The Baksa Project

The Aesthetic of Resistance: Do Protest Tees Actually Benefit the Causes They Represent?

Politics, Pop Culture5

Fashion can be an important vehicle to steer change as long as it doesn’t stop at T-shirt activism.

It was at the Spring 2017 Paris Fashion Week showcase in September 2016, that Maria Grazia Chiuri, the then newly appointed, and the first ever female artistic director at Dior, presented her debut collection for the house. The collection’s army of romantic dresses in tulle and lace were, in every sense of the word, “feminine” — an aesthetic that has been Dior’s signature since its inception. What came to define the pulse of the show, and Dior’s stance for several seasons to follow was, however, a white slogan tee that read, “WE SHOULD ALL BE FEMINISTS” — the title of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s TED talk and book.

Soon after this statement tee made its runway debut, the rest of the fashion world saw a ripple effect as perhaps a response to the era’s tumultuous political climate. In the following (fashion) season, designers Prabal Gurung and Christian Siriano showcased similar slogan tees with politicised messages like, “People are people”, “I am an immigrant”, “Revolution has no borders” and “The future is female.” From celebrity soirees to high streets, protest (slogan) tees seemed to have cultivated fashion’s “it” trend status, consequently trickling down to fast fashion stores around the world, a space where their popularity continues to soar.

The History of Protest Tees

To think that it’s only the troubled political scenario of present times that has inspired fashion to speak out is far from true. Fashion has almost always been intertwined with politics. T-shirts, specifically, have long served as a powerful canvas for political messaging. Back in 1977, queen of punk, Vivienne Westwood, with her partner Malcolm McLaren, created what was possibly one of their most controversial pieces — a shirt with a red Nazi swastika, an inverted crucifixion, along with the words “DESTROY” and the lyrics of the Sex Pistols song, ‘Anarchy in the U.K’. In the 80s’, Katharine Hamnett, with the launch of her brand of political slogan T-shirts, became the forerunner of a culture of resistance. Some of her creations include, “Choose Life”, “Save the Sea”, “Make Poverty History”, the iconic, “58% don’t want Pershing” T-shirt that she wore to meet Margaret Thatcher in 1984, and, more recently, “Cancel Brexit”. 

Feminism Becomes Fashionable

One of the best modern-day examples of how a political movement has turned into a fashionable pop-culture phenomenon is feminism. Historically speaking, feminism, as Andi Zeisler, author of the book, ‘We Were Feminists Once’, describes, was thought to be “the realm of the angry, the cynical, the man-hating, and the off-puttingly hairy”. Today, feminism has become trendy and cool. Zeisler attributes this to what she calls “marketplace feminism” — “branding feminism as an identity that everyone can and should consume.” We now have the likes of H&M, Forever 21 and She-in cashing on the trend with their feminist tees (and jewellery, socks, tote bags…the list goes on). Let’s not forget that these brands with their merchandise emblazoned with catchphrases about women empowerment are the same ones that have society’s poorest women working for them in sweatshop conditions at extremely low wages.

Commercialising Social Issues

Using fashion as a medium for expression, whether personal or political, is an individual choice, and, history is proof that it has effectively given the silenced and the marginalised a voice. However, the commercialisation of social movements in today’s image-obsessed culture comes with the risk of important messages getting reduced to Instagrammable moments; a fact that creators are very well-aware of. In an interview with Grazia magazine, Hamnett, on being asked whether political fashion faces the danger of becoming gimmicky, said — “It’s definitely cool to look as if you care.” 

Brands today are increasingly using “woke-washing” tactics to appear socially conscious, and to appeal to the millennial and Gen Z market. It’s eventually left on us consumers to judge the legitimacy of their claims. It is left on us to call them out when they vaguely state that they are “dedicating a percentage of proceeds from each sale” to a noble cause — we would really like to know what percentage.

This isn’t to suggest that protest tees are all a sham. We know that protest dressing can spark a debate about important world issues. Protest dressing can even spur positive change. But as long as it doesn’t come with an essential follow-through on the message, it isn’t protest; it’s merely a great photo-op.

Garb, Not Garbage: Why Minimising Your Wardrobe is Not Always the Most Sustainable Choice

Maximalism, Sustainable Fashion5

By getting rid of your old clothes, you’re doing the environment more damage than good.

If you are reading this, I would assume that you dedicate a reasonable amount of your day’s time to the internet, and must be well-conversant with what is ubiquitous in pop culture. And, if that assumption holds true, off late, you’ve quite certainly come across a post (or many) by someone you know, KonMari-ing their way to a clutter-free wardrobe and home.

Ever since the release of the Netflix documentary, ‘Tidying up with Marie Kondo’ in January, this year, there’s a sudden surge in people’s urge to purge (erm sorry, but the rhyme was just too tempting). Every other person seems to be on a mission to shake-up their home with the objective of identifying the things that “spark joy” and breaking ties with the rest. 

