I used to have a blog called called Spends2Much. That's actually still my username in some parts of the Interweb. I liked shopping, though I wasn't all that proud of it, and I was genuinely spending far too much. I intended to track what I spent in a public forum, but ultimately, I gave up before I learned anything about my shopping habits.
Part of the reason I abandoned that blog was that I no longer identified with the name, or at least I was no longer comfortable being identified with it. Yes, I still spend too much, but lately I've been thinking a lot about where I spend, and who ends up with my money.
Last weekend, I finally saw the documentary The True Cost, which is about the pitiable existences of the people who make our clothes. It tells a story I guess I already knew, but it hits harder when you actually see the workers, and they're no longer some abstraction represented by the "Made in Bangladesh" label sewn inside a cheap cotton shirt.
An amazing fact: In the 1960s, 95% of clothing sold in the U.S. was made there; now, it's about 3%. Clothing manufacturing jobs used to be unionized, and American workers had made great strides from the low of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911, until the industry abandoned North America when it saw higher profits could be made from the sweat of underpaid, non-unionized offshore workers. That tragic fire in New York City killed fewer than 200 people; this horrible factory collapse in Bangladesh 102 years later took the lives of well over 1,000 people. We don't seem to be learning much, as a species, do we...
I saw a Mary Tyler Moore show rerun a while ago, from about 1973, where Mary was re-working her budget. She said that her rent was $125 a month (must be nice!), and her clothing budget was also $125 a month. What??!! Imagine now, if your clothing budget monthly was the same as what you spend to put a roof over your head! I'd be rocking Chanel every day, but I'd need to be earning a hell of a lot more. $125 a month works out to $1,500 a year. Yes, I spend more than that now, but really, you don't have to. Think of all the crap you could get at Old Navy for $1500- that's like half of the store, during a sale.
In my teens and 20s, I didn't have a ton of clothes, but what I had was good quality, and, certainly compared to today, expensive. And I never felt like I didn't have enough. The ridiculous selection currently crammed into my drawers and closets would have been overwhelming to me then, as it is to me now. I remember having a few polo shirts, some complementary Shetland sweaters, an argyle sweater, a Lacoste tennis sweater, and some turtlenecks to layer with. Give me a break, it was the 80s. None of this stuff was cripplingly expensive, but it wasn't cheap crap, and it didn't get tossed at the end of one season.
My favourite baggy black pants, bought in 1986, were $80. I know that was the year, since I bought them because they looked like ones Janet Jackson wore in the Nasty video. The last pair of pants I bought also cost $80, but that was 29 years later! Even a moron can tell that, economically, something is seriously wrong with that picture.
What's going on here?
There's been a huge shift in what we spend our money on. Now, I give an insane percent of my income to my telecom company, for a billion (rarely watched) cable channels, high speed internet access, my iPhone, etc. My rent is crazy high, as I live in a decent area of a big city. Those costs are more or less fixed, and sort of essential. My clothing budget, however, is where I can exercise flexibility. The thing is, should I? Because I choose to have HBO, should I "save" money by buying fast fashion, thereby participating in this industry that makes me so angry?
I also fear coming off as elitist, but really, that's not the case. The thing is, the people who can afford to pay more should. I make a good living- why do I buy my jeans for $20 at Old Navy, when 15 years ago, I was buying $120 DKNY? Oh right, I have 8 pairs in my drawer now, as opposed to the single pair I used to have. This need for more, even when it's lesser quality, is driving us into an economic black hole of debt and low wages, not to mention making us all Hoarders.
My blood comes to an actual boil when an industry apologist says with a straight face that ridiculously low wages are all these companies can afford to pay their workers. In a word, bullshit. Zara owner Amancio Ortega is the second richest man in the world, behind only Bill Gates. The Waltons of Walmart fame, purveyors of cheap crap, are the richest family in America. Yes, folks, you bloody well can afford to pay your workers more, just as I can afford to pay more than $20 for my jeans. I would be more than willing to do so, if I thought these companies would actually pass along the increase, rather than throwing it on the pile in their offshore accounts. What's the use of buying something marginally nicer, and ten times more expensive, if you're just further enriching the people who pay their workers so little?
I am often part of the problem, I realize. It's hard, because I love Zara, and I do love fashion, but it's time for me to put my money where my outrage is. I mean, to sit here squawking about this issue while shopping at Joe Fresh is disingenuous at best.
As I am committing to buying fewer pieces, and opting out of "fast fashion", I am searching for a place where I can buy some classic, well-made pieces, preferably made in Canada or the U.S. by people who earn a living wage. There are a few options here in Toronto, and when I settle on one, I will post about it.
In the meantime: this is my favourite dress. It's Rag & Bone. It's 6 years old, it's silk, and it was made in the good ole U. S. of A. It was sort of expensive, but I adore it, and it's classic. This is the sort of thing I am committing to purchasing more of in the future.
