"Sustainable" Fashion

“The most environmentally friendly product is the one I choose not to buy.”

This year, I’ve been on a quest to rid my closet of synthetic materials like polyester, acrylic, and rayon, and try to only wear natural fibers as much as possible. Natural fibers like cotton, hemp, and wool.

My quest began while folding laundry. Shaking out clothes before folding them, I sneezed at the lint that floated about. That got me thinking about what the lint was made of, what my clothes were made of. The more I thought about wearing synthetic materials, the more I realized the microplastic they shed. Microscopic pieces of plastic are in the dust we breathe, in the washer where materials rub and wear against each other, and in the tap water we drink. This is one of the harmful side effects of our fast fashion industry. Fast, cheap clothing is most likely made of fast, cheap materials.

I’ve taken a good hard look at my closet and discovered that most of it is synthetic. All of my leggings are made from polyester. All of my dresses are made from polyester, rayon, or viscose. All of my underwear and bras consist of spandex or nylon. All but one pair of jeans have elastane. Most of my sweaters have some percentage of acrylic. The only items in my closet made of 100% cotton are my t-shirts and even then, their tags are made of polyester.

In an effort to transform my toxic wardrobe into a more intentional one, I’ve learned the hard way that so-called “sustainable” brands sell clothing made of synthetic fibers, ship in plastic packaging, and create waste. This is my cautionary tale that even “sustainable” brands promote some level of greenwashing.

In my mind, a truly “sustainable” brand does two things:

1. Eliminates plastic from every aspect of its product lifecycle, from creation to end-of-life. It ships plastic-free and is responsible for keeping the product out of landfills and oceans.

2. Refuses to sell synthetic materials - materials that are known to be toxic and non-biodegradable. I know it’s difficult to make stretchy clothing without elastane/lycra/spandex but I call upon brands to innovate in this space.

I highlight below “sustainable” brands I’ve purchased from over the past few years - what I love and didn’t love about them. They all partake in greenwashing in some way. This blog post isn’t meant to make anyone feel bad. Instead, I hope it helps us think more deeply about the clothes we purchase.

Amour Vert

What they promote (on their website):

We are green love. Our sustainable practices address all aspects of our business operations and the full lifecycle of the garment: the fibers and production processes used, how workers are treated, how it gets to the consumer, and finally—whether it can be recycled or is forced into a landfill.

The pros:

Classic, minimalist designs. I love that I can find pieces made from 100% certified organic cotton. Some of their products ship in compostable bags.

The cons:

While some of their products ship in compostable bags, many are still shipped in plastic bags. Though these plastic bags are “recyclable”, people rarely do, in fact, recycle them. And like many clothing brands, their clothes come with plastic tags and fasteners which again, they say is “recyclable” but isn’t really. Even if a material is “recyclable”, brands aren’t truthful about whether it’s accepted in most municipalities and aren’t held accountable for material actually being recycled. The likelihood of a tiny tag fastener being recycled is slim to none.

Everlane

What they promote (on their website):

We all leave an impact on the planet, so we should all play a part in cleaning up our footprint. Businesses especially must help lead the way. At Everlane, we are working to do our part by building an ethical supply chain that creates high-quality, low-impact, long-lasting products. We carefully consider our materials and work with our production partners to reduce waste, chemicals, and plastics that endanger our planet’s ecosystems. Our timeless basics are designed to last—so making the right choice by the planet can be as simple as putting on a T-shirt.

The pros:

Classic, minimalist designs. I love that I can find pieces made from 100% certified organic cotton.

The cons:

I have two main issues. Firstly, the items I ordered came in plastic bags. Even though they say their bags are made from recycled plastic, the truth is that people rarely recycle plastic again, particularly bags. Secondly, the pair of jeans I purchased came with plastic fasteners that attached a tag to one of the back pockets. I hate plastic fasteners. They quickly become smaller pieces of plastic and can’t be recycled because of their tiny size.

MATE the Label

What they promote (on their website):

MATE is a Clean Essentials brand made sustainably in Los Angeles with non-toxic, natural and Organic materials.

The pros:

There is zero plastic with a MATE purchase. It’s the only clothing brand I’ve found to be completely plastic-free, from the packaging to the tag fasteners (they use metal safety pins). Even the tags on the clothing are made from cotton, which I absolutely love because it frustrates me when brands say a piece of clothing is 100% cotton but the tag is made out of polyester.

The cons:

The only con is how expensive the items are. But, I understand why. Given that they only make their clothing from organic materials and maintain a local supply chain, you pay for quality over quantity.

PACT

What they promote (on their website):

Our mission is to build Earth’s Favorite Clothing Company.

The pros:

Affordable organic clothing.

The cons:

New clothing still comes in plastic bags. Plus, the pieces I purchased were not the highest quality or the best fit. And despite their company slogan, the leggings I purchased were 92% organic cotton and 8% elastane. Elastane is still a synthetic fiber that sheds microplastic over time.