Full disclaimer: I have neither read Kondo’s book nor watched her documentary. I have, however, read several articles, think pieces and critiques that followed the KonMari mania to grasp the gist of her mantra and deduce that it only focusses on giving individuals a temporary sense of accomplishment and high, while completely disregarding what happens after. 

“Keep only those things that speak to your heart. Then take the plunge and discard all the rest. By doing this, you can reset your life and embark on a new lifestyle”, writes Kondo. This statement, no matter how well-intentioned, reeks of indifference and mindlessness, and gives more power to the same disposability culture that drives people to shop for things they don’t necessarily need, just because they’re cheap (and dispensable). 

Also, where does all this “discarded” stuff finally end up? If not in the hands of someone needy, it most likely ends up clogging landfills. Nope. The environment already has a lot baggage to take on another “30 bags” of stuff you’ve suddenly realised doesn’t spark joy in your life anymore.

In the midst of this ongoing conversation about the wonders of minimal living that the likes of Marie Kondo have spurred, there also seems to be a growing idea of how living with less means living sustainably. The concept of ‘Capsule Wardrobes’ that many sustainable fashion advocates swear by is also a product of this ideology. While I absolutely agree that it is important to circulate and re-wear the clothes you have, as much as possible, what I don’t quite agree with is that, to do so, you have to “reduce your closet”.

When you decide to let your wardrobe comprise of only 20 pieces, you also have the responsibility to think about what to do with the rest of the clothes you own that didn’t make the cut as your capsule wardrobe staples.

Proponents of capsule and minimalist wardrobes may argue that they don’t let their unwanted clothes go to trash; they donate them, and, thereby, help people in need. According to an article by Scienceline, contrary to popular belief, donated clothes very rarely end up benefitting people within the community, especially in Western nations. 

I have personally also begun to feel slightly conflicted about the idea of donating old clothes. I lost my grandfather last year, and, after he passed, we reasonably decided to donate all his clothes to an old-age home a family friend told us about. On reaching the old age home, we were informed by the neighbours that institution had moved to a new address, and, on seeing the huge bags of clothes in our hands, they politely advised us against donating clothes to them since they had often seen them burn the clothes that they were given because they already had so much. 

I suspect this to be a practice many such institutions follow for the same reason — supply is greater than the demand. 

So then, what is the best way to deal with the clothes one doesn’t need anymore? Here are some tips:

– Hand down: Often when you donate your old clothes, you don’t really know where or how they’re eventually going to end up. It is always better to personally give them to someone you know will use and care for them. Alternatively, reach out to institutions that are trustworthy and transparent about how they handle donations. Goonj is a highly credible NGO you can approach for donations. They have collection centres all across India. Clothes Box Foundation uses social media to connect the donor of the clothes with the recipient. This way, you exactly know who your old clothes are benefitting. 

– Use them as DIY supplies: Old clothes can make excellent raw materials for a variety of DIY projects. T-shirt rugs, memory quilts, cushion covers, the possibilities of what you can create using your worn-out clothes are endless. 

– Swap or sell: I have written about swapping and selling old clothes in some of my previous posts, and I truly do think it is one of the most effective (and rewarding) ways you can extend the lifespan of your clothes. Keep an eye out for local clothing swap events or organise one among your circle of friends. 

Regardless of whether you identify as a minimalist or maximalist, what’s important to know and remember is that sustainability is not about how much or how little you own but about how well you use what you already own. It’s not just about buying less, but also about wasting less.

So no, Ms. Marie Kondo, I disagree when you say that my shirt has reached the end of its life just because its button fell off. Watch me care, repair and re-wear.

“What’s in it For Me?”: Unpacking Sustainable Fashion’s Value Proposition for the ‘Millennial’

Marketing, Millennials, Sustainable Fashion6

In the context of sustainable fashion, greater good does not have to compete with self-interest.

Millennials. A lot is constantly written and said about us. We are the subject of several research studies and have marketers obsessing over how our unique brains are wired, trying to decipher trends in our behaviour. We are also touted to be a socially conscious generation; a generation that cares about ethical and sustainable causes, and drives brands to be more responsible and transparent about their practices. 

Yes, we are well-informed, mindful and woke, but does that reflect on our purchase decisions? 

Findings suggest not. And it’s not because we don’t have our heart in the right place.

Last year, Business of Fashion had published an opinion piece on how there’s a gap between millennials’ positive sentiments towards sustainability vis-à-vis their purchase patterns, attributing the same to lack of “product availability and clear marketing”. Most sustainable fashion brands we have today rarely meet an average millennial’s purchase criteria, whether it’s in terms of price, value or aesthetics.

Catherine, a 22-year-old forensic science student and part-time content writer from Bangalore, India, echoes similar views. “I feel there is a lack of availability of sustainable fashion in India. Other countries have a larger selection to choose from. Also, the options that we have available are very expensive with neutral colour palettes that are not appealing at all.”, she says. 

