protest

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.

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…

CLIMATE EMERGENCY

I’ll take from the Extinction Rebellion handbook here, referencing a paragraph from page 70, written by Matthew Todd:

“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.

(Including acting on recommendations put forward by the Environmental Audit Committee.)

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?

One argument which has been raised since Extinction Rebellion announced their planned presence at London Fashion Week, is that fast-fashion should be the focus and that we should still be appreciating the creative side of fashion month and what it does for independent designers.

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 know that bite-sized breakdowns of information are often the best way of getting things across, so, in this post, I’m going to explain what the Bangladesh Accord is, in simple terms. It might not even be something you’re aware of, so perhaps this will even be a little eye-opening…

Scan of Fashion Revolution’s Zine Issue #1 – Artwork by Alke Schmidt

What is the Bangladesh Accord?

The Accord on Fire and Building Safety in Bangladesh was founded in the aftermath of the Rana Plaza garment factory collapse, in May 2013. It was initiated by trade unions – organised groups of workers formed to protect their rights in the workplace – in Bangladesh, as well as global unions and labour rights groups.

The Accord required all companies and brands who signed it to be completely transparent in revealing their factories and putting in place building inspections to ensure that the factories being used were safe from any dangerous hazards, relating to fire, electricity and structural safety.

It is also asked of those brands signed onto the Accord, to be responsible for finding the funds to implement any changes or safety measures that were needed should they appear upon inspection.

One of the most important factors the Accord put in place, was the right for workers to refuse unsafe work without losing pay or suffering any form of discrimination or harm – I highlight this, as it is known workers involved in the Rana Plaza collapse voiced concerns about the factory’s condition before it occurred.

Essentially, the Bangladesh Accord ensured the safety of garment workers, those of which provide the clothes for hundreds of brands worldwide, including those which had signed on since 2013.

H&M, G-Star RAW, Arcadia Group, Debenhams, Fat Face, John Lewis, Marks & Spencer, Matalan, Mothercare, New Look, Next, Primark, and River Island, are some of the names included.

What has the Bangladesh Accord achieved?

In 2012, prior to the Rana Plaza disaster, there was the Tanzeen Fashion factory fire, which killed over 100 people and injured over 200. Similar incidents have also occurred since then, with 24 people killed in a packaging factory in 2016 (although not directly linked to garments, it’s a clear sign that this issue goes further than clothing production).

In an update released by the Accord in December 2018, 97% factories inspected lacked safe fire exits and 91% of factories required an adequate fire alarm system. These are basic needs you would expect of a factory, yet, they were still lacking and putting workers at risk. Instability of factory buildings was also found at 62% of those inspected.

(As somebody who has experience with earthquakes, the photo evidence in the update released reminded me of structural damage I’ve seen and felt unsafe with, in person – and that’s just from a house, not a building which is supposed to withhold heavy loads and powerful machinery.)

The Accord successfully worked at putting these sorts of safety and structural measures in place.

Is the Bangladesh Accord still in place?

In 2018, the new Transition Accord was put in place to ensure the continuation of the Accord in protecting the safety and rights of garment workers – and textile workers, as a whole. However, the Government of Bangladesh have since decided they would like to get rid of the Accord and the take on the responsibility with the national organisation known as the RCC or ‘Remediation Coordination Cell‘.

The Accord states that the RCC is not prepared to take on the responsibility due to lack of staffing and knowledge. The Accord would like to continue the work being done until 2021, as agreed upon when work first began, in order to transfer the knowledge and continue to aid the hundreds of factories which are still lacking in safe working conditions.

Without the Accord monitoring factories at such a scale, it’s possible that there would be no way to guarantee fixes are being put in place, meaning brands under the Accord would have to cut ties with their factories – as part of their legal agreement -, which could run the risk of Bangladesh losing a substantial amount of business in manufacturing, leaving many without jobs and income. This helpful article by Fashion United breaks it down even further.

What does this mean about the clothes we buy?

Due to the fact that Bangladesh is the 2nd largest producer of clothing in the world, it’s safe to say that a majority of what we wear is still being produced in what the Accord has found to be unsafe working conditions, putting millions of garment workers at risk every day, for our benefit – and this isn’t counting any of the discriminatory behaviour, harassment or abuse that occurs in these factories on a daily basis, the majority of which is towards exploited and underpaid female workers.

In most recent news in early January 2019, there has been a protest from Bangladeshi garment workers fighting for higher wages which caused the death of one worker and left many injured, after clashes with the police.

What can we do about it?

Support organisations such as Clean Clothes Campaign, who were one of the initial witnesses of the signing of the Accord, by sending a letter to the Bangladesh Prime Minister through the #ProtectProgress petition campaign. The goal is to reach 6,400 letters sent and all it takes is a minute of your time. The letter will send a signal that you care about the rights and safety of garment workers and would like the work of the Accord to continue.

Labour Behind The Label also needs your support. On January 30th 2019, during Bangladeshi Garment Workers Week, Labour Behind The Label is holding an urgent protest in London outside of the Bangladesh High Commission, in order to stand in solidarity of those protesting in Bangladesh itself, and to raise awareness that the Accord is still wanted and necessary to ensure a fairer fashion industry. I will be there and I hope you have the ability to be there, too.

In terms of consumption and shopping, boycotting brands who produce from Bangladesh will never work unless it’s in vast numbers; it will also never be the end goal. However, for sustainability reasons, you may already be cutting down how much you buy new and what brands you choose to support, so, I of course, urge you to continue doing so.

Slowing down is what will inevitably help steer garment factories in a safer direction because there will be less demand and therefore, less pressure, whether that be on the workers, the buildings that surround them, or the planet.

Were you aware of the Accord before? Do you have any more questions? Let me know in the comments!