Reformation

What they promote (on their website):

Up to 2/3 of the sustainability impact of fashion happens at the raw materials stage - before the clothes have actually been made. Fiber selection also affects how you’re gonna wash the garment, and potentially recycle it one day - both important factors to consider when it comes to the environmental impact. That’s why we have Ref standards, or basically different classifications based on their combined social and environmental impact.

The pros:

Beautiful prints and unique designs. The items ship plastic-free.

The cons:

Many of their pieces are made of synthetic materials like spandex or, they are upcycled from extra fabric of unknown materials. While I love the idea of upcycling, I’m uneasy about not knowing what the materials are. And like Everlane, every item came with a plastic price tag fastener.

thredUP

What they promote (on their website):

At thredUP, we believe in a sustainable fashion future. Thrifting is about more than just finding amazing deals on your favorite brands. It’s about shopping with intention, rejecting throwaway fashion culture, and standing for sustainability. The clothes we wear have the power to create change.

The pros:

I love that I can filter my search by material type. They also offer a free kit to send gently used items back to them for resale.

The cons:

I have two gripes. Firstly, they ship in plastic bags. Secondly, the material type can be incorrectly labeled. I was really sad to purchase what I thought was a 100% cotton romper only to receive it and read viscose on the tag.

The RealReal

What they promote (on their website):

We’re empowering consignors and buyers to extend the life cycle of luxury goods. The future of fashion is circular.

The pros:

I love that they offer secondhand, harder-to-find items.

The cons:

The items came shipped in plastic.

The bag and plastic tags Everlane uses for new purchases

Both bags are from Amour Vert: the top one is compostable; the one underneath is not

Mate’s journey to be plastic-free

Plastic is Poison

NPR published an article this month about plastic baby bottles shedding microplastics when heated. Years ago, I remember seeing a headline that read “We Are Drinking Our Clothes”. Since then, I’ve seen so many depressing articles about microplastics in the fog over our bay, in the air we breathe, in the water we drink. Plastic is all around us and our reliance on it is also our demise. I suppose on the bright side it’s good for the plastic problem to become more mainstream. Sad pun intended.

When Bubba was born, I was really terrified of three things: 1) him breathing in air pollution like truck or car exhaust or fertilizer (we live in a rural town surrounded by corn fields), 2) him coming into contact with the lawn spray that is so pervasive in our neighborhood and that our dog might track in, and 3) him ingesting microplastics or harmful metals like lead.

Let’s be real. I was worried about these things before he was born. But before I got pregnant, I only had myself to worry about. To bring another life into this effed up world, I feel immense responsibility to keep him safe.

Safe from plastic and toxins. This task just seems so…impossible. Unless, I put him in a bubble. Wait, is that an option?

Here is what I know about plastic:

• All plastic erodes and becomes finer pieces of microplastic.

• Plastic doesn’t ever leave earth. All the plastic that has ever been created? It’s all still on this earth somewhere.

• Most of our clothing is made of plastic or some synthetic material like acrylic or polyester. Continuously washing and wearing our clothes creates more microplastic. I’m looking at you, yoga pants.

Here are the problems with plastic:

• Plastic disrupts our delicate endocrine system.

• A handful of big corporations are the biggest producers of plastic and thus plastic waste. Coke, Pepsi, and Nestle are up at the top.

• Plastic pollution is nearly impossible to clean up. Microplastic especially.

To get sick from plastic, it’s difficult for doctors to diagnose plastic as the root cause. Cancers are unique to the individual, a special formula made up of small or large traces of genes, toxins, and other stressors.

Do we fight the plastic fight until something else kills us in the end? Do I fight for my child, knowing that it might give him a chance at a better life?

Yes, I believe I do. I’ll take that chance.

Bye Bye, Bay

Dear California,

My husband, pup, and I embarked on a new adventure in 2018. We didn’t know what you would have in store but we were ready for something new.

You showed me the beauty that is Mother Nature. I gazed in awe at the mammoth trees in Tahoe, the cliffs in Carmel, and the coast along the 101. In an hour, we went from the grimy city to the pristine shores of Point Reyes.

You also showed me firsthand that Mother Nature is suffering and that climate change is more powerful than ever. I breathed in the toxic air of wildfires, saw the plastic pollution in the ocean, and cried about whether we could reverse the devastation.

You gave me new friends, amazing souls I love and can’t wait to see again. In a new place, we were welcomed with open arms and soon, California began to feel like home. For that, I am forever grateful.

I didn’t understand California cuisine for the longest time. I get it now. Thank you, Berkeley, for opening my eyes to the fruit we can grow in our yards (as small as the yards may be). From lemons to loquats, we saw homes that utilized all of the space they were given. Thank you, Berkeley Bowl, for the cornucopia of fresh produce and making it always available. Thank you, Chez Panisse, for showing me that simple meals with fresh quality ingredients are metaphors for life.

I’ll miss the smell of the Redwoods, the closeness of hiking trails, and the plethora of Asian food. I’ll miss how the winters felt like fall, deceiving me into thinking no time had passed at all.