A few weeks ago, while browsing through Instagram, a story that my friend had posted caught my attention. It was a screenshot of a post from SSS Magazine’s Instagram page; a quote by Moses Koul, a 26-year-old musician, sharing his views on sustainable fashion (appended below). 

Source: Instagram

People like Moses and Catherine belong to a group of young individuals who are motivated to make mindful fashion decisions but feel restricted because they see a paucity of sustainable options that are accessible and aesthetically pleasing.

And, I don’t disagree.There surely is a gap. However, I still believe we have solutions if we are willing to try. 

I recently came across a very useful guide by sustainability consultants BSR and Futerra titled, ‘Selling Sustainability’. Although the guide is meant for marketers, being someone who advocates for sustainable fashion, it gave me a lot of great takeaways.

The guide pointed out something very important and put all what I’d read on this subject in perspective — today, most sustainability marketing only sells sustainability. What it taps on, like Koul pointed out, is the consumers’ guilt, and what it gives them is only a temporary feel-good factor. It doesn’t do more than that and it should. Because, there truly is much more to it.

Based on my learnings from the guide, I will attempt and break down sustainable fashion’s value proposition for the millennial consumer — tell you what is really in it for you:

Functional Benefits

– Earn and Save Money – One of the biggest apprehensions most people have about sustainable fashion is that it is not affordable. 

While it’s true that sustainable and ethical fashion labels are expensive in comparison to fast fashion brands, they are so owing to several factors ranging from the cost of raw materials these brands use, to the higher wages they pay their workers. 

If you feel like the price of sustainable fashion brands is what holds you back from making mindful fashion choices, you can still opt for sustainable clothing options that are not heavy on the pocket at all. Vintage, thrifted and second hand clothing is sustainable as well as economical. Instagram brands like carols.shop and redempress.label sell affordable and exclusive vintage pieces from all over the world. Websites like kiabza.com,  coutloot.com and theluxurycloset.com both, buy and sell second hand clothing where you can even make some bucks in exchange for your old clothes and accessories. 

Emotional Benefits

– Explore Your Creative Side – What do you do with a pair of jeans that’s had a little tear? What about a shirt you burned while ironing? Chances are that you either throw such clothes away or turn them into dust rags. 

With techniques like visible mending, darning, embroidery and textile collage, you can use your creativity to mend and upcycle your old and damaged clothes; perhaps, make them even better than they were, originally.  There are several Instagram accounts where you can find upcycling tutorials and mending inspiration. My personal favourites include katrinarodabaug,  tickover and mindful_mending.

– Connect With Your Roots – I quite often wonder why there are so few narratives that touch upon the link between sustainable fashion and nostalgia. For me, the greatest thing about choosing sustainable fashion is that it has helped me connect with my past through material memory. Whether it is my dad’s old shirt or my grandfather’s old houndstooth blazer or my great grandmother’s old Ikat saree, each one of these garments have wonderful stories attached to them that, by virtue of my choices, I have had the privilege of learning and carrying forward.

Social Benefits

– Be a Part of a Mindful Community – Someone who has little knowledge about sustainable fashion may find it a tad bit overwhelming, perhaps even intimidating to venture into the space. I, for one, had several inhibitions when I began my journey with The Baksa Project. 

In the past couple of months of me actively interacting and engaging with the community, I have found it to be extremely helpful, encouraging and warm.

If you are willing to take mindful steps but need a little guidance, be rest assured that the community will embrace you and walk with you through your journey.

For most consumers who decide to take the sustainability plunge, the starting point of a sustainable purchase becomes a brand they usually shop from. It is important to note that several fast fashion brands today make vague and baseless claims regarding their green impact in order to appear conscious. As consumers, it is crucial that we use the right judgement to differentiate brands that greenwash from those that are genuinely working towards sustainability. Just because a label says “eco-friendly” doesn’t mean that it is. A sustainability commitment requires that we constantly make ourselves aware and never stop asking questions. 

And, if that seems like a lot of work, it probably is, but I promise you this — it is rewarding in more ways than one.

All’s Well That Trends Well (What Doesn’t is Probably Great Too!)

Personal Style, Sustainable Fashion, Trends7

Out of fashion doesn’t necessarily have to mean out of style. 

There’s a long-standing joke that my father has on all the women in the family. It’s never funny when he says it, but it’s 100% true — we are all victims of the ‘Nothing to Wear Syndrome’.

Think about the number of times you, or somebody you know stood in front of a closet bursting at the seams and complained: “I have nothing to wear!”

Let’s be honest. The statement rings true for many of us, and for several reasons. Sometimes, it’s because we’ve outgrown the clothes we have. The other times, it’s because these clothes have seen better days. Most times, it’s because they’ve gone out of fashion, and we, as ardent followers of trends, feel compelled to keep up. It’s a vicious cycle that urges us to buy clothes that we will only wear a couple of times until new trends emerge and make the ones we own, redundant. 

