The Problem With Fast Fashion

There’s nothing quite like new clothes, is there? The UK certainly loves them. According to a report by the Environmental Audit Committee (EAC), the UK consumes five times more clothes today than it did in the 1980s. That’s more than any other nation in Europe and amounts to around

26.7 kg per person.This results in 235 million garments being dumped into landfills - victims of fast fashion.

Fast fashion is defined as “an accelerated fashion business model ”involving “increased numbers of new fashion collections every year,” “quick turnarounds(周转期)”and “lower prices,” according to the EAC. Globalization means that clothing is made in countries where labour is cheaper. These savings are passed on to consumers, who then consider the clothes they own disposable - easily replaceable with something more trendy. And that creates problems.

First, there’re the environmental costs. Manufacturing any kind of textile costs resources. For example, synthetic fibres, which are made from plastic, have a larger carbon footprint than natural ones. Natural fibres, although more carbon-efficient, still require more water to grow. And further resources are used as the cloth is dyed, made into clothing and transported to retail for sale. Secondly, the fast-fashion industry is under pressure to put the latest trending items on shelves faster, which can lead to workers being exploited and forced to labour in poor working conditions. In countries such as Bangladesh, Ethiopia and the Philippines, workers are paid wages that are insufficient to live on. One worker in Ethiopia told the BBC that they had to deal with intolerable conditions, such as withheld overtime payments, verbal abuse, and unsanitary toilets.

So what can be done in the UK to reduce clothing waste? The EAC has recommended eighteen improvements to the UK government, from increasing tax on purchases to fund recycling centres to introducing more sewing lessons in schools, encouraging a make do and mend attitude when things become worn out.

When I came back home, my mother was having a conversation with my seven-year-old daughter Jane. They were talking about how to fight against climate change in the holidays. I interrupted, saying we could do it by eating leftovers (剩菜) this holiday season. Mom and I both smiled.

I said, “You know Americans throw away 25 percent more trash between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day, including things like plastic from old tech and gift wrap. Food waste, which accounts for 30 to 40 percent of year-round waste entering landfills (垃圾填埋场), also rises sharply during the holidays. During Thanksgiving week alone, Americans throw out roughly 200 million pounds of turkey meat, along with 30 million pounds of gravy (肉汁) and 14 million pounds of dinner rolls.”

Jane was puzzled at the figures of food waste but she was interested in the consequences. I told her, “When thrown-away food makes its way to landfills and rots, it produces methane, a kind of greenhouse gas. That’s not friendly. It can destroy the ecosystem, threatening the survival of animals, plants and humans on the planet.”

Jane was nervous and asked what we could do to help the earth. “One of the most powerful tools we have is just to directly decrease our own waste in our home,” my mom said. “It’s also really challenging because most of our waste is happening in different ways. But individual action can also play a huge role in dealing with food waste, particularly in the US.”

I remember that in my family, there are two traditions when it comes to holiday meals: there must be more food on the table than everyone can eat, and everyone must take home a plate of food at the end of the meal to make sure all the hard work that went into its preparation wasn’t wasted.

Jane asked, “why prepare so much food for a holiday?”

Jane answered “Sure” and hoped to help Grandmother to prepare for dinners.

When I was eleven years old, I moved to Tampa, Florida. My parents traveled for a living, so Aunt Emily took care of me while they were away. One rainy morning, there was an old lady who was dressed in a bright orange coat carrying a rubbish bag and a stick. “What’s that old lady doing?” I asked Emily, pointing out of the window to the street in front of the house.

Hearing my question, Emily answered, “She’s picking up rubbish around here for fun.” “Oh,” I answered. “Interesting... Why would someone think picking up rubbish is fun?” For a long time, I often saw that old lady—rain or shine—on my way to school. In the beginning, I thought she was crazy to pick up rubbish. However, I finally smiled and waved at her each time I saw her.

Later, when I moved to college, I’d see rubbish in the grass and feel really angry about it. I’d think, “Why isn’t anyone picking up rubbish? People are so unconcerned!” But shortly after that, I said to myself, “Why do I think picking up rubbish is someone else’s duty?” And I couldn’t walk past trash without feeling guilty (内疚的).

So while walking in the college, I began picking up rubbish and made sure the campus was in better shape than I previously found it. My behavior influenced some students. They started to help me out.

Like me, they also picked up rubbish whenever they noticed it. And our college became more beautiful. Seeing that, I began to think, “If I can pick up rubbish outside the college—in other places of the town, it may make a big difference to the town.”

But picking up rubbish in front of many people outside the college needs courage. It could be embarrassing. But it was the right thing to do. I decided to try it.

So one day I called up all my courage and collected rubbish on a nearby street.

I thought if more students took part in the voluntary activity, things would be much better.