Lately I’ve been thinking about the concept of a slow fashion wardrobe. Trends can be exhausting, leaving you broke and ripe for an identity crisis at the end of the day. While I find myself buying into them, I also feel myself longing for a deeper, more prolific relationship with what I wear.
I can guess your next question: what in the Sam Heck is slow fashion? It is, in the strictest of terms, fashion that thinks ethically and performs sustainably. It is fashion that invests in both the maker and the consumer. However, I also see it as a broader consumer philosophy. Currently, slow fashion is defined as an industry production revolution, but I believe it can be a quieter, personal revolution that frames how we express ourselves through our clothes and guides our buying choices. To wit: it dignifies garment longevity and praises the well-edited wardrobe. It respectfully abstains from the sensational, yet expects change and accommodates it when prompted to.
So practically, what does this look like?
- A solid core of well-made, considered pieces that travel throughout life with me.
- Buying ethically when I can (see previous post).
- An allowance for fast-fashion moments–but nothing that would turn out to be a major investment.
- A commitment to continual self-examination.
After thinking on this concept for a bit, I found myself staring at this No. 6 jumpsuit and realized it was my first intentionally slow fashion buy, and I can tell you exactly why.
- I know that jumpsuits have been a consistency in my life for quite some time. Palazzo pants have also been known to pop into my wardrobe from time to time, and when they aren’t swallowing my feet and petite stature, I’ve been known to immensely enjoy them.
- This piece is clean, simple and versatile–all things I look for in an investment piece. The romantic clay tones complement my skin, making it perfect for date night or a casual afternoon out with friends. It screams contemporary elegance, yet I can still comfortably wear it grocery shopping. And a bonus: I can get away with wearing it nearly year-round!
Conclusion: I’ll have it for years.
This is all not to say that I have everything figured out at the green age of 22. Rather, I’m excited how my own personal growth will change and influence the way I dress. If anything, the challenge of slow fashion is a commitment to attending to the intersection of personal growth and self-expression. Now that seems like a worthy practice to me.
Thanks to Naomi Andrews for the giggle and the solicited blogging advice.