And then, again, we are left with nothing to wear.

The recent success of Instagram and the insider access that the platform has given us users to the traditionally elitist and cliquish world of fashion, is reason enough to believe that our insatiable appetite for fashion trends is rather nascent. Trends are now a lot more accessible — not just in terms of their availability but also their affordability. It’s only a matter of days after a trend is spotted on the runway (and by virtue of live streaming, our smartphones), that its multiple low-cost and quality variations trickle down to the racks of fast fashion stores. There’s also a growing number of smalltime Instagram shops and e-commerce websites that thrive on offering cheap designer knockoffs. For trend-crazy shoppers with budget constraints, this is great news. For creators and the environment at large, not so much.

Fashion trends aren’t born out of thin air. They capture the zeitgeist of an era. The hippie counterculture that emerged in the late ‘60s and gained momentum in the ‘70s gave fashion its cherished bell-bottom jeans and flower power motifs. In the ‘80s, the trend of female power dressing caught on as it became a means for women to assert their authority in professional spaces dominated by men. Creators are constantly influenced by the flow of culture, the state of politics and the general spirit of the prevailing times. These influences translate into creations, and the creations spark trends. It’s an ongoing cycle where past trends are also often seen making comebacks.

In today’s digital age, fashion trends have several reference points ranging from the streets to the screens, and their shelf lives are also much shorter. In an article by W Magazine, Bruce Pask, the men’s fashion director at Bergdorf Goodman attributes the overload of visual information to our “hunger for the new and the next.” If the very nature of trends, especially in current times, is that they are constantly undergoing a change, does that mean our wardrobes need to also change alongside and at the same pace, leaving little or no room for the clothes that we already own? 

In a world already facing the brunt of the drastic damage done by the fashion industry, our incessant hunger for current trends might we something we all need to reassess. In doing so, one can experience, what I believe, is the greatest joy fashion can offer — being able to cultivate a style that’s unique and an extension of who you are!

Fashion trends exist for a reason, but by no means should they bind our style choices. Style is instinctive and is driven by personal inspiration. It can’t, and must not be dictated. For someone who loves fashion, the awareness of current trends is a part of their understanding of the direction in which the industry is transitioning. What’s essential is to view trends in perspective without getting obsessive about coveting them.

Having said that, I also do understand that there may be times when you find yourself drawn to a current trend because it defines your aesthetic. What then seems to be the usual course of action for most, as it used to be for the old me, is to turn to fast fashion brands and spend hours scouring websites like Shein in search of that trend. While these options are technically on-trend, they aren’t by any means prudent.

Since fashion trends have a nature of repeating themselves, in times when you have an urge to shop for the season’s trendiest looks, avoid giving into the temptation mindlessly and, instead, look in places people generally wouldn’t — thrift shops, second hand stores or perhaps even your own old wardrobe.  

Who knows? You might rediscover a long-forgotten jacket in the shade of Living Coral from several seasons ago that’ll still be very “in” when you wear it today!

Well, even if don’t, you’ll still find something wonderful that makes your style, yours, and not of just another high-street clone’s.

The Mindful Maximalist: A Maximalist’s Guide to Adopting a Sustainable Approach to Fashion

Maximalism, Personal Style, Sustainable Fashion7

Aesthetically speaking, sustainable fashion has a certain air of minimality and sobriety about it. What does it then hold for the lover of offbeat style with a motivation to be mindful and conscious?  

Associations. Our ideas about the world at large revolve around them. What do you associate the colour red with? Love? Danger? How about the word ‘compassion’? Your grandmother? Mother Teresa? Associations help us arrive at quick solutions. Associations help us make safe choices. 

What associations also do, however, is make us closed-minded.

Our minds get conditioned to draw connections based on the learnings and experiences we have along our journey. Often, this very conditioning makes us so accustomed to a set way of thinking, that it becomes hard to imagine another way. That is, until someone tells you different, and you go, “Ah! I wonder why I didn’t think of it that way?” Frans Johansson, in his book titled ‘The Medici Effect’ writes about how “associative barriers” can hinder people’s creativity by making them jump to conclusions too quickly.

It is perhaps these associative barriers that made the ill-informed fashion enthusiast that I was a few years ago associate sustainable fashion only with clothes that are expensive and minimalistic: not meant for someone with an eclectic sensibility (and a tight budget) like me. For me, a die-hard lover of vibrance and variety in my clothes, sustainable fashion seemed like an impossible territory to set foot in, because of the preconceived ideas I had about it. 

The perception that sustainable fashion speaks a subdued visual language is essentially social-media-driven. Search for the hashtag ‘sustainable fashion’ on Instagram, and you will spot common themes – clean frames, earthy tones, elements of nature and a general lack of colour. Although there’s certainly nothing wrong with the basic image that the sustainable fashion space seems to have cultivated, it leaves little room for capturing the interest of someone with an unconventional personal style. 

