of those “I’ve got to go back and get it!” purchases.
In the end, I sewed together an elasticated underskirt in some white cotton that my mum had lying about. The fact that I didn’t attach it to the floral skirt itself means I can always reuse it for another skirt if it were ever needed. It’s the closest thing to a princess dress you’ll find in my wardrobe and it was quite literally made for me (by me!).
Not only is shopping second-hand far more environmentally friendly but it also brings with it sentimentality and the memories behind each purchase. If we want to love our clothes for longer, we need to connect with them emotionally and I think that’s a little harder to do when browsing through shops which are filled with almost identical pieces, rail after rail.
Having said that, I don’t have much recollection of where this orange top came from. I know it was from a second-hand sale but I can’t remember from where or from what country. It’s one of those tops that I don’t reach for constantly but whenever I wear it, I appreciate its purpose (and its almost perfect colour match to my skirt).
In terms of the shoes, they’re pretty self-explanatory. They’re the sort of shoes that I never would have seen myself wearing a few years ago until I started to realise the only truly versatile pair I owned were a pair of white platform heels. So, in came these to my feet’s rescue and now they’re my go-to summer footwear choice. You can read more about what makes them sustainable, here.
I will be honest though, it’s extremely hard for me to completely compartmentalise my eco-anxiety from what should seemingly be a straight-forward fashion piece, especially when the location I was shooting at seemed like a glimpse into our future. A deserted waterpark or a planet left with what used to be?
I’ve had quite a few of these thoughts lately, especially in my local area where the green spaces and parks are surrounded by houses and roads. If we’re not going to be here, what are we going to be leaving behind? What have we done to what used to be natural and wild?
If I’m to attempt to apply these musings to my clothes, I suppose it circles back to sentimentality, again. I’ve written about this before and I’ve contemplated what items in my wardrobe I would like to pass down to my children (if I have them this is – that’s a whole other conversation to touch on at some point; the fear of bringing a new generation into a world that is going to suffer).
My collection of Dr Martens (which are both second-hand and years old) are going to be passed down no matter what, considering how long-lasting they are. I might cling onto my calf-high pair though, seeing as they’re becoming a piece of history as my ‘protest boots‘.
Speaking of which, like many movements which came before the likes of Extinction Rebellion and Fridays for Future, we’re leaving behind a mark in more than a directly change-making way. We’re leaving behind an identity and memorabilia which we will hopefully look back on as a positive mark of our existence.
I actually recently touched on this subject for AJ+ (part of Aljazeera News), as they interviewed me about fashion and activism and how I use what I wear and create to play a part in demanding climate justice. I used to feel alone in this but there’s such a sense of inclusion when there are ways of indicating your belief in something. Extinction Rebellion flags are already displayed in the V&A in London, so, it’s hard to deny that we’re leaving a mark.
I hope that what we leave behind will be salvageable, whether it’s our clothes or whether it’s waterparks which are starting to overgrow and rewild themselves into something actually rather stunning. Let this be a reminder that what we use, what we own and what we dispose of will remain in some shape or form; that our clothes, much like our buildings, need to be passed down and appreciated rather than left in disarray.
There is so much beauty and life in what has already been used, so, as much as I may fear what the world will look like without me – us – here, you have to imagine everything with the sun setting behind it and be proud of all the things that we’re leaving in an attempt to avoid that ever happening.
So much for a light-hearted return to what should have just been a style post, eh?
How is your eco-anxiety showing up for you? Let me know in the comments…
Whenever I’m asked for advice on experiencing fashion sustainably (I’ve decided I prefer to say experiencing over shopping because consumption isn’t the be-all and end-all of this issue), I tend to always answer with, “Ask questions“, which initially stemmed back to how I came to educate myself on fast fashion’s human and environmental impact.
Fashion Revolution, the organisation that played a big part in my education and understanding of the industry, bases its main campaign around “Who made my clothes?” and asking brands for transparency but to me, this sense of curiosity and urge to ask questions should go further.
