This fall I refreshed my wardrobe. I replaced my 14 year old ski jacket that was no longer waterproof and I got a knee-length and very warm jacket to make winter in Montana more bearable. I replaced a couple of pitted-out white shirts, a ratty old sweatshirt, and got my first pair of flannel-lined jeans (they’re heaven). But after those very nice upgrades, I kept looking at clothing. I opened email proclaiming it was sale time. I clicked on social media ads for everything from workout wear to jewelry. It felt like I’d been infected by the shopping bug.
Perhaps it was the timing, leading into the dreaded holiday shopping season or maybe it was the algorithms realizing I was paying more attention to this stuff, but I found myself being far more drawn to clothing than usual. My interest was distracting and not in alignment with my values. So with my wardrobe set for the winter and spring, I committed to not purchase any new clothes for Ella or I for the next six months. The exact dates I chose were December 15, 2019 thru June 15, 2020. The commitment to not purchase anything new for six months has helped shut off my interest in clothing and has allowed me to redirect my energy toward useful ends. If you’d like to join me, I plan on holding a giveaway at the end of June for those of you who feel like you met the spirit of the challenge!
This no new clothes effort was jointly inspired by Courtney Carver’s new book, Project 333 and by fellow Montanan yogi Selena Garefino‘s commitment to not purchase any new yoga clothes for six months. Regardless of if we like to admit it or not, our fashion choices have an enormous impact on the environment, but with just a few conscious changes, we can reduce that footprint.
Reduce. Obviously the best strategy for minimizing the impact of our wardrobes is to keep them small and durable without sacrificing style, comfort, or functionality. In a post I wrote about my minimalist wardrobe I talk about my triple M approach to clothes. I populate my closet with high-quality durable items that are modern (my style aesthetic), monochrome (everything matches), and multi-functional (each piece can be worn many different ways). That combination of considerations helps keep my wardrobe paired down to the essentials.
Repair. Recycle. Reuse. I have minimal sewing skills, but I am able to patch, stitch, and repair minor issues like small rips, broken seams, and tears. When items are totally worn out many can be recycled. Companies like Patagonia’s Worn Wear program encourage the repair and recycling of their products with credit toward new items. TerraCycle is a recycling company that offers boxes to recycle clothing (as well as hundreds of other household items). Some retailers (Cuyana, Madewell, and H&M to name a few) have also started clothing recycling programs of varying quality. Reusing t-shirts, sweatshirts, and sheets into cleaning rags and produce bags is a great way to give them a second life. The Zero Waste Chef has a great tutorial on how to make produce bags out of old fabric.
Resell. Donate. For high quality items consider reselling them yourself, at a consignment shop, or online consignment retailer such as Threadup. While donating is still a decent option, when it comes to clothing only about 20 percent actually gets re-sold at thrift shops — the rest end up sent overseas, recycled, or in landfills.
These steps to reduce our impact are all meaningful, but the largest and most impactful is to drastically scale back the amount of clothing we purchase in the first place. Join me in exercising restraint and don’t purchase any new clothes for the next six months — the planet (and your bank account) will thank you.