It is not without reason that the tag of minimalism is attached to sustainable fashion. In an interesting piece on Fashionista.com, journalist Whitney Bauck tells why. By virtue, sustainability stands for spending less and spending mindfully. Those being the driving principles for a majority of sustainable fashion brands, creating conscious pieces that are timeless and functional becomes a prevailing standard to abide by. In other words, for a sustainable brand, to craft a collection doused in the season’s trendiest colours, featuring styles and cuts that are in vogue today but will lose relevance in the seasons to come just isn’t sustainable enough. 

In the article, 18-year-old, ethical fashion blogger, Tolmeia Gregory of Tolly Dolly Posh is also quoted explaining that much of the “fun” materials, such as sequins or vinyl used to embellish and add texture and variation to garments are not sustainable, and, are therefore, off limits for brands trying to produce new clothing, sustainably. 

Today, there are a number of slow fashion labels like Ka Sha (India), IRISHLATINA (USA), Rianna + Nina (Germany) that don’t comply with the domain’s dominant minimal aesthetic and work with post-production, post-consumer, vintage and second-hand fabrics, to create clothing that is refreshingly one-of-a-kind. However, given the fact that for slow fashion labels, there are huge costs and efforts involved at every level of the supply chain, they aren’t always economically accessible to everyone. 

What does a frugal maximalist, willing to make conscious fashion decisions, then do? Here are some tips that the maximalist me swears by to access fun fashion that is as budget-friendly as it is sustainable:

Reusing and Repurposing 

Once I’d decided I wanted and needed to make sustainable fashion choices for myself, I started from the place I knew best: my own home. Coming from a family of hoarders, I knew we’d have years of accumulated  and unused clothes lying around. My biggest aim starting ‘The Baksa Project’ was fuelled by the idea of repurposing and reusing what I already own and through it, experiencing the joy of making. From turning my great-grandma’s sarees into jackets and skirts to transforming my torn denims into hand-embroidered and personal storyboards, not only has reusing and repurposing given what’s old and spoiled, a new life, but has also given me a chance to learn amazing skills and express my personal style and story more beautifully.

Thrifting Second Hand and Vintage Clothing

All my life, I have loved thrift shopping. I was 10 when I had my first thrift shopping experience with my mom, and there’s been no looking back, since.

The joy of mixing and matching, the character that a slightly ragged seam adds to a garment, the entire mystery of how a beautifully hand-embroidered silk skirt finds itself in the neighbourhood thrift store – to me, each one of these elements make the thrift shopping experience joyous. What makes it all the more better is the fact that these clothes are already in circulation, which means that by thrifting, not only are you preventing garments from ending up in landfills, but are also playing your part in reducing pollution resulting due to the production and distribution of new garments.

Clothing Swaps

As a maximalist, I am constantly looking for variety in my wardrobe. A fun and mindful way to achieve that is through clothes swapping: exchanging what you’ve gotten over or grown out of with something interesting that someone else owns and doesn’t need. You could swap clothes with your family, friends, or even organise a clothes swapping event within your circle. There are also a number of platforms that you can use to swap clothes with people living remotely, although I still believe that it is both, more economical as well as sustainable to do the swapping locally.

The closed-mindedness that I had with regards to sustainable fashion was purely because I wasn’t well informed and took it at face-value. As someone who’s recently begun taking more conscious fashion calls, I encourage everyone to constantly ask, read and make oneself more aware. 

If you have any questions about how to stay true to your individual style while being sustainable, or just about anything else, I’d be very glad to help. 

Love,

Karishma

Finders Keepers: In Praise of Being Unconventional and Un-Instaworthy

Personal Style8

If our longing for something is kindled only when someone else sees worth in it, and our choices need constant validation, where is there any room left for individuality?

My relationship with clothes is instinctive — almost emotional. Ever since I was a little girl, clothes have been an integral part of what makes me. Being someone who is slightly reticent, I don’t talk a lot: I let my clothes do the talking for me.

A couple of years ago, during one of my family’s routine Sunday clean-ups, as my mother was sifting through some baksas that had her old sarees, I spotted a florid bottle green fabric tucked somewhere under the pile of 6-yard beauties.“What’s this?”, I asked. “Oh, this. This is a Kashmiri robe that your father used to wear many years ago”, my mother replied.

“I’m keeping it”, I said. And I did.

I have had that slightly ragged robe for three years now, and it has travelled with me everywhere I have gone since. I have worn it on several occasions, and have gotten extreme reactions to it ranging from “Wow, this is fabulous” to “Oh, so you decided to swap personalities with Daler Mehndi today, huh?” All reactions aside, to me, what truly matters is that this piece of garment is one-of-a-kind. It sets me apart and lets me speak a visual language that is my own. It belonged to my dad several years ago and it belongs to me now. That’s precious, at least to me.

