We Should All Be Lizzie McGuires
Maybe the real friends were the outfits we repeated instead of replacing with single use fast fashion items along the way
I started the earliest iteration of Emily For President during a relatively unprecedented time: in 2019, a friend shared they didn’t know how the impeachment process worked which made sense as it had only happened twice before and she was normal and sane. It shouldn’t shock any of you that, in contrast, I did know so I launched a TinyLetter newsletter to cover Donald Trump’s first impeachment and make the weird bureaucratic procedures more entertaining and, hopefully, understandable.
A part of me wants to preserve the core of what E4P has always been and strive to make the news of the week fun and digestible when it starts to feel too big. But as someone whose life got infinitely better after puberty, I know the value of growing out of certain personality traits—like bumping pieces just because something once again historic and unprecedented needs a meme-laden explainer.
By all this, I mean that I am not changing our regularly scheduled programming just because President Joe Biden announced that he will not seek re-election this year and endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris who now is running for president. I mean sure—could I spend an entire piece talking about the comparisons between this decision and that of Lyndon B. Johnson in 1968 in an attempt to make sense of this moment through that one? Could I wax poetic about how Harris has raised over $80 million in funding and has secured enough pledged delegates to win the Democratic Party’s nomination while I also remind us of the lessons from 2016 and 2020 we are wont to neglect? Could I write about how this is all Roy Cohn’s fault somehow?
Of course—this is still E4P, after all. But I don’t want to, at least not today.
This week, Bianca joins me for a piggy-back conversation based on last week’s panel in her hat-trick piece. We looked at what the panel responses indicated to her about the consensus on fast fashion, the marketing tactics that lead to overconsumption (and how to fight back against them), and Bianca’s top tips for building a sustainable wardrobe.
Hi, I’m Bianca! I’m an environmental scientist and sustainability advocate. I’ve been interested in environmentalism since I was a kid and graduated with my BS in Environmental Science from Georgia State University. I’ve been working in the sustainability space professionally for the last few years and am currently a sustainability analyst. When I’m not working, I’m usually with friends, my dog, or alone reading an unrealistic romance novel (enemies to lovers ftw).
Previously on E4P…
If you’ll recall, Bianca joined me last September to discuss how she first got involved with sustainability advocacy. One of my favorite things that we covered was how she manages to stay optimistic while working in a “field that is typically discussed with a lot of pessimism,” and I wanted to channel some of that energy today.
More to it, that conversation was also the starting point for the combo meal of this piece and last week’s panel. While Bianca’s career isn’t necessarily in sustainable fashion, her passion certainly is. I wanted her to explain why in her own words, so I asked, quite literally:
Emily: Why are you so interested in sustainability in fashion, and what experiences have led you to speak authoritatively about it?
Bianca: I’ve always been into fashion and I was definitely that kid growing up that followed the rule of you couldn’t wear the same thing within a two week period—if you know, you know. I’ve always been into clothes as a form of expression.
Sustainability got factored into how I think about clothing with the rise of thrifting in the mid-2010s when I learned all of the benefits of shopping secondhand. But the real nail in the coffin was at my last job, I was working as an intern and we are working on a water reduction plan for a super popular athletic company (signed an NDA sorry!!), and I got to look through their numbers and WOW.
I saw how much it cost in terms of natural resources to make a single item of clothing and it is literally INSANE. That plus how most of the water companies use is mostly from water-stressed areas really started me down the rabbit hole of ethical consumption.
As someone who has confessed to having a minor ASOS addiction on this very newsletter before, I was really excited to put on last week’s panel and it didn’t disappoint. But more than that, I wanted to ask Bianca what she thought of it as someone more well-versed in conversations around fast fashion than I am:
Emily: What are your three major takeaways from last week's panel?
Bianca: My first takeaway is that everyone had a pretty good idea of what fast fashion was. Honestly, I think we can thank SHEIN for that because they’ve been such a dominant fast fashion polluter, and their rise has been astronomical.
I think the second biggest takeaway is the amount of fast fashion that is in the respondee’s wardrobes. I don’t want to call anybody a liar but some people said as little as 10% of their clothes were fast fashion but with the way that clothing is made, a majority of clothes are fast fashion. Things like Anthropologie, Free People, Abercrombie, etc.—yes, those are more pricey items, but they’re still technically fast fashion under the definition because of the quantity and the speed of productions
The last takeaway, which I thought was a really good question, was asking about their favorite item of clothing that they’ve ever owned. I loved how almost everyone had a story attached to a piece and it just reminded me of how we like stories and we like things that remind us of different times in our lives. I think what fast fashion takes away from us is being able to create memories with the stuff that we wear.
Emily: Were there any misconceptions about fast fashion that you noticed in the responses that you want to clear up?
