As Occupy Wall Street protests took place across the USA in May 2012, a group of protestors dressed in black were pictured swinging baseball bats at the windows of Seattle’s Nike Town Store. The graffiti behind said ‘Death to Capitalism’. Thirteen years earlier, similarly dressed protestors that were taking part in the anti-WTO ‘Battle for Seattle’ were filmed kicking in the front window of the NikeTown store. On both occasions, critics noted what they saw as an inappropriate fashion choice: ‘If you think Nike is the root of all evil’, you really should not be wearing their shoes’. said one account,
As more and more people take issue with the social, economic and environmental damage created by the global fashion industry, does it matter what we wear when we take action? If we want to create a more ethical, just and sustainable industry, shouldn’t we practice what we preach? Shouldn’t we investigate the provenance of every item of clothing that we’re thinking of buying, in order to make fully informed choices? Shouldn’t we buy fair trade, organic certified clothing whose farmers and factory workers (not to mention shipping, warehouse, shop and delivery workers) are paid a living wage? Shouldn’t we buy fewer new clothes and, instead refashion what we have, rent and buy second hand?
If we make informed individual choices like this, we’re voting with our money for the kind of world in which we would like to live. We’re narrowing the gap between our values and our actions. Anything less would be, at best, ‘ironic’ and, at worst, hypocritical. If you talk the talk, you should walk the walk. In appropriate footwear, of course.
This is a familiar argument in the more hardcore areas of ethical consumption. It’s one where you appeal to people to change their behaviour through blame, shame and guilt. The global fashion industry is in this terrible state because of all the terrible stuff that you have been buying. Making ‘the consumer’ responsible in this way is not a great idea if you want to see systemic change in the industry.
It’s not a blame game
First, if you try to blame, shame and guilt people into changing their behaviour then you risk them shutting down and disengaging. Second, if you have to make an informed decision about everything you buy, that’s a full-time job for anyone who refuses to trust what they find immediately online, maybe on a brand’s own website. Third, if you vote with your money for the kind of world you want to live in, then you might have a lot more or fewer votes than other people (depending on your wealth), which isn’t very democratic. Fourth, and finally, if you worry that you might be a hypocrite if you express your unhappiness with the globalised fashion industry while wearing some of its clothes, that means that only those who are fashion saints can be critics, everyone else is a sinner, i.e. all critics are likely to be hypocrites.
Is shopping better really all we can do?
Ethical and sustainable clothing shoppers find their own ways through this minefield, and it’s clear that their shopping behaviour has a powerful effect on the industry and many people who work in it. If the values and spending patterns of ‘the consumer’ change, brands have to respond. If more ethical and sustainable relationships between consumers and producers can be seen to work in practice, then arguments about what’s impossible or possible in the world of fashion have to change to fit the reality. But, is shopping all we can do, all we should be doing, our only superpower?
There’s an important story to tell here about the activism that emerged after the conditions under which Apple computers were made in China were exposed in the early 2010s. The most devout Apple consumers in advertising, the media and other creative industries could never imagine switching to a PC, whatever levels of exploitation, health and safety problems, and worker suicides came out in the news. Their work was so intimately tied to what they could do with Apple’s computers and their software. Instead, this fanbase said, more or less, ‘We love your computers, but we don’t like the way they are made. Change that for us so we can love them as much as we want to.’ This non-violent pro-IT activism, like Fashion Revolution’s non-violent pro-fashion activism, isn’t based on blame, shame and guilt. It’s based on enjoying aspects of commodity culture that are important to and using the powers we have to shape the worlds and lives from which we would like our stuff to come.
‘Dear Primark. Dear H&M. Dear Benetton. Dear Zara. Dear [insert any fashion brand here]. We love the way your clothes make us feel, but we don’t like the way that they are made, or how long they last. Please sort out what’s wrong in your supply chains. We expect more from you.’
Remember we’re not just consumers, we are citizens!
Let’s think about how we can use our powers to make the changes that we would like to see. We are not only people who buy clothes, but we are also ‘designers, academics, writers, business leaders, brands, retailers, marketers, producers, makers, workers, trade unions …’ and so much more. We’re citizens as well as consumers, and were all able to ask the question: Who made my clothes? We can direct this question to many different audiences who can help to make the changes we want to see. We can use basic democratic tools like writing to our elected political representatives, joining a public demonstration or signing a petition. We can use any creative skills we have to make awareness-raising films, zines, music videos and craftivist statements; to stage cheeky public stunts, bike rides, fashion shows, FashMob flash-mobs, film screenings and panel talks to keep the issues alive, to maintain their public profile, to keep them in the news cycle, to make social justice and sustainability activism positive, fun, engaging, thought-provoking. Because why not?! One way or another, anyone and everyone should be able to get involved, even if they’re wearing Nikes. Nobody’s perfect.