Today, the way we view the world and how the world views us has changed. I call it the Age of Instagram, because, really, the influence this photo-sharing platform has had on everything — from our vocabulary to our aesthetic, is mind-boggling. Although I sincerely love it and believe that it’s a remarkable source of inspiration and creative stimulation, I also think that the platform has given rise to a herd mentality. People looking the same, dressing the same, travelling to the same places, curating the same visual stories and saying the same things in the same manner, sometimes often for the sake of Instagrammability.

I won’t lie, I have conformed to the unspoken rules of Instagram expression as well. Umpteen number of times.

An opinion piece by fashion journalist Katherine Ormerod in Harper’s Bazaar presents an interesting perspective on this. Ormerod speaks about the ‘homogenisation of Instagram happiness’ — a set formula for what constitutes a happy and successful life, a life that is likeable (on social media). Ormerod has, on several platforms, shared experiences of when her life was far from perfect, but her Instagram feed needed to be.

Perhaps one of the reasons we tend to stick to formulaic ways of visual communication today, especially on social media, is because conforming is safer (and easier) than standing out. Maybe we fear not being ‘liked’ for our actual self. In this quest to be liked and validated, it’s easy for us to lose sight of who we really are and what makes us different.

One of my favourite fashion figures, Iris Apfel — the 97-year-old “Rare Bird of Fashion” who’s known for her uninhibited and eccentric sense of style, rose to global prominence only in the last decade or so, owing to the burgeoning power of internet technology.
Not a fan of the digital medium herself, however, Apfel attributes people’s addiction to digital tools for their restricted ability to think and to get to know themselves.

Earlier this year, CNN Style posted an article and video featuring Apfel where the luminary talked about the growing lack of individuality in fashion. “The world is becoming so homogenised. It’s very boring. I think difference is what’s so interesting.”, she said.

In the world of fashion, where visuals are key, this growing culture of sameness is hampering creativity at both ends of the spectrum — the consumer as well as the creator. Instagram accounts like Diet Prada are doing excellent work towards documenting and reporting increasingly rampant plagiarism in fashion.

In an interview that I did last year with Geraldine Wharry, a London-based trend forecaster, she complained that a creative block had hit the industry like never before.“I feel there’s a real crisis of creativity in fashion right now. There are often these phrases like ‘future proof’ thrown around and it’s all very anxious. Brands are constantly chasing their consumers and looking at what everyone else is doing. I know this sounds like a bit of a paradox coming from a trend forecaster, but maybe trend forecasting needs to change as well.”, she said.

As an avid (read obsessive) user of Instagram, I understand that the platform can be a huge influence in shaping our ideas, without us even realising it. However, if our ideas are constantly fuelled by what our network is doing, and our network’s by what their network is doing, won’t we all get stuck in a pit of banality? Where will there be any place for authenticity or magic?

On days when I feel stuck in a rut, I find immense pleasure and comfort in opening boxes and drawers in my house and discovering something of my past; my family’s past. It makes me feel closer to myself and my roots. It reminds me of my journey and what makes me unique. It triggers a wonderful creative energy within. This is what my father’s old Kashmiri robe does for me. 

I truly believe each one of you has something that’s as important to you. Something that can make your dreary days, meaningful and special. Something that will show you the way when you feel lost. Find what that is, and keep it close. It’s yours and yours alone.

CONscious Claims: The Truth About How Your Favourite Fashion Brands Are Tricking You

Sustainable Fashion7

In recent times, the talk of sustainability and ethical fashion has garnered a lot of media and consumer interest around the world. Numerous fast fashion labels whose fundamental business model goes against the idea of sustainable production, are now making “green” claims to lure responsible consumers, thereby giving impetus to a trend called greenwashing.

“100% organic cotton. Manufactured solely using renewable energy generated from wind and solar power.” — so reads the tag on a T-shirt from the multinational Swedish clothing retailer, H&M’s ‘Conscious Collection’. Launched in the year 2010, H&M Conscious claims to be an initiative to offer “fashion choices that are good for people, the planet and your wallet”. H&M also aims to promote sustainable consumption among its buyers by offering them a discount of 15% for handing in their old clothes that it would later use to recycle. In theory, these measures seem highly noble, but in reality, they are possible greenwashing tactics — making customers believe that the brand is a lot more eco-friendly and socially-responsible than it actually is.

H&M’s sustainability initiatives came increasingly under fire in the year 2016 when the brand initiated the World Recycle Week. An article published in the Guardian criticised H&M for its plans to collect and recycle 1,000 tonnes of unwanted garments – about the same amount of clothes it produces in 48 hours. The piece also noted that the brand would take close to 12 years to utilise the said amount of fashion waste. Further, the fact that H&M offers discounts to its customers for bringing in their old clothing was called out to be a strategy by the brand to drive more purchases.