Bianca: Honestly, no. I think Blair and Liz described it best with the “hyper-trendy, low quality, not ethically made, cheap.” But I do feel like everyone that responded had a pretty decent grasp of fast fashion, which I am really happy about because it definitely shows that they’re aware.
I was intrigued by this idea of what we think constitutes fast fashion and what fast fashion truly is, especially in the wake of news that luxury labels like Christian Dior were selling “products…made in sweatshop-like conditions in Italy. Images of an unkempt facility where designer handbags were produced, which was raided as part of an investigation into Italy’s fashion supply chain, are worlds apart from those the luxury industry likes to show its customers” (X). One of the products in question? A $2,816 handbag that only cost the company $57 to produce.
This, in connection with a viral TikTok in which a creator explains why luxury houses cannot call leather goods “Italian leather” anymore, led me to ask Bianca:
Emily: What are your thoughts on recent reports that luxury goods are either not what they're marketed to be or that their costs are grossly disproportionate to their prices?
Bianca: I’m not surprised—I actually read that a couple of years ago. I came to the conclusion a while ago that when you’re buying from a designer brand now (especially the heritage ones like Chanel, Dior, Prada, etc.) you’re essentially buying the history. You’re buying their items for the brand and the story behind it, not necessarily for the quality.
Emily: Follow up: is that a part of this discussion or just a bit of gossip?
Bianca: I love to gossip but not this time! That’s why I wanted to ask in the survey about quality labels cause I think a lot of time, there is this assumed correlation of price and quality which unfortunately used to be true, but is not anymore.
Regardless of the price of an item, look at the label!! Is it made from 100% natural fibers (cotton, wool, silk, linen)? Is it made from 100% plastic fibers (polyester, nylon, acrylic)? That’s not to say that plastic fibers are inherently evil because they do have their place in certain types of clothing but personally, I’m not buying a sweater that’s 100% polyester.
A lot of these brands today will name something “wool sweater” and it’s a 60/40 mix between nylon and polyester, like??
While we could stop here and get into the weeds discussing what makes a brand “good” in the age of Who Can Make the Fastest Fashion, I wanted to talk with Bianca about why we even shop like this in the first place.
🎶It’s the Circle of Trends🎶
As is the case with most things that have to do with fast fashion, I first became interested in discussing the central focus of this next section with Bianca because of something someone said on TikTok. Seriously—I’ve had a note on my laptop for over a month that reads, “Ask Bianca about trend cycling, TikTok.”
Ergo, I asked Bianca:
Emily: What is trend cycling and how does it factor into conversations around fast fashion?
Bianca: Trend cycling is essentially the lifespan of a trend and how it rises and falls, and then repeats itself. Because of fast fashion—and, honestly, influencer culture—these brands make their money off of you consistently buying, so what they do now is they essentially push trends onto us. They make a bunch of stuff, give it out to influencers for free, and those influencers do “hauls.”
You get that feeling of FOMO because you feel you’re missing out on “trend” that never really existed or was artificially made.
As Bianca aptly put it, trend cycling is a shorthand for a rule of culture Bowen Yang and Matt Rogers shockingly did not come up with. A 2022 piece in A Magazine explains it best:
Have you ever wondered why some of your favorite trends are the same as the ones you can find in your parents closet from the ‘90s? Or why every few years your favorite style from your childhood suddenly resurfaces? All of these occurrences are due to the 20-year trend cycle.
Often referred to as the “20-year rule”, the cyclical concept that every 20 years or so the trends that were once popular will begin to be on the forefront again. Although, with the rise in social media, the trend cycle is being cut shorter and shorter. Though this has been the norm within the industry, there are many concerns beginning to arise, sustainability being the one at large.
The pandemic appeared to quicken the 20-year rule’s deteriorating and gave way to the rise of micro-trends, which are exactly like what they sound like: “grouped looks or aesthetics—bimbocore, Catholic chic—that might most accurately be described as ‘vibes’ or ‘a mood’” (X). In a piece for Vice, Hannah Ewens explained that
the traditional life cycle of a fashion trend consists of five stages: introduction, rise, peak, decline and obsolescence. Where even a few years ago, a trend would last for a year or two, this whole cycle currently runs through from start to finish in months or even weeks.
What’s more, consumers are now able to shop based on a short-lived moment and move on to the next at the same speed the new trend develops thanks to fast fashion. Tom Crisp, a former designer who now leads an online course on sustainable fashion at the University of Falmouth, told Vice in a different article that, “‘These clothes are often designed to be worn once or twice before being thrown away…So this consumption adds to fashion’s huge waste clothing problem, especially for the Global South, where most of this waste ends up, destroying local environments and local fashion and textile industries.’”
