COVID-19’S CALL TO ACCOUNTABILITY
Piece written for London Fashion Week 2021
With the fashion industry being undeniably shaken by the pandemic, we are being forced to consider the longevity of fast fashion and how sustainability is at the forefront of our post-pandemic world.
The year is 2016. The weekend has risen through the fog and my friends and I are once again faced with our weekly, ego-crushing dilemma: I have NOTHING to wear. House parties, gatherings and end-of-year balls alike, public appearances were punctuated by the single-digit clicks it took to purchase brand-new, dirt-cheap, wear-once-and-never-again pieces from the likes of Boohoo, Pretty Little Thing and Missguided.
Come 2021, and the notion of I can’t wear that, it’s already in two of my Instagram pictures feels somewhat stale and futile. The ignorance that rendered £6 dresses as a steal and not an environmental and human-rights breach has dissipated into the background, with sustainability and conscious consumerism emerging in its place.
Prior to the pandemic, trends changed faster than our minds and sustainability felt like something we’d think about when we had more time, more money and more reason. Many of our wardrobes were packed full of pieces that had a use-by date and we were the shoppers that took their lifespans at face value and turned them to the grave once they had been surpassed.
I’ll be the first to hold my hand up and admit that the cult-like spread of trends, spearheaded by social media, has had me wrapped around its little finger since I received my first paycheck: whether it be the y2k flared jeans and graphic tank tops of the past year or two (which begs yet another cultural conversation of body exclusivity in fashion that proves we’ve learnt nothing but to swap Lindsay Lohan out for Bella Hadid), or the vibrant colours, patterns and textures reminiscent of the 70s that are rippling their way through this year’s waters, I am yet to fully release myself from its influence.
But when the curtains closed and the stalls were empty, we gave up on asking how long it might be until the crowds reconvened and found ourselves in a position we never had been in before. Who, why and what is it that we buy into capitalism for?
LOCKDOWN: THE BEGINNING OF THE END
From the spread of coronavirus through Italy at the height of Milan Fashion Week in February 2020, to the resale of secondhand items expected to surpass the broader retail sector 11% by 2025, it’s no surprise that the fashion industry has suffered at the hands of the pandemic. The beginning of this year saw Topshop shut its doors, while the British Fashion Council and the Council of Fashion Designers of America released a joint statement asking for ‘fashion’s fast, unforgiving pace, to slow down’ and strongly recommending ‘designers focus on no more than two main collections a year’ instead of the usual four.
But when we strip the last sixteen months back down to their basics, we have witnessed the sheer devastation of our culture, resources and livelihoods. With that, a sweeping sense of morality began to tinge the materialistic habits of a society that has bred and nurtured the more is always more mindset. Furthermore, when dressing up to walk past our neighbour’s windows no longer held an ounce of mystery or intrigue, we succumbed to the comfort of loungewear and suitable top halves to accommodate the plethora of zoom-calls we had no excuse but to show up for.
With nowhere to go and no one to see, many of us made a hobby of decluttering our spaces and with it, our fast fashion habits reared their ugly heads. The devil on my shoulder actualised itself in a variety of forms: a cropped black jumper I ordered from ASOS in a flustered panic the day before a first date and never wore again, two Urban Outfitters graphic tees I had believed at the time to be the absolute best things in the world but had subsequently worn a handful of times before realising they weren’t so ‘in’ any more, and a NA-KD tie front long sleeve blouse which I ordered for one particular New Years Eve where I, ironically, stayed in all night with my Mum (wearing said top for the first and last time, might I add).
Our sense of patience, value and appreciation has become smothered under the guise of‘See-Now-Buy-Now’. Have nothing to wear for the weekend? Order before 11pm and it’ll be yours by the morning. Can’t quite afford it? Buy it now with Klarna and pay later. Want to buy the latest trends but on a budget? Restock your wardrobe for half the price of a weekly food shop at Shein. The list goes on.
While wanting these things doesn’t make you a bad person, they do perpetuate the notion that fast fashion is about convenience and accessibility, while cleverly masking the fact that, as a result, we are producing more greenhouse gas emissions than international aviation and shipping combined.
SUSTAINABILITY: WHERE ARE WE?
With the likes of Depop, Vinted and thredUP making it just as easy to shop relevant trends as it would be to pop onto the ‘Newest’ section of any fast fashion website, the pandemic has ushered a rise in consumers considering sustainability when they shop. Why is this?
Well, aside from the shift in perspective brought about by the world grinding to an unprecedented halt, it arguably has a lot to do with Gen Z who are predicted to be the most well-educated generation that any that have come before it. Eliza Huber, Fashion Market Writer for Refinery29, believes that for Gen Z, the habit of thrifting is less so a way to shop, and more so a lifestyle: ‘Thrifting feels emblematic of the way Gen Z strays from the beaten path. They want to be independent. They want to save the planet. They want to save money — and make money.’
thredUP, an online consignment and thrift store, released their post-Covid 2021 Resale Report which found sustainability as the front-running motivation of the Post-Pandemic Consumer. While the secondhand market is predicted to double in the next five years, there is a significant change in individual mindsets and attitudes: one in three consumers cares more about wearing sustainable clothing than before the pandemic, one in two consumers cares more about saving money on clothes than before the pandemic and 51% of consumers are now more opposed to eco waste. And while Gen Z’s collective attitudes are an incredible vehicle for change, it is also important to note that retailers’ contribution to the progression of sustainability is paramount to a more widespread shift. With this in mind, it’s promising to see that the pandemic has prompted 60% of retailers to report they are open to offering secondhand items to their customers.
