The industry’s new favorite buzzword might give us insight into its changing tides.
We've all heard it — "fast fashion discourse." While it's not uncommon to have a few fast fashion pieces in your wardrobe — the odd H&M purchase here and there — the rise of Shein and Temu, and the online gamification of clothes shopping, have made the truth inescapable: fast fashion is bad. It's bad for the people who make it, it's bad for the planet, and it’s bad for our consciences.
Moreover, it's often simply bad clothing. Fabrics are flimsy and fall apart in the wash; the garment you receive bears little resemblance to the picture that inspired you to order it. The price is low enough that the manufacturers count on the consumer to decide it's not worth it to seek a return — and they're often right.
Of course, as this becomes ever more common knowledge, people will begin looking for alternatives. And what's the opposite of fast fashion? Well, slow fashion, of course!
In theory, slow fashion should mean something highly specific: clothing made carefully, consciously, and to last. While it doesn't have to be generic-looking, it shouldn't play into TikTok-inspired microtrends — and instead should be something that can be repurposed into multiple looks or even across the seasons. A slow fashion garment should be one that you plan on keeping for years or even decades.
But in practice, "slow fashion" has become a label to slap on anything that wants to define itself as "not fast fashion." There is no specific definition of "slow fashion," and therefore, no standards to meet. This can have tricky consequences, especially as "fast fashion" and "cheap fashion" have grown to be nearly synonymous.
The idea that expensive fashion equals slow fashion means that the recent Wall Street Journal expose — which revealed that four-figure handbags from Dior and Armani are made by workers for as little as €53 ($57 USD) a piece — has thoughtful consumers in a bind. Comparing a Dior handbag to a plastic crop top from Shein is ludicrous on many levels, but you can't say that the latter is "fast fashion" and therefore "bad," while the former is "slow fashion" and therefore "good."
Moreover, sustainable fashion doesn't necessarily mean that the clothing is expensive. British brand Yes Friends, which specializes in ethically produced organic cotton basics, has pieces starting at £12 ($15.57 USD), comparable to many inexpensive brands. New Zealand-based Joyya, which specializes in made-to-order pieces sustainably and ethically produced in India, has custom items for under £10 ($12.97 USD) per piece, comparable to some of the most infamous fast fashion labels.
Some attempts to set a standard have been made; a look at Good On You, a website dedicated to enabling more ethical and conscious consumption of fashion, will show detailed rankings and explanations for over 1,000 different brands. But Good On You uses what a brand doesn't do, as much as what it does, to define its rankings. Brands lose points if they don't make public disclosures on their efforts to be more sustainable, whether or not they're actually making those efforts, leading to an uncomfortable equating of branding with action.
Moreover, the use of "slow fashion" as a branding technique can obscure the most sustainable and ethical option out there: the clothing that already exists. Encouraging customers to buy more clothing because it's ethically or sustainably made implies that the clothing people already own is insufficient, even though the average person owns more garments now than at any other time in history. The idea that "outfit repeater" could be used as an insult would, through most of human history, be as bizarre as the idea that it was tacky to "reuse" your car or refrigerator.
Further, the rise in large wardrobes and the trend for disposing of clothing after a single season means that the world is full of used clothing. While reselling platforms like Depop have made thrifting trendy and, in the eyes of some, more difficult and less affordable, the fact remains that, with a bit of patience, finding preowned versions of almost any garment or accessory imaginable at a lower-than-retail price is possible.
Perhaps it's that first part, "with a bit of patience," that we should bear in mind when we seek to define slow fashion. The culture of microtrends, next-day shipping, and shopping brands around the world from the comfort of home has created an expectation of speed when it comes to fashion. Fast fashion, like fast food, is not only meant to be consumed quickly — it's meant to be delivered near-instantly. It is, perhaps this expectation that needs to be challenged to create a true culture of slow fashion.
Building a wardrobe of quality pieces that suit your personal style takes time, especially if you're on a budget. You may not have as many pieces in it as in a fast-fashion-forward wardrobe, and you may find yourself stalking a particular item for months or even years before acquiring it. No brand will ever promote this, in all likelihood —it's bad for business, pretty much by design. But it's good for the Earth, and for our wallets, so let's take our time. 🌀
Dr. Ellery Gillian Weil is a writer, historian, cute-animal-video enthusiast, and antique jewelry aficionado. She hails from the suburbs of Washington, D.C., but currently resides in London, England, where, in 2023, she earned her PhD in History from University College London. You can find her on Instagram on @elleryw72.