Everybody, at some point, figures out that all clothes are not created equal, despite the fact I made my first pair of shorts at the ripe of age of seven, it wasn’t until I was 18 at an outlet mall that I realized not all clothes are created equal. We all may begin to think about ethical style in different ways and at different times, but I’m just happy when another person discovers their own personal fashion ethics. Here are a few stories of other people’s discovery. –Kara Cook
A few years ago, I became fascinated with the concept of barefoot running and the materials and technology that go into make “barefoot” shoes. The New Yorker had an article on them and I remember scouring it and then looking for other resources and information on the barefoot phenomenon and shoes which replicated barefoot movement or the sensation of running in bare feet, like Nike Free, Vibram Five Fingers, Vivo Bare, etc. I loved the fashion sense of the Vivo Bare, all while feeling like I was doing something good for my feet with a company that was unique. Now, I want to get more of them.
–Katherine from Connecticut
When we discover the origin of where most of our modern-day clothing comes from and who is behind sewing the hem of your pants or the seams of your blouse — sweatshops in 3rd world countries with abominable working standards grossly under U.S. standards — it is rather unsettling. But what are the options to avoid supporting such a depraved system? When I was in 7th grade my mother would take me to a consignment store where I found most of my wardrobe. Fortunately for me, my classmates appreciated my vibrant wardrobe. As a young person I shopped at consignment shops to save money, but as an adult I shop at consignment shops to find vintage styles and avoid supporting the giant sweatshop machine, which is behind nearly every commercial fashion label…I save money too!
–Jenny from Texas
I was standing in a crowded, smoke filled bar… well, maybe it wasn’t quite that bad. I was at my favorite country bar when I happened to notice that most of the people on the dance floor were dancing in beautiful cowboy boots. There were a few flip-flops here and there, but most of the “true” devotees wore leather cowboy boots. In that moment I knew that I wanted to buy myself — in all my California glory — a pair of genuine cowboy boots. When I returned to California for a visit I convinced my mom to go shopping. We walked into the one western store in California and that’s when I saw them: the perfect leather boots for my line dancing ways. I knew that they were going to be an investment, but that the trade-off would be the wear I would get from them because of durable exterior and solidly constructed interior. Those boots have been dancing (or walking), ever since.
–Angelena from California
Even though I don’t think about it too much, most of my eclectic bracelets and necklaces are recycled. One of my favorite memories growing up was sitting at my grandma’s kitchen table while she poured out pile after pile of her old jewelry, telling me I could pick out whatever I wanted! Hence my jewelry box is overflowing with everything from genuine stone necklaces, to lightning bolt earrings, big bangle bracelets, and rings from the 1920′s. Those small treasures mean more to me now than ever before. My sweet grandma recently had to move into an assisted living home and her health is rapidly declining. Each time I put on a piece of her jewelry — no matter how funky or out of style — it reminds me of her and makes me thankful for family.
–Sarah from Alabama
My first encounter with ethical style wasn’t something I was looking for – or to be honest – had ever really given much thought to. I was studying in Morocco and made the obligatory trip to Fes (or Fez for you westerners). Fes is home to the famous Moroccan tanneries, a smelly and involved process to dye and craft genuine leather goods. Now Morocco wasn’t my first encounter with local artisans or even my first time seeing a craft produced from beginning to end, but the tanneries of Fes were my first view into the old world process of producing leather goods that made you feel good about the quality of leather you were purchasing and the value of buying a bag (or shoes, or jacket, or ottoman, or all of the above) that would last a lifetime. I may have bought more than one leather bag in Morocco – but they’re still getting lots of use – and will continue to carry my books, and car keys, and wallet for years to come.
–Ally from Louisiana
Ethics and shopping is something that hit close to home with me the first time I ever left the continent. It was to Ghana, West Africa for two weeks the summer after I graduated high school. I’d never been to somewhere so poor. On a trip we got an opportunity to go to the local market to shop for gifts for friends, family and supporters. The translators took us to the “tourist” market with their colorful clothing, cool and funky jewelry, beautiful batiks and many, many other things all handmade with the makers standing there selling them. Even though we knew that the prices were “jacked up” because they like to haggle and tourists don’t know the local value of things, I always felt bad in the midst of the price banter because all I could think was, “Am I really haggling over the difference between 5 and 10 dollars for this?”
Turns out, the exchange is quite fun when you realize that haggling is the people’s social time and that they would never go below what’s necessary to sustain their family. Anyway, even though I learned to haggle, I still have a tendency to overpay for things and let them think they swindled me because in the end, it could feed a whole family where they wouldn’t have been able to eat before. All this to say, I really pay attention now that I’m back in the U.S. to which stores sell fair-trade products. I have never had buyer’s remorse from single fair trade item I’ve purchased. And how often can you say that?
–Chelsea from California
The modern age teaches us rather impatience. We are encouraged toward fast food to satiate quick-forming appetites, soundbites to cut to the chase, cheap “disposable” clothing to suit every passing whim. Gone is a life of contemplation, appreciation for the craft of the things with which we surround ourselves. These days, it’s practically vogue to do what I’m doing — disparaging mass production. And really, Walmart and China may be praised today for making more things available to more people. But “more” — more emails per minute, more food on your plate, more plastic cups per dollar — isn’t always better. I worry about the volume our modern culture has enabled us to have has supplanted a deeper appreciation for higher things, things made, written, and crafted with thought. --world traveler and blogger Ms. Glasses