Money is the typical contention point of ethical fashion, because price is, of course, fast fashion’s forte. And once we have accepted that 5€ t-shirts are possible, how do you convince people that it has to be 30 at least? The fact that most online pushers of sustainable fashion either make it, distribute it or receive it for free to
review it plug it in doesn’t help either.
be the change you want to be in the world tell where at least my money goes while following my list of priorities in wardrobe detoxing, here you have the first half of 2017 and the second half, and this post is about last six months, January to June 2018. You have a full list above and more details below, from most euros spent to least.
Learning to sew ≈ the beige skirt: 214.20 €.
This is a bit contentious, yes, as I could say that all money spent on me learning to sew is an investment in valuable skills but the spreadsheet doesn’t lie. Making this one skirt took me a lot of time, money and frustration, and although I didn’t even buy the main material – it was a give-away from Julie’s stash – turning that piece of lyocell a skirt cost me more than 200 €.
Although this might not have been the most rational way to spend my money as I could have found something good enough to serve as an alternative bottom for the WAG top in one of the swaps (0 €) or by exploring all local second hand shops (certainly less than 200 €), I have learnt things on the way.
(1) Sewing is hard. Even when done by professionals and on an industrial assembly line, every stitch is a conscious effort. That brings us back to the ultra-cheap garments and asking how is that possible as the skill involved is not trivial…
(2) I lack precision. It is true that I had picked a tricky fabric to work with but even so, precision is a non-cognitive skill I have to work on.
(3) There are many ways how learning to sew can be a slippery slope towards a more abundant wardrobes and more clutter at home. I’ve already started accumulating projects for unclear future, having fantasies about fixing suboptimal garments instead of letting go of them and desire to buy notions that I might need eventually. Self-control, being in touch with reality, and focusing on upcycling/fixing/working with our own deadstocks instead of purchasing new.
Verdict: Not efficient but I’m learning a new skill.
Veja Wata Pierre: 74.95 €.
I’ve already complained about my footwear problem: I found the optimal model and then Veja stopped producing it. So Wata is a rather meh replacement. I had to get rid of both pairs of Taua I had because they looked to sad, so a replacement was warranted but didn’t really make me happy: too big, too much rubber, took longer to break in. I will shred through them, of course – they’ve got 51 wears already and they arrived in May – but the amount of joy is not the same. It is possible, though, that I will get another pair when these ones dies, Veja is the best option I have found.
Verdict: Needed, not 100% happy.
Taller Mil•límetre silver earrings: 60 €.
My splurging-loving side and my reasonable side made a deal that – after all the investment I made in the beige skirt – I wouldn’t buy a new outfit but could get a pair of dark massive earrings to pull it together. Worked out very well for that night and I’m happy to have found that workshop (a great place for Barcelona-made jewellery, a shop run and stocked by three talentd girls), but I just don’t wear earrings so much anymore, so we’ll see. Maybe return to earring will be my autumn project, because these babies need their #100wears too.
Verdict: A whim I now have to wear again, again and again.
Lauma Tuxedo bra x 2: 49.90 €.
Lauma is a legend in Latvian social imagination supporting Latvian women’s breasts since 1971, and, after finding one model I’m happy with (and they call it their ‘classic’ line so I hope it will be available forever), I’ve just decided to get a couple of those every year and be done with it. The model is Tuxedo (but of course!) in black and these are the only two dress bras I have + a sports bra. From now on this will be my New Year’s ritual in Rīga: buying two new of these in early January, sending to textile trash the previous two, and not thinking about bras until next January. They have no additional credentials in sustainability, but I’ve decided that it’s OK for me now.
Verdict: Needed. Satisfied. Will go back for more.
Toni Pons Montgri: 29.95 €.
I finally bought the classic – Julio Iglesias – espadrille in ecru for my KonMari consulting work. I needed something unassuming, clean-looking and practical enough. They are sturdy looking, made in Spain and sworn to be vegan (there’s a little leather-looking tag at the back, but I’ll assume it’s plastic if they say so). I wear them only for KonMari sessions in order to keep them clean, so the #100wears desire has a whole different level of aspiration attached to this pair.
Verdict: I think I found the exactly the right thing for the intended use. Score. And I was espadrille-curious for a long time.
Repairing the Muroexe boots: 7.50 €.
The little plastic Muroexe boots with the most dangerous sole needed a fix. I’m still ambivalent about these boots, so fixing them was a passive-agressive act of standing by my early 2017 decision of getting them. Yes, they are vegan and made in Spain which is not the case for all of their designs, but they have ended up being smelly (it is a closed plastic boot and my feet smell in those conditions even if I wear them only during my commute) and, what is even more perversely interesting, talk about creators inability to understand winter. These have 0 grip making them inappropriate for wet weather and prone to have you rolling down the stairs (that happened to me in December and I’ll have a grudge forever). And coming apart after 30 or so wears just added insult to injury. Of course, the local cobbler was happy to pour glue at them, and I’m resisting all those design flaws! Until something clearly better comes around, I’m sticking with these. I live in Barcelona, after all, I don’t really need winter boots anyway.
Verdict: Résistance! But of course.
The spreadsheet says that only 30% of my wardrobe spending in last six months has been strictly necessary, while another 49% had the added benefit of learning a long-desired skill. The only true whim was the earrings, but I’ll work on giving them many more wears and I’m consoled by having supported local girl artists.
What have been your wardrobe investments in last half a year? Do you have a fashion budget or do you move in intuitive ways? Which fashion spending is yours: the truly rational based in need, the capricious stemming from ‘oh so beautiful’ or the one looking for added value (what else apart from the garment do you get, who made it, who benefited)? Have you ever found yourself making the added value excuses of ‘I didn’t really need this but at least it from the little local shop / responsibly made’?