And what a trick it was. Suddenly, two years passed. Our marriage strengthened each weekend as we went on long hikes and drives to the coast, or when we simply relaxed at home. We finally had time to ourselves. We fought less, loved more, and only had each other to lean on. We spent weekends looking for adventure instead of worrying about obligations. California, in a way, was one long, bonus honeymoon. And we left the Bay with the ultimate culmination, our very own bay-bay.

Thank you for a chapter in my life I will look back on fondly,

Linda

Good Is Enough

I’m the type of person who throws her hands up in the air and gives up if something doesn’t go perfectly. “Why do anything if you don’t strive for perfection,” I used to wonder.

Then, I became a mom and very quickly learned that perfection in motherhood simply doesn’t exist.

When I packed my hospital bag to deliver Bubba, I only packed him a swaddle to wear. How does one put a baby in a car seat when he’s only wrapped in a SWADDLE? Pretty sure I blushed when I realized my naivety and had to ask the nurse if we could keep the hospital onesie he was in. She reassured me that this happens all the time and that the nurses keep a box of new clothes for moments like this. Within minutes she was back with a brand new outfit for Bubba to go home in.

“Don’t worry, I never pre-washed clothes with my kids.” She saw the look of hesitation on my face. I didn’t see why I couldn’t just keep Bubba in the onesie he was wearing or wrap him in the swaddle and walk home. Forget the car seat, I thought. I would rather do either of those things than put him in clothing full of factory chemicals. 

“Thank you so much,” Steve said, kindly accepting the gift from the nurse. I snapped back into reality. That moment was my first lesson in letting go of perfection as a mother. Steve and I fumbled our way through putting clothes on a day-old baby and buckled him into his car seat. I kicked myself for not bringing him a clean outfit from home and debated whether to give him a bath right away. Guilt crept over me.

Since bringing him home, my mind has been churning worries nonstop: is this organic, is this plastic-free, has this been washed, is he too close to the wifi or microwave, is that glitter on his head, what kind of chemicals are in those diapers, did I wash my hands before holding him…I wish I could put this kid in a bubble.

Despite how exhausted I am, I lie awake at night crying and stressing over the mistakes I’ve already made as a mother: using tap water for his formula his first few weeks, placing him too close to our wireless devices when he was tiny, accidentally pouring bath water into his mouth, the list is endless. I make mistakes all day, everyday.

With all the toxins in this world, I’m at my wits’ end worrying about keeping my bairn safe and healthy. With all my worrying, I worry about keeping him happy from my anxieties. Worrying about worrying is worrisome.

“Is it okay to not strive for perfection,” I wonder, “Is good enough?”

“Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good,” I hear a voice in my head reply back.

I can still be a good mother even if I’m not perfect. I can still be a good mother if I accidentally make a mistake. I can still be a good mother if I feed my baby formula. I can still be a good mother if I spend time during the day doing something for myself.

As I write this blog post, I can’t remember the last time I showered, there is a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, half the laundry is folded and half of it is still in the dryer, my pump parts need to be washed, which reminds me...I need to pump. I haven’t eaten dinner and I need to hydrate. There are a million things on my to-do list that I haven’t done but for now, I’m going to hydrate, eat, and pump. “Good enough for today,” I tell myself.

Gift-Giving

Over the years, I've grown to despise gifts. Period. Both giving gifts and receiving gifts. And, I'm not talking about services or cash. I'm talking about physical items as gifts. I know it's an extremely unpopular opinion and I know it makes me seem ungrateful, but the whole concept of gifts doesn't make sense to me.

When I receive gifts, 10/10 times the gift is something I don't want or need and it's usually something so completely outside of my tastes that it stresses me out to have it in the house.

The gift-giver has now given me a project. I now need to figure out what to do with the item and/or go through the annoying process of returning it. On top of this, I know most returned items end up in the landfill. I could go on about how environmentally unfriendly gifts are.

I understand that there are traditions rooted in gift-giving. The older generation who raised me insists that it is their right and their duty to give gifts. But, I don't buy it. Giving gifts out of obligation feels like a chore. Receiving gifts with a fake smile seems disingenuous. Just give me cash if you must give me something.

The downside is when I ask for cash instead, they reply with, "Well, that's not fun." Fun for whom, may I ask? I don't want my relative’s shopping addiction to use me as an excuse to drain her bank account, distract her from her real problems, and further pollute the earth. (Yes, it’s always a “her”.) Tape the $20 bill to a jar of peanut butter if you want to make it "fun".

Perhaps I'm taking it too personally when I receive a personal gift but at times, I feel like the person giving me "gifts" is discreetly trying to tell me something. For example, if you keep buying me socks as gifts, I'm starting to wonder if you think I can't buy my own socks or if you think my socks are ugly. Either way, I don't want the hint.

And when it comes to giving gifts, I'm sure the feelings are mutual. Do you really want me to spend time out of my busy day to buy a gift for you that you don't want or need? If I tell you I don't want any gifts at my birthday party and you bring one anyway, are you now imposing your tradition on mine?

I wish we were more creative in our acts of love for others. It doesn't have to cost anything. It doesn't have to be anything new. Sometimes lending an ear, paying for my lunch, or making a homemade card can mean more than a stuffie from Australia.

Thank you for listening to my Ted talk.