With the likes of Extinction Rebellion’s new fashion boycott spurring on more people to analyse their shopping habits and questioning whether we need to be buying any clothes at all (once we already have a decent amount to wear), I believe it’s important to evaluate how we approach shopping – or avoiding it (which I’ve discussed here) – and the language we use. We need to ask ourselves. We need to slow down and understand how we truly feel, and especially when shopping, we need to avoid certain phrases…
“I need this.”
Admittedly, there are times when necessity does come into play. Whether it be for work or school or because something you already own has been damaged or stained to a point of no repair, there are times when ‘needing’ something is excusable. However, there’s a stark contrast between genuinely needing something and labelling an impulse purchase as a necessary one.
I’ve definitely experienced plenty of those, “That’s so me!”, squeal-worthy moments, so, it might seem nitpickish to call this out as an issue but it’s all part of consciously shifting your mindset and attitude towards shopping.
Now that the majority of my shopping occurs on a second-hand basis, I truly understand the difference between needing and wanting. This doesn’t mean that I’m numb to impulse and spontaneous purchases; charity and thrift shops can still bring out that sense of excitement and temporary fulfilment in you but it just comes with minimised guilt.
For me, this distinction between necessity and longing extends to my blog and my approach to receiving samples and gifted products. If I don’t need it or if I already have a similar item in my possession then I will politely decline.
There’s no issue in wanting, in fact, I’ve previously written all about actively lusting over items and why I believe wish lists can be more useful than I once deemed them to be.
“I probably didn’t need this.”
Similarly, this is a phrase which derives from impulse purchases and is almost the exact opposite attitude of what somebody who labels themselves as a ‘conscious consumer’ might have. In simple terms, if you probably didn’t need it, then why did you buy it? ‘Treat yo’ self’ culture is something that we’ve all become fairly desensitized to and it’s understandable, seeing as retail therapy is scientifically proven to be just that – a form of dopamine-inducing therapy.
Shopping sustainably though (or avoiding shopping altogether), is all about taking your time to mull over your decisions and work out what the best option is. To shop, or not to shop? That is the question!
Limiting the number of times we fall back onto the excuse of treating ourselves, is a way of not only restricting the size of our wardrobes but a way of saving ourselves money in the long-run.
“I’m not sure why I bought this.”
I see this to be different to the previous two phrases because it doesn’t just suggest that what you bought was an impulse purchase; it also suggests the attitude you might have towards the item in the future. Shopping sustainably also means owning responsibly.
Fashion Revolution coined the phrase “Loved clothes last”, meaning that if we care and respect our clothes, no matter how ethically produced they were or what materials they are made of, they will ultimately last longer because we will do our best to look after them.
(However, this is not a reason to fall back into the habit of supporting unsustainable and unethical brandsjust because we know we can make their products last. That’s like continuing to use single-use plastic bottles just because you can refill them over and over; there are other ways of doing things that won’t be harmful to start off with.)
None of these phrases strictly imply that you’re living and consuming unsustainably but I believe that what we say and think about our clothes and what we bring into our lives can have a huge effect on our mindset towards consumption. So, if we can change our attitude towards genuinely knowing why we buy what we buy, it could help us all be far more considerate.
“It’s really in trend right now.”
Aside from the sustainability aspect, the lack of guilt and the fact that it’s a habit I’ve had since I was a child, one reason I love shopping second-hand is that it allows so much more room for individuality.
Clothes are not separated into styles and seasons (at most, you might find clothes organised by colour) and there are no look books and stylised campaigns to influence your decision making. There are no trends, which makes avoiding this phrase relatively easy.
Trends and the vast amount which are generated by the fashion industry’s constant cycle of seasons, maintain the rate of production of new garments and feed into this idea that what we are wearing and searching for, is never enough. There will always be another season with another set idea of what we should be wearing, therefore, another reason to buy.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying trends but I recommend taking the time to sit with those feelings and analyse them once the peak of the trend has passed. I use apps like Depop and the Saved function of Instagram to store trend-led items for sale so I can source them sustainably in the future if the style is still something I appreciate.
