One year in college I decided that I would attempt to not purchase any “new” clothes for a whole year. The only clothing I limited myself to purchasing was second-hand clothing from thrift stores. The exception to this rule was underwear and socks because thrift stores don’t sell those and even if they did, that would be really gross. Anyway, the reasoning behind putting myself up to this challenge was because I was starting to become aware of everything it took to get a new garment on the clothing rack of a department store. It took land, water, chemicals, cheap labor, and a ridiculous amount of energy. On top of that, with my money going towards a huge clothing company with interests to only make more profits, I was essentially voting with my dollars to have these huge companies keep doing what they were doing. I didn’t want to do that anymore. I didn’t want to support unfair wages and working conditions, environmental negligence and destruction, and corporate greed. Instead I wanted to put my money towards thrift shops. Most of these storefronts make their money selling perfectly functional goods that people no longer find use for. That money goes towards employing people who need employment most. What’s more is that the fashionable threads that trickled down to the local thrift shop could be surprisingly unique, durable, and stylish. I went that whole year without getting any new clothes. I think the only new clothes I’ve purchased since the start of this was a fitted tuxedo for a wedding I was a part of. Even then, as nice as the suit was, I felt a little guilty that I had betrayed my own ethos. At this point, it’s impossible for me to ignore the unseen impacts I make with my money. Whether I’m buying gasoline, food, a new computer, or a new pair of shoes, nothing I do goes without my critical thought. Before I even knew the word, I guess I could say this is where my minimalism started.
