For the past couple of months, I have been quarantining alone in my small apartment. The only contact I have with people besides my semi-weekly trips to the grocery store were video calls with classes or with loved ones, and in those scenarios, I am only seen from the shoulders up. I’m sure most people can relate when I say that I find little to no value in changing out of my pajama pants for zoom lectures.
At first, I saw this as a luxury; I could wear my most comfortable sweats all the time, and I rarely had to do laundry. However, after a while, I started to feel pretty sloppy. Baggy clothes felt unprofessional, and I felt that I lacked a daily routine. I tried wearing my typical pre-quarantine outfit of a t-shirt and jeans for a few days, but that was just uncomfortable for the trek from my bed to the kitchen then to my desk. I wanted to find a happy medium, but I didn’t know what that was.
Around that time, I was learning about the lack of sustainability in the fashion industry in my environmental science class. The average American produces 60 pounds of textile waste each year, and fashion companies often exploit the earth’s resources and vulnerable populations. With the rise of fast fashion in our culture comes an increasing amount of cheaply-made goods that quickly get thrown out.
This inspired a new project: I planned to wear the same three shirts and two pairs of pants for twelve days straight. Going into this, I planned to pay attention to a few things: how I feel about the few clothing items I allowed myself to have, how I feel about myself without being able to hide behind my fashion sense, and how creating a routine of changing my clothes would make me feel.
I did some research and found a company that makes 100% cotton garments fully made in America. Three t-shirts and two pairs of joggers were significantly more expensive than a $3 crop top from Forever-21, but with the stimulus check burning a hole in my pocket, I was happy to support a company that had ethics I believed in. The clothes were soft, and I was happy to see that I kind of liked how they looked on me. The solid black, white, and beige pieces looked like they could be from a Yeezy fashion show.
The rules were: I could access these new clothing items, socks, underwear, and towels, but my closet must remain closed. Each morning I would put on a new t-shirt and pants, and once I had worn each shirt twice and the pants three times, I would wash them all together. When I went outside, I was to wear my black sneakers and denim jacket. No exceptions.
I was excited and nervous to begin this challenge. However, once I began, I realized there’s no instant gratification to this project. I was hoping to develop an attachment to the clothing I had since I had so little, but of course, that wasn’t going to develop immediately. This project needed time before I saw any benefits.
Luckily, within a few days, I was thriving off of a new routine. Each morning I would roll out of bed, throw on my clothes, then start on coffee and breakfast. I had no idea a bit more structure was going to benefit me so greatly. Starting off each day in the same manner provided a comforting consistency, and it got me out of bed earlier than five minutes before class.
The first wash didn’t go as well as I had hoped. Even though I turned the washer and dryer onto the cold setting, my cotton garments still shrunk. They were still wearable, but they were short at the ankle. I guess ethical materials need extra care in some cases. Living sustainably doesn’t simply mean recycling and paying more for ethical products. There’s a lot more to it than that.
On day eight of this project, my roommate (who is living at her parents’ house) came to visit. She asked how my clothing project was going. I told her it was going well. Even though she didn’t say anything negative about the project or what I was wearing, I suddenly became self-conscious. I realized that I looked somewhat strange in my all-white uniform. Just as I had suspected, I missed being able to express myself through my clothing. This got me thinking: Is wanting to like the way that I look a bad thing? I’ve always been taught that caring about your looks is vain and that it’s best not to care. I don’t agree with this idea anymore. I think it’s good to care about what you look like if it brings you confidence.
Once this project was over, I washed all of the garments and I opened my closet. It was great to see my favorite clothes again. Even though I wasn’t going out or seeing anybody, I put on my favorite outfit. Once they were clean, I folded my clothes for the past two weeks and added them to my other clothes in my closet. Seeing them there gave me a bit of closure; the project was over, but these garments would always remind me of the values that I learned. I have a great appreciation for these clothing items, and I hope they stay in my wardrobe for a long time.
4/15/2020