“I really need to stop buying more [insert item of clothing]…”
This is the phrase which I believe is easiest to scrap entirely. Don’t get me wrong, it’s understandable (and even appreciated) when somebody owns something in their wardrobe in a selection of different colourways because it’s a dress/shirt/pair of trousers that fits and suits them better than anything else – for some people, that’s essential, especially when it comes to finding the right sizing (even more so from an ethical or sustainably focused brand which might not always have the most inclusive size-ranges).
When it comes to your wardrobe as a whole though, it’s time to recognise when enough is enough. For me? I don’t need any more blouses and tops. I have too many to balance out the number of bottoms (trousers, shorts and skirts) that I own.
That doesn’t mean that I’m going to suddenly decrease the size of my wardrobe (a smaller wardrobe doesn’t necessarily make a more sustainable one) but it does mean I need to be making the conscious effort to stop adding more in the future, even if it is from a guilt-free source like a local charity shop.
Analyse your wardrobe and figure out what your limit is. From my experience, physically limiting myself (with a lack of storage space or from living out of a suitcase) has meant I’ve been able to calculate this more easily.
What other phrases can you avoid to achieve a more sustainable mindset? Suggest them in the comments!
Arctic permafrost is rapidly melting.
France is sweltering in record-breaking heat.
India is suffering from severe droughts and water shortages.
Mozambique is recovering from a devastating cyclone.
The UK is being hit with heaving rain and flooding.
Guadalajara faces 1.5 metres of hail in summertime.
We only have 11 years.
We only have 5 years.
We can’t go above 2 degrees Celsius of warming.
100 companies are responsible for 71% of global emissions.
It’s an Emergency.
So, recycle.
Reuse.
Don’t drive.
Use a reusable bottle.
Avoid single-use plastic.
Shop small.
Shop organic.
Save water.
Go vegan.
Be hopeful.
But it’s hard to be hopeful, right?
On my journey of eco-awareness, I’m currently at the stage of beginning to accept that perhaps, we don’t have 11 years. Maybe, it’s actually too late. Maybe, this is the beginning of the end.
In fact, I’d say ’11 years’ is becoming more of a metaphorical statement. In the academic (and what from what I’m gathering, slightly controversial) paper that gave me the last push to start writing this, ‘Deep Adaptation: A Map for Navigating Climate Tragedy‘ written by Professor Jem Bendell, it states that the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) which made this 11 year claim we’re all focusing on, has a history of underestimating the rate of environmental changes, due to how the panel works over long periods of time in conducting reports.
This means that 11 years is likely far too optimistic. Some suggest we should be looking at 5 years, or even less; with things like melting permafrost (a layer of soil that remains frozen for long stretches of time) that risks releasing 3 gigatonnes of methane, with a far stronger effect on climate than CO2, we could face the real effects of the climate crisis in the next decade.
(I’m hesitant to say we most likely will face this. Nothing is certain, of course. If anything, we have that to cling on to.)
With information like this being fed to us in the palms of our hands on a daily basis (thanks to the privilege of being able to educate ourselves with smartphones and access to the internet), it’s no surprise that ‘eco-anxiety’ is on the rise and papers like that of Professor Bendell’s are now becoming something we have to read with a sense of caution.
Is it healthy for us to constantly be bombarded with news and statistics that suggest that we are currently amidst the world’s Sixth Mass Extinction? Will we read something insightful and educational or will we come away feeling distraught and emotionally exhausted?
It’s only recently that I have reached this point of acceptance and that what I read and learn has become less a tool for inspiring positive change but more a way of coping. Although I don’t want this piece to become pro-one specific solution or example of how to move forward, this shift in how I’m approaching the climate conversation has most certainly derived from my experiences with Extinction Rebellion.
In the Extinction Rebellion handbook, ‘This Is Not A Drill‘, the chapter on ‘Climate Sorrow’ by Susie Orbach (a British psychotherapist), resonated with me greatly.
“What is required of us psychologically to engage with rather than cut off from this knowledge? How can we envision what is happening when it isn’t right in front of us? It’s difficult to imagine one’s own death. How much more impossible to imagine that human activities might mean extinction?”
