Slow Fashion October 2017 - New

I have been trying over the last few years to reduce the amount of things, especially new things, that I buy. Living in Iceland, it’s not all that hard for me to forgo clothes shopping for months at a time, mainly because things are just so expensive here. On the other hand, given that Icelanders ranked 8th out of 37 countries in Europe in terms of volume consumption per capita last year, it’s safe to say that Icelanders love to shop, and it’s as difficult here as anywhere to avoid the idea that consumption equals happiness.

One of things I’m working on the hardest is to think more carefully about what I’m buying - not just where it came from, but whether I really need it in the first place. Where I can, I try to buy from sustainable brands, but the truth is, that’s not always easy or within my budget. For some of us, it’s difficult to avoid fast fashion entirely for exactly those reasons. The fact is that I still buy mass-produced clothing from time to time (usually on sale), though much less often and, more important, less overall. I limit purchases to items that I know will last and that I’ll wear for much longer than a season or two, and I use basically the same rules as I do for buying second-hand: I have to have space for it, it has to fit well, and it has to be well-made, no matter where I’m buying from. I don’t feel too bad about having a good few “fast-fashion” items in my closet that I’ve had for years and that still serve me well. I’d love to replace them with more sustainable options one day, but as long as they’re still wearable, I don’t see the need.

And that’s essentially what slow fashion means to me, I think - it’s not just about buying from sustainable brands or small-batch designers and makers or natural, ethically sourced materials - it’s also about critically assessing our needs and wants, buying less and making the things we already have last longer.

Since this week's Slow Fashion October prompt is where, I'll close with a few of my favourite slow fashion sources:

• I recently became obsessed with KowTow, a sustainable brand from New Zealand that's available here in Iceland at Org Reykjavik, a great source for sustainable clothing and accessories brands.
• Farmers Market is a favourite Icelandic slow fashion label, as is Doppelganger Collection.
• Aftur (which means again in Icelandic), makes innovative deconstructed designs from upcycled materials.
• I discovered Toronto brand Hoi Bo two summers ago and am still in love with the linen shift I bought from their Distillery District shop.
• For new fibre, I really only buy Icelandic wool - a local, natural and sustainable resource. Ístex is the biggest manufacturer (for where to buy online, check out my FAQ page), but there are several smaller brands by designers, spinners and dyers - among them Helene Magnusson, Einrúm and Hespa - that are definitely worth checking out.

Most of these are local to me, of course, but if you're inspired to spend less on clothes, you could use the savings to come visit Iceland and check them out for yourself ;)

Grannies CAL

I'm starting my very first crochet-along! I decided it would be fun to do a CAL for my Rove Handmade Volume 1: Grannies ebook, open to anyone who'd like to try one of the patterns. This is a pretty casual and relaxed CAL, designed to be low-key and stress-free. To join in, check out the Grannies CAL Info & Chat thread in the Rove Handmade Ravelry group here, pick a project from the ebook and introduce yourself.

The CAL runs from Oct 21 to Dec 2. Oh, and there will be prizes - more on that later.

I'm so looking forward to seeing your projects!

Slow Fashion October - Second-hand

I’ve always loved old clothes. As a teenager I used to regularly lift items from my parents’ closets - fitted blazers from my mom and beat up old work jeans from my dad. In my twenties, I could spend hours sifting through the racks of dusty attic vintage stores searching for that one great find. I still love the thrill of the find, and over the last couple of years I’ve begun to notice that many of my best-loved and most-worn pieces, are, in fact, second-hand - either thrifted or swapped or given to me by family and friends (the robe in the picture belonged to my grandmother and is probably my most cherished piece) - which makes me feel good for many reasons, not least because it’s one small way to extend the life of perfectly good items of clothing and keep them out of landfill for just a little while longer.

This week’s prompt for Slow Fashion October is how, so I thought I’d talk a little about how I incorporate second-hand into my wardrobe. As with buying new, one of the main issues for me is the sheer volume of things we consume and discard, and making an effort to reduce that consumption overall.

So my first rule is this: It has to fit into my closet and my life. I’ve bought many vintage items over the years that I wound up giving away because they just weren’t “me”, and as much as I loved looking at them, I never wore them. Now I’m much better at knowing what works for me and what doesn’t, and I look for things that suit my own style - classic, understated, neutral -  and that go with the pieces I already own. That doesn’t mean I can’t make space for something special, but it has to be wearable and fit into my existing wardrobe. I regularly reorganize my (very small) closet, which is a great way to take stock of existing items and identify holes.

Rule two: It has to fit. I know myself, and I know that if it doesn’t fit properly it will stay at the bottom of my closet waiting for the day I take it to a tailor - and that day will never come. If you’re someone who is great at altering or remaking clothes to fit you, that’s wonderful (and I do hope to get there one day when I have more free time), but if not, I don’t recommend buying something that doesn’t fit properly, no matter how cheap it is.

And finally, rule three: Quality. I look for good quality fabrics, particularly natural fibres like wool, that don’t show too many signs of wear. Replacing buttons or making small repairs on an otherwise great piece is no problem, but I avoid things that look especially worn out, faded or permanently stained - when I buy something I want it to last, regardless of whether or not it’s brand new.

