A few weeks ago, I shared on twitter (“X”) that I just became an “Episcotexan.” Whereas before my bishop was located in Virginia, the diocese that ordained me as a priest, now I am formally under the structure of the Diocese of Texas.
In other words, Texas is my geographical and professional home now. All that to say that I feel like I can officially settle into embracing Texas culture a bit more.
I asked my followers what kind of cowboy boots I should get. And one comment shocked me in how much it set me off.
The commenter, instead of offering advice on brands, fit, or colors, responded: “Make sure to thrift!”
I rolled my eyes. I should have been happy that she shared a passion with me, but I wasn’t. I felt frustrated.
The next day, I sat down and wrote a series of tweets, shared below, on why that comment got under my skin.
Somehow, that simple admonishment to “thrift instead” reminded me why I lost my idealism for the sustainable fashion movement.
Why I Lost Faith in the Sustainable Fashion Movement
When people online recommend I thrift instead of buying new, it takes a lot for me not to tell them I ran a thrift store for five years and was once considered one of the top sustainable fashion bloggers (which means nothing now that blogging is defunct).
I agree! Thrifting is great. But I burned out on conscious consumerism as a category, because it consumed so much of my life for so long. And during the pandemic I watched the brands and infrastructure I helped build close down, and “responsible” brands fire everyone.
Then, social media changed, and accountability and fact checking went out the window, with greenwashing replacing actual sustainability efforts.
Performance became more important than ethics. Winning arguments became more important than building coalitions. Grassroots got taken over by corporate marketing departments.
There’s still a lot to do when it comes to sustainability and human rights in the fashion industry. But, even thrifting has succumbed to fast fashion culture. It’s harder and harder to find good, affordable clothing.
I have lost my idealism about conscious consumerism.
I think most companies will compromise on ethics to stay alive and most consumers are more concerned with the story they can spin about their conscientiousness than with actual industry change. Thrifting is great, but won’t fix it.
So, where does that leave me with sustainable fashion?
When I decided to embrace my “Ethical Rule of 3” a few years ago, I effectively stopped advocating for the strict shopping criteria that had guided me up to that point.
As the work of sustainable fashion became more intersectional – at least in my sheltered world – it stopped making sense to define “ethical” within the rigid confines of production and textile standards.
While I still believe that, looking back four years later, I can see how that decision, in the broader movement, made it even easier for greenwashing to get a foothold.
What I mean is, if a brand can be considered “ethical” because they partner with a marginalized creator for one season, or because they make public political statements, they can forego a lot of supply chain improvements. They can hide behind the cause du jour. In effect, ethics is just a marketing play.
This is exactly what ethical fashion advocates were trying to move past a decade ago. And now it’s even more entrenched, because we – the consuming public – told brands this is what we wanted.
As I hinted at in my tweets above, there is no longer any incentive to live in the complexity or humility required to sustain good ethics and sustainability work. Now, it’s all about preserving our reputation. We do better on social media if we make straightforward, boisterous claims.
We are no longer simply people. We are our own PR agencies. There is no tolerance for muddling into a better world together. In any given social justice movement, we may be winning in the short term. But our failure to build coalitions or deal with the messiness of structural change often means we are losing the long term.
And I know this, because we are losing sustainable fashion.
People are still doing the work, as they always have been. And a new cohort of activists will rise to take the place of old school burnouts like me. All hope is not lost. There’s always hope.
But did it have to go this way? Did our egos have to do so much damage? Did so many people have to lie? Did so many workers have to die?
I still prefer to thrift first. I still look for natural textiles, recycled materials, and fair trade certifications. These things still make a difference, even if a very small one. Just because things aren’t good doesn’t mean I have to actively choose to cause more harm than necessary.
I’m just not going to pretend that buying all the “right” stuff is going to change people’s hearts and minds.
The only way forward, for any social justice movement, is radical honesty that everything is effed up, including each one of us. Accountability starts with you and me.