This Is Not A Drill - pg. 66
As much as I talk openly about climate issues (whether they be fashion-related or about Earth, as a whole), I still find it hard to genuinely get a grasp on what it all means. I’m fortunate that living in the UK, the effects of the climate emergency have yet to hit with full force which means I’m not seeing it on my doorstep, yet.
We still see weather over 30 degrees Celsius as a ‘heatwave’. We still see storms as a burst of ‘heavy rain’. This makes it hard for me to imagine what our lives will become and (sometimes) to truly believe in what I’m saying.
But there is enough evidence to now suggest that it is too late; that those heatwaves and the risk of flooding we face are just a glimpse of what’s to come; that when I’m 50 and the UK has supposedly reached its net-zero target (somehow, even though the Government is happy to watch the expansion of Heathrow Airport go ahead and to reject all recommendations that could ensure a more sustainable fashion industry), the world will be changed forever; that the technologically advanced future we’d envisioned with flying cars could become one of starvation and war.
Professor Bendell also wrote in ‘This Is Not A Drill’ and a line that I’ve come back to several times over and that has managed to make me cry on more than one occasion, is this –
“Most of all I now grieve for the young, and the more beautiful world they will never inherit”.
I am coming to terms with this. I am coming to terms with the uncertainty of my future. I am coming to terms with the fact that the uncertainty of my future is no longer about the ‘big life stuff’ (my plans, my career, my hopes, my dreams) but about the uncertainty of our existence and how painful it may become.
I essentially, feel hopeless.
Yet, I’m not giving up. I believe there is a difference. To give up is to look the other way and carry on, business as usual. It is to let those in power, off the hook. To feel hopeless is to accept your feelings and go through the motions of experiencing grief for what we have lost already and for what we will lose in that future of uncertainty. Giving up is letting that hopelessness win.
In line with this, it’s known that when we face a tragic event or overcome trauma, we are often forever changed by what took place. Take my own personal experience – I am the survivor of four major earthquakes that happened in Italy during 2016.
You can read my full account a few days after the initial shock here but essentially, I have lived through seeing my life flash before my eyes. I feared for my life. As I crawled under a table as the earth roared from beneath me, I feared that I would never meet my youngest nephew who had recently been born. I feared so much and then it was over. I was safe.
Admittedly, I wasn’t a whole new person when I moved away from that situation (I put this down to being extremely fortunate in that I came away without a scratch) but I remember that feeling of wanting to take on the world with a new sense of ambition. If I could survive that, I could survive anything.
So, it makes me wonder; can we preemptively take on the world with a new sense of purpose, if we can already see the disaster about to happen? You can’t predict an earthquake happening in the dead of night but you can predict that we have a decade to lessen the effects of a climate catastrophe.
Can we use that hopelessness that would usually happen in the midst of an ongoing tragedy, to prepare us? Can we use it to experience the next decade at its fullest potential? Can we start to appreciate the Earth for all that it is, when we know we may lose our place on it?
“Acknowledging our feelings – to ourselves, to one another – makes us more robust. We need to mourn and organize. It should not be one or the other.”
This Is Not A Drill - pg. 67
WHAT I WORE: Floral Blouse (Vintage Kilo Sale) // Carhartt Dungarees (Depop) // Butterfly Sneakers (Po-Zu)*
There is power in feeling hopeless because it gives you time to mourn, grieve and then spend your time wisely. How you do that, is up to you. Whether you join a Rebellion; continue to make lifestyle changes that are not only beneficial to the planet that we may leave behind but beneficial to you and your health, or whether you simply keep these conversations going on in your personal circles in order to help others come to terms with climate sorrow and this sense of hopelessness that is all too easy to become overwhelmed by – making the most out of what we have, is one of the best things we can do.
I’ll be on the streets; singing, dancing, holding hands and uniting with others who are all in the same (pink) boat.
After all, if what we’re facing – impending doom, an apocalypse; whatever name you want to give it – is already making us want to give up, why on Earth would we want to make our remaining time on this planet, any more unbearable?