You may be saying to yourself, This sounds so dumb. Who would want to dress in Catholic chic for just two weeks? First of all, did you not read Bianca’s intro? You literally can’t wear the same thing within a two-week period, Lizzie McGuire.
Second, there are understandable explanations for why we often fall prey to trend cycling:
Crisp argues that there is an emotional element encompassing the acceleration of the trend cycle over the past few years. “The trends prey on our insecurities about the way we look and feel,” he says, “encouraging us to consume more in order to stay on trend.”
The psychological pressure encouraging an excessive rate of consumerism—all to appear on-trend—can be spotted more widely in an online culture obsessed with the creation and destruction of physical aesthetics (X).
There’s a degree to which I think trend cycling also feeds off of our desire to belong to something bigger than ourselves, as most conversations about it mention subcultures that canonically serve to unite a smaller population with one another and distinguish them from mainstream society.
And yet, when we participate in micro-trends and the larger hamster wheel of trend cycling, we are doing ourselves a great disservice. If we continuously try on the vibe du jour, we’re never allowing ourselves to develop a personal style—which we know from our conversation with Manny Llorente is a key factor in living as our authentic selves. In fact, the most frequently recommended piece of advice on how to break trend cycling habits was to develop a strong sense of personal style:
LA-based sustainable stylist Cassandra Dittmer…urges consumers to recognise that while personal style can evolve, this does not require a wardrobe refresh every month. “If you invest in one or two pieces every so often that can amplify existing pieces you already own and love, then that's the sweet spot,” she says.
But if there’s a trend you really, really want to incorporate into your personal style, she advises taking the time to consider the cost-per-wear and finding the most sustainable and timeless version of the trend instead (X).
With that said, I wanted to get Bianca’s take and asked:
Emily: What are your top solutions to the main motivators that drive us to fashion overconsumption?
Bianca: I want to preface this by saying that fashion has its place in the world by helping people build and find community. But to answer your question, I think figure out your “why.” Why do you feel the need to buy all these things? Why do you feel the need to buy the newest thing? Or why do you feel the need to have a new outfit every time you go out?
Those are questions that I can’t answer for others, but a couple of things that help me are:
Deleting apps (or turning off notifications if you need to keep them).
Unsubscribing from marketing emails for sales and stuff.
Most importantly (for me) is buying things that mesh well with what I already own. I genuinely don’t buy things if I can’t think of anything else already in my closet that I can wear it with.
Of course, the first step is admitting you have a problem with fast fashion overconsumption. But I’m curious, for my own conscience’s sake, what Bianca would recommend for someone who isn’t sure they can fully kick the habit.
Free Your Fashion and the Rest Will Follow
If we’re going to mark growth over time here at E4P, perhaps the introduction is not as strong of evidence as this next section is. I had a different version of this conversation with my sister Audrey back in November 2021 where we also talked about overconsumption and the things that drive it, but stopped short of coming up with actionable solutions to the problem at hand.
More to it, I also stopped short of sharing my own participation in said problem at hand. Looking to right the wrongs of my past, I asked Bianca:
Emily: What sustainable practices would you recommend for people who like regularly buying new clothes but might not have the resources to shop slow fashion or use fashion rental sites?
Bianca: I’m being super honest when I say this—I’m reading this as a hypothetical because I would be extremely surprised if anybody reading this newsletter does not have the resources to either shop slow, secondhand, or use fashion rental sites.
According to a report from the think tank Hot or Cool, “If no other actions are implemented, such as repairing/mending, washing at lower temperatures, or buying second-hand, purchases of new garments should be limited to an average 5 items per year for achieving consumption levels in line with the 1.5-degree target.”
The only other response to this hypothetical question would be to just buy less.
Admittedly, I wrote this question from my personal perspective and love how Bianca clocked it. I’ve been in my Kit Kittredge Era as of late and, as such, have been cutting excessive spending…primarily on clothes. But even before I had to think critically about how much money I was funneling into my wardrobe each month, I was still actively shopping for fast fashion because of the low prices for the high rewards.
Although this piece is through the lens of sustainability, I would be remiss not to mention the atrocious working conditions presumably all of these companies perpetuate that we both know about and have yet to uncover. Given all of this, I want to stop contributing to this behemoth of an awful thing, but I can’t always justify the higher costs that often come with shopping slower or secondhand in Manhattan (highway robbery).
I know I’m not alone in wanting to be better but not being ready to actually be better because last spring, Business Insider published a piece that read:
a recently released report on Gen Z by the online vintage-resale platform ThredUp found that while 65% of Gen Z respondents said they want to shop more sustainably and buy higher-quality clothing, one-third also described themselves as addicted to fast fashion, and more than two in five said they buy clothes that they're likely to wear only once. Researchers from Sheffield Hallam University in England found that despite their preference for sustainable clothing, 90% of young Brits still opt for fast fashion—and only 16% of those surveyed could name a single sustainable-fashion brand.