This all ties into my nascent desire to own less, to buy less, and to be less a part of this endless consumerism cycle. I may not be the greatest exponent of KonMari, but, hey, I'm working on it!
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| Not fast fashion, but real fashion. |
Last weekend, I finally saw the documentary The True Cost, which is about the pitiable existences of the people who make our clothes. It tells a story I guess I already knew, but it hits harder when you actually see the workers, and they're no longer some abstraction represented by the "Made in Bangladesh" label sewn inside a cheap cotton shirt.
An amazing fact: In the 1960s, 95% of clothing sold in the U.S. was made there; now, it's about 3%. Clothing manufacturing jobs used to be unionized, and American workers had made great strides from the low of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in 1911, until the industry abandoned North America when it saw higher profits could be made from the sweat of underpaid, non-unionized offshore workers. That tragic fire in New York City killed fewer than 200 people; this horrible factory collapse in Bangladesh 102 years later took the lives of well over 1,000 people. We don't seem to be learning much, as a species, do we...
I saw a Mary Tyler Moore show rerun a while ago, from about 1973, where Mary was re-working her budget. She said that her rent was $125 a month (must be nice!), and her clothing budget was also $125 a month. What??!! Imagine now, if your clothing budget monthly was the same as what you spend to put a roof over your head! I'd be rocking Chanel every day, but I'd need to be earning a hell of a lot more. $125 a month works out to $1,500 a year. Yes, I spend more than that now, but really, you don't have to. Think of all the crap you could get at Old Navy for $1500- that's like half of the store, during a sale.
In my teens and 20s, I didn't have a ton of clothes, but what I had was good quality, and, certainly compared to today, expensive. And I never felt like I didn't have enough. The ridiculous selection currently crammed into my drawers and closets would have been overwhelming to me then, as it is to me now. I remember having a few polo shirts, some complementary Shetland sweaters, an argyle sweater, a Lacoste tennis sweater, and some turtlenecks to layer with. Give me a break, it was the 80s. None of this stuff was cripplingly expensive, but it wasn't cheap crap, and it didn't get tossed at the end of one season.
My favourite baggy black pants, bought in 1986, were $80. I know that was the year, since I bought them because they looked like ones Janet Jackson wore in the Nasty video. The last pair of pants I bought also cost $80, but that was 29 years later! Even a moron can tell that, economically, something is seriously wrong with that picture.
What's going on here?
There's been a huge shift in what we spend our money on. Now, I give an insane percent of my income to my telecom company, for a billion (rarely watched) cable channels, high speed internet access, my iPhone, etc. My rent is crazy high, as I live in a decent area of a big city. Those costs are more or less fixed, and sort of essential. My clothing budget, however, is where I can exercise flexibility. The thing is, should I? Because I choose to have HBO, should I "save" money by buying fast fashion, thereby participating in this industry that makes me so angry?
I also fear coming off as elitist, but really, that's not the case. The thing is, the people who can afford to pay more should. I make a good living- why do I buy my jeans for $20 at Old Navy, when 15 years ago, I was buying $120 DKNY? Oh right, I have 8 pairs in my drawer now, as opposed to the single pair I used to have. This need for more, even when it's lesser quality, is driving us into an economic black hole of debt and low wages, not to mention making us all Hoarders.
My blood comes to an actual boil when an industry apologist says with a straight face that ridiculously low wages are all these companies can afford to pay their workers. In a word, bullshit. Zara owner Amancio Ortega is the second richest man in the world, behind only Bill Gates. The Waltons of Walmart fame, purveyors of cheap crap, are the richest family in America. Yes, folks, you bloody well can afford to pay your workers more, just as I can afford to pay more than $20 for my jeans. I would be more than willing to do so, if I thought these companies would actually pass along the increase, rather than throwing it on the pile in their offshore accounts. What's the use of buying something marginally nicer, and ten times more expensive, if you're just further enriching the people who pay their workers so little?
I am often part of the problem, I realize. It's hard, because I love Zara, and I do love fashion, but it's time for me to put my money where my outrage is. I mean, to sit here squawking about this issue while shopping at Joe Fresh is disingenuous at best.
As I am committing to buying fewer pieces, and opting out of "fast fashion", I am searching for a place where I can buy some classic, well-made pieces, preferably made in Canada or the U.S. by people who earn a living wage. There are a few options here in Toronto, and when I settle on one, I will post about it.
In the meantime: this is my favourite dress. It's Rag & Bone. It's 6 years old, it's silk, and it was made in the good ole U. S. of A. It was sort of expensive, but I adore it, and it's classic. This is the sort of thing I am committing to purchasing more of in the future.
 |
| Hurray for Barney's Warehouse Sale! |
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