Second-hand clothing is not without its downsides. For one thing, donating clothing often lulls us into a false sense of “doing good” with little thought as to where that clothing goes or what impact it might have beyond the donation centre. It is still, after all, a linear process. That said, buying second-hand prolongs that lifecycle, which is undoubtedly good thing, especially if it reduces our demand for new clothing and materials overall. And we all have to start somewhere.

Slow Fashion October 2017 - Handmade

It’s week two of Slow Fashion October, and this week’s prompt is what: What form slow fashion takes in our wardrobes, what we’re doing differently than before, and what we’re working towards. For me, these questions tie in perfectly with what I’d wanted to talk about this week anyway: handmade.

I’m a maker. Since childhood, I’ve found great joy in making something with my own two hands, and the excitement of taking an idea out of my head and into the real world never diminishes. Handmade has long been part of my life and my wardrobe, and for me, it’s what comes to mind first when I think of slow fashion - made by hand, slowly and intentionally and with care. The handmade items in my closet, especially the ones given to me by loved ones, have meaning and are worn and cherished far more and far longer than anything else I own. That said, I don’t sew my own clothes - my handmade pieces are mostly knits and, because I live in a country where it’s nearly always sweater weather, they get worn a lot, some repaired repeatedly.

But as I’ve begun to think more deeply about sustainability, I also can’t help but question some of my own assumptions and practices when it comes to making. I guess that’s the “what I’ve been doing differently” part - thinking more about materials, more about process, more about impact. The deeper you look, the more apparent it becomes that even the most well-intended choices can have far-reaching negative impacts and knock-on effects that are difficult, if not impossible, to fully comprehend. It’s almost paralyzing sometimes and lately, as my yarn stash and pile of samples continue to grow, I wonder whether I’m simply justifying a different kind of over-consumption. Sure, it’s handmade, but at the end of the day, it’s still just more stuff after all. And isn’t that the real problem?

As I try to build a handmade business, I find that I'm struggling to balance the goals of sustainability with the realities of commerce and living on an island where most things have to be shipped or flown in and out. What I’m working toward now is to try to be more conscious of the choices I can make and remember that small steps are better than no steps. For me that means using local, natural, sustainable yarns that aren’t overly processed, and sourcing other materials and supplies as responsibly as I can with the knowledge and resources I have today. I’m lucky to have access to amazing yarns that are grown and produced right here so that’s my starting point, but eventually I’d like to incorporate recycling in some way as well (I've been following Reunion Yarn on Instagram and am so inspired by what she’s doing). I’m also working to improve my design process (read: math), as well as other processes, so I can make fewer samples and reduce waste. Even more than slow, maybe what I'm really trying to work toward is just… less.

I understand that not everyone has the means or access to buy more sustainable materials or make their own clothes or even buy handmade - I know I can't (and don't) do all of that all of the time. For most of us it comes down to doing what you can, when you can. But one thing most of us participating in this conversation can do, regardless of income or socioeconomic status, is to consider not just what goes into our closets, but how much, and where and when we can, make it a little less.

Slow Fashion October 2017

I can’t believe it’s almost October! The summer, the year really, has flown by so fast. I’ve spent a lot of time this year thinking about sustainability - part of the reason I launched Rove Handmade was to explore how I could build something cohesive around making more thoughtful choices in my craft, and sharing that with others. So I’m excited to join in on Fringe Association’s Slow Fashion October this year.

The prompt posted on the Fringe Association blog today for the start of Slow Fashion October is who - who are we and who influenced us to think differently about our clothes. To answer, let me first make a brief introduction: I’m Maria and I’m a Canadian transplant to Iceland. I design crochet patterns mainly using Icelandic wool and I also work full-time for an apparel company. As for who influenced me, there are a few. First, Karen Templer and Fringe Association for sure - I have followed the Slow Fashion October series since 2015, and the stories and discussions around the topic of slow fashion have really helped the seeds of this idea take root in my mind. I've also been lucky to have these discussions with friends and coworkers (and working in apparel brings the topic into even sharper focus), one of whom co-owns a slow fashion knitwear label herself called Doppelganger Collection. But if I go back further, my mother and grandmother are probably bigger influences than I even realize: When I was young, my mom sewed clothes for herself and us kids (incidentally, that sewing machine is sitting in my parents’ basement, still in perfect working order after 40+ years), and my grandmother literally wore things out - repairing and repairing again rather than discarding.

To contribute to the discussion, there are a few topics I'd like to explore (and hope to keep up with weekly posts):

• Handmade - making by hand, wearing handmade, sustainability in craft

• Second-hand - why buy second-hand, where to look, what to look for

• New - overcoming consumer culture, sustainability, buying well on a budget

• Care - cleaning, mending, making things last

This is what I’m thinking about right now at least. I don’t have all the answers - in fact, I mostly have questions. There is so much to consider that it can feel like an overwhelming and impossible subject to tackle, but Slow Fashion October is a great opportunity to at least start to think about what sustainability and slow fashion mean to each of us, and how we can make positive changes in our own lives and wardrobes. Me, I have a long, long way to go, but I’m glad to have at least begun the journey.