In September this year, the Clean Clothes Campaign published an upsetting report titled, ‘H&M: fair living wages were promised, poverty wages are the reality’. Back in the year 2013, H&M had published a ‘Roadmap towards a fair living wage in the textile industry’ that aimed to pay 850,000 textile workers a fair living wage by 2018. According to the CCC report, not only is H&M nowhere close to its previously-stated goal, but the brand has also removed the original fair living wages promise from its corporate communication material.

H&M is among the top league of the world biggest fast fashion brands, pitted against the likes of Zara and Forever 21. According to its 2017 annual report, the brand generated upwards of 25 billion USD in global sales. Large-scale production volumes of low-cost clothing consume monstrous amounts of resources and contribute to the environmental footprint considerably. H&M’s efforts in the sustainability direction, therefore, seem highly contradictory to its very being.

While such is the case with H&M: the fast-fashion brand that proudly carries the baton of sustainable and ethical fashion, its other fast fashion brethren are also attempting to tread the green route. In 2016, Zara launched its so-called sustainability line named ‘Join Life Label’. Last year, Mango also climbed on the bandwagon by launching its ‘Committed Collection’. The collection, comprising of 45 pieces (25 for women and 20 for men) claims to be 100% sustainable. It is important to note that Mango, a brand whose DNA is similar to the Zaras and the H&Ms of the world, impacts more than just the environment. The production for these brands, more often than not, happens in countries where the labour is cheap and working conditions highly poor. In 2013, 1134 garment workers died in the collapse of a factory building, Rana Plaza, situated in a suburb outside Dhaka, Bangladesh. Clothes of Mango, along with many other popular fast fashion brands like United Colors of Benetton, Zara, Walmart, C&A, Carrefor, Joe Fresh, etc. were being produced in the sweatshop, but Mango, was amongst the first brands to deny that it had any association with the factory. This is probably because Mango did not place a direct order with the factory but subcontracted it to a supplier. Basically, Mango had no idea where its clothes were being made, let alone being aware of the awful conditions in which the workers were making them.

In 2016, BBC Panorama released a documentary titled Undercover: The Refugees Who Make Our Clothes. The investigation found Syrian refugee children and adults making clothes for popular high street labels like Marks and Spencer, ASOS and Next in Turkish sweatshops. It also reported that in a factory, Syrian refugees were working 12-hour shifts, distressing jeans for Mango and Zara under hazardous working conditions. According to the documentary, the refugees were paid close to a pound an hour — a remuneration well below the Turkish minimum wage standard.

Last year, workers from an outsourced manufacturer for Zara were going into Zara stores in Istanbul and leaving tags reading, “I made this item you are going to buy, but I didn’t get paid for it” inside clothes. The workers were employed at the Bravo Tekstil factory in Istanbul that used to manufacture clothes for Zara, Mango and Next. In 2016, the factory shut overnight and its workers were left without three months of pay as well as severance allowance.

So, when Inditex (Zara’s parent company), mouths powerful sounding statements like, “Inditex has always been fully committed to sustainability and the protection of human rights throughout its value chain”, it’s a little hard to digest.

Forever 21, a favourite amongst fashionable shoppers on a budget, has also been guilty of greenwashing. In 2015, the fast-fashion giant, through a press release, proudly announced that its headquarters in the Lincoln Heights neighbourhood of Los Angeles had the largest single-rooftop solar-power system in Los Angeles County. Mind you, this is the same brand that mass-produces clothing majorly using polyester, in overseas factories that aren’t solar powered. These activities contribute to the carbon footprint to such a large extent, that the brand boasting about its solar-powered center seems no more than a gimmick to make headlines and appear environmentally responsible.

Above are just a few among the many examples of how the fast fashion labels overplay their green endeavours in the hope of assuaging their irresponsible practices. It would be unfair not to acknowledge some of the genuinely good work that some of these brands are aiming to do in this direction, even though their efforts may be an afterthought. But, given the way their business model is built, even the best of their pursuits can create only a mere ripple in the ocean of mess that they have already created.

Today, with our pockets becoming deeper, and clothing, cheaper, mindless purchasing has become a habit for many. Given the rate at which fashion cycles are moving and new styles are making their way into stores, the practice of buying and tossing clothes has become normalised. Remember, the true cost of that Zara dress is far more than what’s mentioned on its label.

As consumers of fashion, for us to be mindful and aware of our buying habits has become a priority now. Unlike popular belief, sustainable fashion doesn’t have to be boring. In fact, it can even help you discover your personal style, better. Here are some tips to help you start:

1. Shop Mindfully – Remember, quality > quantity. Invest in organic fabrics, statement pieces, and stick to a capsule wardrobe. If like me, you are also a lover of variety, shop from vintage or thrift stores.

2. Upcycle and Donate – Instead of trashing garments you’re bored of, upcycle them to create something new. Even better, donate them.