INFLUENCERS: WHERE DO THEY STAND?
Well, Gen Z, while being the radical contingent of society they are, are also the first of our kind to be raised on a playground of technology. The snakes and ladders of follower count and launching themselves onto the zip wire of popularity have meant that influencers and content creators hold more weight in their movements and words than ever before. Amidst brand deals and discount codes, there is also a subtle but significant change happening in who and where names are choosing to direct their audiences.
Despite being partnered with the likes of Louis Vuitton, Levis, and Calvin Klein, a quick ‘Emma Chamberlain Thrift’ search on YouTube finds a multitude of thrift hauls and sponsorships, while a quick flick through Depop’s Instagram page finds the likes of Kim Kardashian, Bella Hadid, and Olivia Rodrigo sporting sustainably sourced clothing. And although this feels incredibly cis and white-centric, Depop’s Instagram signposts a plethora of initiatives including API+ Heritage Month, LGBTQIA+ Heritage Month and #BlackOnDepop. Meanwhile over on TikTok, the sustainability hashtag has 338.8M views, while the sustainable fashion hashtag has accumulated an incredible 1.2B views.
Whether it be consciously or subconsciously, it is undeniable that what we consume on social media proliferates our views, attitudes and habits. Subsequently, there is still room to open up a conversation surrounding where influencers could be doing more. A recent Instagram post by Molly-Mae Hague wearing La robe Gardian by Jacquemus, a brilliantly layered jacket dress in black was paired with the caption: ‘PSA: It’s ok to wear the same dress twice.’
Although my initial thoughts were that of gratitude that someone with a platform was attempting to normalise such a thing, I also felt it was reticent to acknowledge some of the more pressing issues at hand. For one, most of us don’t have £520 spare to purchase an item of clothing and only wear it once. In fact, I would go as far as to say that spending a month’s rent on a dress and deciding to wear it on multiple occasions for others to see is not actually a choice at all, but a privilege very few of us can afford. On top of that, Hague has recently released her fifth edit with Pretty Little Thing since leaving the Love Island villa in 2019. Encouraging followers to re-wear clothing feels slightly redundant when the consistent relaunch of brand-new edits automatically deems previous collections as items of the past.
Image: @mollymae via Instagram
It is not progressive to criticise or pile on people in higher positions for making misjudgements we all would make if we were twenty-two and in her situation. However, we have a duty to hold ourselves accountable and see where and how we can do and be better. As much as I don’t want to dismiss Hague’s Instagram PSA that undoubtedly inspired a cohort of teens to re-wear old clothes, there is a fine line on social media between performative action and behind-the-scenes activism that has the potential to propel sustainability forwards or even further backwards.
BRANDS: WHAT NEXT?
With the 2021 fashion weeks in Paris, Milan, and New York set to remain largely digital with the exception of limited invite-only live events, it seems the post-pandemic world of fashion is set to change for the foreseeable future. While the togetherness of live shows calls on fashion’s ability to unite people over a collective passion, the digitalisation of runways appears to have inspired a coalesced space where art and fashion know no bounds. Brands are taking this expansive dimension and creating masterpieces that bring each look to life; where collections were once shown in a particular room on a particular day to a particular audience, they are now being placed in unexplored territories for anyone and everyone to escape into no matter where they may be in the world.
This feels most notable in Balenciaga’s Spring/Summer 2021 collection for Paris Fashion Week, Burberry’s Spring/Summer 2021 collection for London Fashion Week and Dior’s Haute Couture Spring/Summer 2021 collection. The presentations of these collections, whether they be in dystopian settings or ethereal forestry dreamscapes, have taken what we know of fashion and transformed it into its own outlet of creativity; an individualised concept that allows designers, creative directors and models alike to shine lights in places we’ve never thought to look before.
Sustainability is, of course, another huge factor to consider when buying into brands, however many have already paved the way with collections and pledges looking forwards to a brighter, more ethical future. Gucci’s Off The Grid collection uses recycled, organic, bio-based and sustainably sourced materials, with the security of a collective future at the heart of their mission, while Gabriela Hearst, the designer for Chloé’s Fall 2021 Ready-to-Wear collection, spoke with Good Morning Vogue on where her collection sits in response to sustainability. Hearst stated ‘if I don’t put myself to good use on this, I feel I fail. The trying out period is over. It’s now or never.’
So where does that leave us?
The trajectory is not as dismal as it has been. The post-pandemic fashion industry looks a lot different than we ever anticipated it would, but for once, it feels a little more promising for us and the Earth alike.
And while we still have a long way to go, it seems as though we finally have one foot in the door and the powers above us are, at last, considering turning the handle