Sustainability in fashion: Let’s all just slow down
Fashion is often used as a way of demonstrating style and signifying personality. But amid growing concern about the irreversible consequences of fast fashion on the climate over the past few decades, we have been forced to re-evaluate our toxic relationship with the fashion industry. Consumers have begun to question the products they are buying, where they are coming from, and what they are made of. Fast fashion brands have responded with an insincere answer: greenwashing. The term was coined by an environmentalist named Jay Westerveld in the 1980s, as a way of describing the language hotels used when requesting guests to reuse their towels, feigning an environmental concern to conceal what was, in actuality, an attempt to lower laundry costs. Many modern fast fashion brands have adopted the same strategy of deception, redressing mission statements to appear to prioritise the planet’s health. Underneath the curated eco-friendly facades, advertising collections and garments made with lower emission offsets, lies a sole focus on capital and profit, disregarding the output of products on the planet.
To combat the lack of certainty of which brands can be trusted in their statements, many consumers who are sincere in engaging in a more ethical and sustainable consumption of fashion have turned to buying second-hand. The ‘Resell’ industry has witnessed a seismic boom in the last five years, being projected to make up 10% of total fashion sales this year. It appears to be a promising turn within the fashion industry, as shoppers are attempting to consume more conscientiously.
However, the fast fashion industry’s impact in its decades of domination extends far beyond damaging the planet. It has irreversibly changed how people buy and how people understand their relationship with fashion and clothing. Brands and retailers sold clothes as an idea, an indicator of who you are as a person. The arrival of the internet and social media only inflated this concept, entangling consumption with the incessant upkeep of ever-changing trends and the perpetual idea that you must engage to be seen as stylish and interesting.
The unfortunate truth is that the rise of second-hand “sustainable” fashion does not indicate that our consumption habits have changed at all, only that we have found a new medium for it. TikToks now feature ‘thrifting hauls’ rather than the mountainous Shein orders that were hugely popular during and in the aftermath of the pandemic. The rise of second-hand buying has not resulted in a decrease in sales and purchases within fast fashion, highlighting that the success of second-hand buying has little to do with sustainability but is a more affordable way to continue shopping in excess. It provides a damning indictment of society’s embedded culture of overconsumption.
The growing popularity of thrifting has also brought several complications regarding charity shops and vintage stores. What were once seen as affordable and accessible alternatives have become increasingly gentrified spaces. Prices have risen, driven by both growing demand and resellers buying in bulk to flip items online at a profit. For lower-income shoppers who once relied on these stores, this shift has made ethical consumption even more difficult. It is a stark reminder that even sustainability movements can mirror the same exclusivity and inequality that plague the fashion industry at large. If we are to celebrate the thrifting boom, we must do so with awareness, resisting the temptation to treat charity shops as another extension of trend-driven consumption.
Like everything these days, there is no straightforward answer. What is important to recognise is that whatever solution is offered, it will most likely be unachievable for certain groups in society. The sustainability conversation tends to lean into the idea of clothes as an investment, spending more in return for an item of quality that will have longevity. It is sound reasoning for those with the money to afford it. But these actions can often become entangled with sentiments of moral superiority, judging people of lower incomes in their continued engagement with fast fashion. The internet often likes to forget the nuance of reality in a bid to offer easy solutions to complicated issues.
What is needed instead is a slower, more reflective engagement, not only with the things we buy, but with the systems that make us want to buy them. And I don’t write this article to sound moralistic or preachy. I am as guilty and susceptible to a cheeky little ASOS order, to lift the spirits, as the next girl. That small hit of dopamine does not occur by chance; it is intentionally curated by fashion companies to keep you coming back for more. Fashion has always been a language, a way of expressing identity, but our current relationship with it is one of restlessness and disposability. To build something more sustainable, we must reimagine our connection to clothing as one rooted in care, creativity, and community rather than novelty. This could mean learning to mend, swap, or share garments, supporting local makers, or rediscovering the satisfaction of wearing something well-worn and familiar. Slowing down is not a simple or singular act; it is an ongoing practice of resisting the constant pull of the consumption we are constantly encouraged to participate in.
Writer: Maeve Ruane Ronayne @maeveruaneronayne
Editor: Shaunamay Martin Bohan @f4wnfatale
