Et tu, Sweatpants? - 10/14/10

Here at Middlebury, we pride ourselves on our quest for carbon neutrality, our compost piles, our organic garden and overall awareness and attentiveness to the importance of environmental sustainability. We petition for change, we protest abuse and we try to set a good example in the way we live and interact with our limited resources. But what in the name of electric cars and solar energy does any of this have to do with fashion?! EVERTHING. Okay… I exaggerate, but still.

The way I look at it, “Stylistic Sustainability” can be broken up into two categories — Material and Historical. On one end you have the material — clothes made out of recycled textiles, hemp and natural fibers — clothes whose production doesn’t exhaust resources or pollute the local environment. This extends beyond the basic makeup of the textiles and into the structure and practices of the companies themselves. Now I’m not saying you have to research the environmental responsibility of every company you purchase a piece of clothing from, but if you are a consistent patron of specific stores, look into it. For all you know your clothing is being made by seven-year-old orphans with TB who get a dollar every six months, or perhaps your favorite designer is the leading killer of rabbits in Eastern Europe.

So clearly I’m hyperbolizing here, but you get my drift. If we’ve learned anything from this wonderful liberal arts education, it’s that we need to be aware of our consumption.

Now here comes the fun part: historical sustainability, or clothes that were made before (or shortly after) you were born. It’s my belief that any item of clothing that has been in circulation for over fifteen years is fair game on the green front; thrift stores, vintage boutiques and the “take it or leave it” at the dump are treasure troves of forgotten beauty. Often times thrift store chains also contribute a portion, or all, of their proceeds to charities: Second Time Around in Burlington donates to breast cancer research and Planet Aid in Boston helps provide medical supplies for those with HIV/AIDS in Africa. So not only can you be green by buying old, but you can also make a small social difference as well.

Now clearly this isn’t the case in those pricey high-end vintage stores on Melrose or in SoHo, who sell sequined Vivienne Westwood dresses and 1960’s Chanel blazers for hundreds upon hundreds of dollars — but you can still be a conscientious consumer, especially when it comes to our little furry woodland critter friends. Now I may get some backlash for this but my motto with fur is that if it died before I was born, and is being sold by an independent shop owner, and not a corporate affiliate — it’s recycling. Product testing on animals, the destruction of wildlife habitats for logging and urbanization, the pollution of our air and water, climate change, over-hunting and -fishing; these are all problems that threaten our environmental stability and morality far more than a single leather jacket — and while I don’t like supporting the contemporary killing of animals for clothing, I also don’t agree with the way our farm animals are pumped growth hormones and kept in cages all their lives. There are bigger issues at hand, so let’s try and keep that red paint at bay. Your grandmother’s fur coat will appreciate it.

Moral of the story? Almost everything comes back in fashion eventually, so buy old or consume current styles with critical awareness.

Mary-Caitlin Hentz ’10.5 from Dover, MA.