If Our Clothes Could Speak

Clothing is more disposable than ever before. According to the UN Environment Programme, the number of times we wear a garment has declined by 36% in just 15 years. This fact is evident in our everyday lives: our closets are bursting at the seams, yet we still feel like we need more. If you spend one minute scrolling on social media, it is obvious that we are meant to feel this way and live this loop forever. On top of this vicious cycle of consumerism, our stuff is not even holding up. Hems come undone, zippers burst, and buttons fall loose after one wear. The fashion industry has become less about wearing and more about consuming. I do not want to live this way, but how do I fight a system that is set up for failure?

Ellen Sampson’s book, Worn, discusses how the act of wearing garments over time creates an attachment between the wearer and the item. It was through reading her PhD research that I began to question whether changing my perspective on my clothes' lifecycle could change how I consume. The imperfections I find on my garments are markers of memories, times before that are only physically tangible through these scars on my clothes. Through this line of thinking, my closet acts as a sentimental collection of my memories. A quote from Ellen Sampson’s research reads, “I am pleased my shoes have remembered my steps, that they have taken this task from me. They remember what I do not”. Thinking in this manner about what we wear every day and how it tells our story can help slow the cycle of consumerism. The goal is not to hoard every clothing item you have ever possessed, but rather to extend the lifecycle of your pieces through viewing its imperfections as a marker of life lived. By holding clothing in a higher regard, we will feel more empowered to repurpose it.

I wanted to put this philosophy into practice in my life. I began going through the clothes I was ready to donate, and seeing how I could honor them for longer, this required a change of perspective. Instead of identifying my cashmere sweater as 'the one with the hole in the sleeve' I looked at it for it's origins: my mom’s garment from the 90’s that she wore when she was my age. She wore it out with her friends, on nights that I have also had, when she was just as young and confused as I am. I slip my thumb through the hole in the sleeve and wonder what places this cashmere black sweater had seen with her that I never will. This sweater saw a side of me and my mom's lives that we did not experience together. Now I wear this sweater with that in mind, slipping my thumb anxiously through the tear and finding comfort in it.

And this dress...  my friend Taylor decided to have an 80's prom birthday this year, to which I found one of the tackiest dresses I could locate in thrift store. The zipper is wonky, and it has red wine stains on it, these are my thoughts as I put it in the donation bag. However, I think about my relationship to this dress, I think about singing my heart out to Pink Pony Club in the karaoke box, with my friend from high school. Two formally closeted gay kids getting to now openly express ourselves in a city far away from our hometown. I think of laughing with my friend Taylor and drunkenly fixing her birthday crown, and posing for red wine stained teeth photos on the metro. This dress is a reminder to have fun, to be silly and not worry about what the people around me are thinking. The zipper can be fixed, and the occasion will eventually call for a ruffled, blue, tacky prom dress. I decided to hold onto it for a bit longer.

A slip dress, gifted to me only this past Christmas by my sweet stepsister. When gifted to me she said "this reminded me of you" when put on I said "oh no" as i heard the shoulder strap break. What a beautiful gesture of love it is to have a piece of clothing that someone saw and thought 'this is so them'. To be loved is to be seen, and what a lovely thing be seen in garments. While the strap is busted, it is a quick fix worth doing, to keep this reminder of love and understanding in my closet. 

This small museum of my imperfect clothes serves as a reminder that our garment's stories do not have to end because of visible imperfections. While we will all still cycle through our closets, pass down or give away worn in items, hopefully this philosophy inspires you to give some neglected pieces another try. I asked a close friend if she could share anything about her emotional attachment to her clothing, she shared, "I live in Northern California where there are a lot of fires, in 2019 there was a converging fire that was coming for my house. When I evacuated I was stressed and so I just grabbed my favorite clothing items. I grabbed my favorite thrifted finds because I knew I could not replace those, and they were markers of my time abroad in Paris, my favorite time of my life". Do not grab your clothing if you are evacuating from a fire, but I thought this story is a beautiful representation of how clothes are personal artifacts of our lives.