Society, in a myriad of aspects, is moving faster and faster. Beginning with the industrial revolution, and certainly since the 1970s, we have experienced future shock. It seems that nothing stays the same for more than a few years, hrm-hmm, days. This holds true for fashion. Time was that we could view fashion trends by the century, and then by the decade. Since the 1970s, fashion changes by the year. And now we are experiencing “fast fashion,” clothing that is made of cheap and flimsy fabric and construction, and is meant to only last for one season. The push is for us to throw it out and buy a whole new wardrobe four times a year.
I, for one, am not going for a disposable wardrobe. I have clothing in my closet that I wear, and have worn, for thirty years. I have used reusable diapers and feminine pads, glass and waxed cloth food storage, and many other sustainable household necessities. Much of my clothing, and my daughter’s school wardrobe, came from thrift shops, and we have received many compliments on our boho and cottage core attire. Well, that was a few decades ago. I rarely find worthwhile garments in the thrift store now, because newer clothing seldom lasts, with the post modern fabric and construction being so inferior that much of it ends up in land fills. On a hopeful note, some garment waste is being creatively repurposed, such as into “fabricks,” an innovative idea for construction building bricks.
To be sure, thrift stores are not a new concept. Old clothes markets have existed in urban areas in Britain and Europe since at least the 17th century. The wealthy often gave old clothing to servants or to charities when they had new clothing made by a tailor or dressmaker. Some clothing, such as coats and cloaks, lasted a lifetime, and were even passed down to the next generation.
For less wealthy people, and for those with a creative spirit, worn out clothing could be cut down to fit children, or small bits of fabric were fashioned into quilts. Some of these quilts from centuries past are merely serviceable, and some are works of art. A quilt can serve as a family storyteller, as well. A young person may say, “That fabric is the dress I wore when I was little.” or “Grandma used to wear that apron when she baked cookies.” The fabric itself is a keeper of memories.
For those of us who craft and sew, it is always exiting to make a trip to the fabric store and pick out a few new pieces for our stash. On the other hand, I am finding it to be more and more rewarding to add old garments and old fabric remnants and quilt scraps to my stash.
I used to raid my mother’s rag bag, when I was a child just beginning to experiment with needle and thread, to make clothes for my dolls, mostly Barbie. And now, I still save worn items to cut and re-use. Old cotton nightgowns often have lovely lace at the neckline that is not worn and can be remade into garments for children or dolls.
And often, a garment is not worn out, but just needs repair. “As for mending, I think it’s good to take the time to fix something rather than throw it away. It’s an antidote to wastefulness and to the need for immediate gratification. You get to see a whole process through, beginning to end, nothing abstract about it. You’ll always notice the fabric scar, of course, but there’s an art to mending. If you’re careful, the repair can actually add to the beauty of the thing because it is a testimony to its worth.” ~ Elizabeth Berg “The Art of Mending” 2004
There are many ways, still for us in the 21st century, to not fall victim to fast fashion and a throw-away mentality. Good quality clothing can still be found new at reputable stores, though it is likely to cost more than that $6 bargain at the outlet mall. With diligent searching, you may find a gem or two at the local thrift store. (My daughter still puts together her retro/chic outfits through thrift shopping.) And, of course, learning to sew is, even now, a most valuable skill. As with cooking, when you sew items yourself, you are in control of the quality of the materials, of the construction, and of the style of the embellishments. Mending and re-using garments is a remarkable setting for creativity, and it is a sustainable practical art that helps to protect our natural environment by reducing waste.
Next post coming soon: Learn all about how Indigo came into being, from a shoulder-head, an old leather body, and old clothes and remnants for a fittingly slowly constructed blue dress.
May you always have the style that is meant for you, and that makes you comfortable and happy.