The article grapples with the very Gen Z phenomenon of caring more deeply about the environment than other generations while also easily falling prey to fast fashion overconsumption. It cites a 2020 study which found that
more than half of participants either agreed or strongly agreed with the statement, "I like it, I buy it," to describe their clothing-consumption behavior. One participant said that liking the clothes "is the most important thing," adding that they will buy cheap clothes they like even if they weren't sustainably made. Overgaard and Rønholt [the leaders of the study] concluded the reason for the discrepancy between Gen Z's preference for sustainable fashion and their behavior was mainly because of cost. "The low prices offered by fast fashion retailers were articulated as something that affected their attitude in the sense that they were willing to compromise with their attitude towards sustainability," they wrote in their report (X).
Look: I’m not justifying this behavior. Rather, I see it as something John Mulaney would imitate Ice-T saying on Law and Order: SVU. For me, it’s less of a fear of missing out on a micro-trend and more of a fear of missing out on a deal—because 40% off a $60 dress that costs $3.50 to make is a steal!
What I mean is that I want to be practical here for the people like me—your friendly neighborhood eco-terrorists. So, more aptly, I asked Bianca:
Emily: What is your advice for anyone looking to kick their fast fashion habit and/or overconsumption?
Bianca: I’m a HUGE advocate for taking a shopping break. It was really hard for me but it definitely changed my consumption habits for the better. At the end of 2022, I went a couple of months—I think three—without buying clothes. When I finally was like, “Okay I need to get some stuff,” it was so much easier to walk away from things because I had already gone months without it.
Going through a long period of time without something, you realize that you don’t need it. I’ve gone out of town, gone out with friends, and even gone on dates without buying anything, so now I’m so cool with what I have.
To save my reputation after dragging my own ass this entire piece, I want to talk about Poshmark. No, this is not a sponsored #ad but I do want to briefly turn this newsletter into my own QVC á là my heroes, Lisa Rinna and Deborah Vance, as I am selling several gorgeous items from my beloved closet. They can all be yours for the low, low price of a Shein jacket or the production cost of an Abercrombie top.
I’m sharing this for two reasons: one, obviously to hawk my wares, and two, I’m hawking my wares now that I’ve cleared out my closet. In the midst of acting as though my mother was running a boarding house during the Great Depression,1 I realized it might be wise to stop holding on to items that no longer fit or I no longer like. Despite (or maybe because of) my confessed “fast fashion thing,” I do try to take good care of my clothes in the hopes that they’ll last forever—either in my closet or someone else’s and never in a landfill.
I’ve also found that Poshmark and sites like it make shopping and selling secondhand more approachable if you’re like me and don’t want to spend copious amounts of time, money, or willpower physically fighting people at L Train Vintage.2 If we are to engage with fast fashion—forgive me Jane Fonda for I have shopped…and I fear I may shop again—the least we can do is something to mitigate any part of the damage it causes.
Seeking both permission and forgiveness, I asked Bianca:
Emily: Do you advocate for regular closet clearouts? If so, why and what are the main benefits of doing so?
Bianca: I am a bigger advocate now than I was before mostly because I was hoarding a lot a few years ago. I would always think that I might need something that I haven’t touched in 3-4 years but now, I honestly clear out my closet all the time. For example, if I’m trying to get dressed and I pick up a shirt and I put it on I’m like, “I haven’t worn this in forever,” my immediate second thought is “I don’t need it.”
I also feel a little less guilty when I do buy something because I know I’m not adding to the pile but replacing something from the past for something that fits me in the present.
One thing that will never change here at E4P is my willingness to play everyone’s favorite game—and that’s a campaign promise. Over the years, I’ve asked my guests to play some pretty wild iterations of fuck, marry, kill…this one isn’t the weirdest but it’s certainly the most niche:
Emily: Fuck, marry, kill: ThredUp, Nuuly, the RealReal?
Bianca: I actually don’t use Nuuly or ThredUp, but I do use The RealReal and a couple of others so I’m going re-frame this question.
I would fuck eBay (tried and true with a great return policy), I would kill Vestiaire Collective (so many cute things but usually in super small sizes and coming from Europe so it can get pricey), and I would marry the RealReal (they could never make me hate you ❤️).
Honestly? Real.
Thank you so much to Bianca for being so game to teach me about the environment and my own worst habits!!! If you haven’t read her previous pieces on sustainability and commodifying your hobbies for content, do yourself a favor and check them out now!!!
Incredible Kit Kittredge callback, I’m not even going to pretend to be humble about it.
Sidebar: have I just had wild experiences or is thrifting in New York always dramatic?