3. Opt for Brands That Maintain Transparency – Brands that are open about the origin of their garments, their production practices, the labour they employ and their wage practices are the ones you should consider shopping from. A good way to gauge the sustainability commitment of a label is to check its rankings on platforms like the Good On You app and Rank a brand. These platforms provide fairly accurate performance measures for brands based on a wide range of sustainability factors. 

The Baksa Project: To Rediscovering the Magic of My Past Hidden in Boxes

Sustainable Fashion4

It is the winter of 1999. My dad, a lieutenant colonel in the Indian Army, is newly posted to one of the wettest parts of the country – a charming and lush little town called Missamari in Assam. The 9-year-old me is thrilled. Moving to a new place comes with its fair share of surprises – new friends, a new school, and an entirely new habitat to explore. By now, having already been through the drill of changing towns and schools a couple of times, all of this still does excite me, sure, but what I am far more enthusiastic about is something rather unlikely to catch a kid’s fancy – the process of unpacking baksas – aluminium storage trunks that those with an Army upbringing have grown up seeing in plenty.

These baksas contain a lot of history – essentials, handpicked collectibles from each of the towns that my family has travelled to over the years, hand-me-downs from my parents’ parents, and some “please-throw-the-damn-thing-away”s (as my dad would put it) that my hoarder mom hasn’t had the heart to part with. It’s these throwaways that I am interested in. You see, to me, they aren’t useless. They’re treasure! What myriad possibilities could a slightly broken jute fruit basket offer? It could be a bed for my Barbie dolls, a storage basket for my kitchen set, or a boat that I could line up with Taro leaves and set afloat in the torrential rains of Missamari. It could be just anything in my magical world, only with a little bit of tweaking.

This memory is a part of my childhood that still remains very special to me. Going over drawers and boxes all around the house in the hope of chancing upon some kind of treasure that perhaps was treasure in my eyes alone…

Fast-forward fifteen years, the working 24-year-old me has metamorphosed into a quintessential fast-fashion-loving, city-residing girl whose superpowers include being able to smell a sale from miles afar and interests include buying things just for the sake of buying them. I hoard and hoard until it becomes a problem. My Twitter handle is ‘Shopaholic_Me’ (makes me cringe hard now), for God’s sake! I own shoes that I cannot dare to walk in and clothes that I will, at best, wear twice, and never look at again. My mom thinks it’s a lack of self-control, but I blame my genes. When asked why I shop for things I don’t need, my answer is simple and standard – “It’s for the sake of art. I love fashion, and this is me investing in my art.”

At age 26, I decide to join fashion school for my postgraduate studies after three and a half years of working across jobs I am really not into. Fashion being a space I have always loved and been fascinated by, I reckon this to be a decision both logically and creatively sound.

Two years of being schooled in fashion gives me a whole new perspective on a multitude of facets that make the industry. I begin to appreciate the creative process more than the outcome itself, garner newfound respect for those who work relentlessly towards breaking stereotypes in an inward-looking industry, learn that there’s so much abuse and exploitation that the workers toiling in sweatshops have to go through to mass produce clothing sold under labels of the world’s biggest fast fashion giants. It is truly eye-opening and necessarily so.

In today’s appearance-driven world where there’s so much madness of materialism, it is easy to get caught into the web of buying more and more, regardless of whether or not there is a need for it. I am guilty of it, and I can say with conviction that must be many others like me. Today, the barrage of Instagram influencers sharing posts about their impeccably put-together #OOTDs may compel you to go on a mindless shopping spree, but it is really important to think about the repercussions of the same. Somebody has to pay the price of making low-cost (fast) fashion available to you and, more often than not, that somebody is already struggling to make ends meet. To add to that are the environmental concerns of water pollution, toxic chemical use, and textile waste that the fashion industry is hugely responsible for. Fashion is among the world’s top ten highest polluting industries! 

This awareness, coupled with my longing to reconnect with my past are the driving forces behind the conception of The Baksa Project.

The Baksa Project is a personal project where my aim is to repurpose what I already own; what my mother and my grandmother have owned for decades. Rummage through extraordinary pieces of fabrics and scraps that have been lying away in boxes for years – not being used, not being given away for sentimental reasons, and work with them to create something new and unique, while trying to minimise waste as much as possible by reusing what’s left of the materials in the process. It is to rekindle the joy of creating. To not let myself drown in the sea of sameness that exists today, and cultivate a style that is my own. To be conscious of the history of my clothes: what they mean and where they come from, and to tell the stories associated with them. Lastly and most importantly, it is to make a mindful effort to break ties with fast fashion.

So this is me – a former fast-fashion-loving girl trying to embrace a more meaningful and sustainable approach to my art. With that, I have decided to give up fast fashion for good and work towards personalising what I wear by (re)using what I have.

I welcome you all to join me on my journey. 🙂

Love,

Karishma