I’ve never given up something for a lengthy period of time before. A coworker gave up ice cream for a year. A friend gave up meat for Lent. I admired their willpower and wanted to do a similar pledge. I liked the idea of giving up something that would benefit the earth. On my 30th birthday, I decided not to purchase any new clothing for the entire year. The agreement included coats, shoes, socks, and accessories - neither brand new or secondhand.
For the most part, it wasn’t difficult to abstain from clothes shopping. In fact, I found it liberating. No more mindless hours online shopping. No more buying things that I might wear once and that would no doubt clutter my closet. This freedom from scrolling meant more time listening to podcasts, reading books, and not thinking about shopping.
Of course, there were a couple notable moments when my commitment almost wavered. Sometimes, I would simply forget that I was doing the challenge and found myself reaching for a new shirt that caught my eye. The other time was when Reformation (one of my favorite brands) had its annual sale. I’ll admit that the desire to purchase was great. I even let myself browse through the website, only to realize a few minutes later that I didn’t really need anything new. To help eliminate as much temptation as possible, I unsubscribed from all promotional emails from brands and stores and I unfollowed most Instagram handles related to fashion and beauty, especially the ones constantly promoting #ads.
After my year of shopping abstinence, I’ve learned that:
Retail “therapy” isn’t actually therapy. From a young age, I was taught to measure my self-worth by the things I had. For years, I convinced myself that retail therapy made me happy and that more is better when in fact these notions distracted me from deep issues I had about insecurity and belonging.
My desire to want things won’t go away but I can be smarter about it. I think it’s human nature to want to possess things. This year has taught me that the things I want don’t need to be brand new, the most expensive, or right away. I can consume wisely with secondhand, local, and plastic-free items.
The most sustainable garment is the one already in my wardrobe. I’m forced to be more creative with the clothes I have and find ways to rewear. For me, old is the new new.
During this challenge, I’ve been more attuned to studies on fast fashion and the detrimental impact it has on our environment. Stats like these make me want to continue my challenge so that it becomes part of my lifestyle. For sure compromises can be made - I can commit to avoiding polyester or acrylic purchases or to only purchasing secondhand denim.
The fashion industry is designed to make you feel “out of trend” after one week. Once upon a time, there were two fashion seasons: Spring/Summer and Fall/Winter. Fast forward to 2014 and the fashion industry is churning out 52 “micro-seasons” per year. With new trends coming out every week, the goal of fast fashion is for consumers to buy as many garments as possible, as quickly as possible. (Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion)
Fast fashion garments, which we wear less than five times a year and keep for 35 days, produce over 400% more carbon emissions per item per year than garments worn 50 times and kept for a full year. (Forbes)
Manufacturing a single pair of jeans requires toxic chemicals, dyes that decompose slowly, and 800 gallons of water. (Popular Science)
Nearly 70 million barrels of oil are used each year to make the world’s polyester fiber, which is now the most commonly used fiber in our clothing. But it takes more than 200 years to decompose. (Forbes)
Fashion’s consumption of resources - especially water and oil - is projected to double by 2030. (Common Objective)
Just remember: We have power in what we buy, but we have just as much power in what we don’t.