Guilty Fashion: Call Me Captain Lycra

Like a moth to the flame, I am attracted to anything that shines, sequins, vinyl, and any number of polymers.

Sheep, not fashion Foto: PR

I have often been the champion of lost causes. Take fashion pollution, for instance. I like to think of myself as a “slow fashion“ hero in a fast-fashion world. Before I bore you with all the unfathomable figures one can read about elsewhere (that the fashion industry is either number 2 or 3 behind the oil industry, yes, really) let me just count myself among the many Dr Evils out there. I’m the worst polluter, I admit it. Maybe not THE WORST, but bad. I cannot bring myself to stop shopping, let alone wear only bio-degradable fabrics.

After watching Alex James’s incredible film, Slowing Down Fast Fashion, and his solutions to stopping it (buy wool! it can be buried and dissolves within 3 months!), I went through my closet with disgust.

Look at this film made about my closet many moons ago. I’m wearing anything and everything manmade. Like a moth attracted to the flame, anything that shines, sequins, vinyl, and any number of polymers used to make that fantastic Miu Miu coat.

Of the wool items I own, only a few of which are 100% wool, most are already in the process of bio-degrading. The moths are fast in this town. That’s it: I’ve found my scapegoat. The moths, in the end, are the promoters of fast fashion. My hands are tied.

But then there are the many items they turn their noses up at: the blends, wool plus poly-something. Let me spell that out for you if you haven’t seen Alex James’s film: it means that that shit will not dissolve, ashes to ashes, EVER.

So one could make the pledge, “Never ever will I buy anything other than 100% wool,“ and feel smug and smart and heroic. Captain Lamm to the rescue. Buy only wool and, here’s the best part in doing my part to help capitalism: I will always have a need to shop unless I want to walk around looking like Swiss cheese.

This feeling lasts for a week. (Maybe it’s been two.) I go to stores and leave empty handed having kept x-number of blendy items out of my shopping cart.

In the end, I cannot bear the idea of life without lycra or lurex. Solidgold, after all, is my middle name! (One word. Really. You gotta give it to the Queen Mum for having a sense of humor.)

Sure, I can resell things on making them not my problem anymore, or I can donate them to the Red Cross. But what kills me, what makes me feel non-heroic is my need for more, which is unquellable!

The answer? Vintage?

To be continued….

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