Unless they have lived
under a rock for the last few years, most people would have heard something
about the production of clothes and the sometimes less than ideal
conditions under which they are made: in factories with safety issues where
workers slave long hours for a pittance. Though this may be the worst
scenario and there is a whole range of factory models, the rule of thumb
is: the cheaper a piece of garment, the less the chances that any of the
(slim) profits are going to the workers.
So far, so clear. Consumers are quite informed and a growing number
wants to know where the clothes they wear come from. And a recent
experiment with a vending machine dispensing 2-euro-t-shirts showed that
most consumers would not buy them if they would know the background story.
So, why do people still buy cheap clothes? The answer to that question
forced itself onto me, a fashion journalist who has been writing about RMG
production in so-called low-wage countries for more than two years, just a
few days ago.
I was out in a mall with friends, generally browsing a few shops, when
we entered a clothes store. Wanting to just accompany my friends, I entered
with the intention not to buy anything as a) my closet is full to the brim,
b) I am trying to cut down on consumption and c) I did not know the brand
whose store we were entering. My friends looked here, there and I browsed
around too, checking labels for production origin; a habit that seems to
come with the territory.
“Made in Bangladesh”‘. ‘Aha, one of those companies’, I thought. I
looked at another one. “Made in China”. Not bad. Contrary to popular
belief, China is not the cheap labor country that it once was but is
actually one of the few that has raised its wages on par, coming close to
paying living wages. Which is why buyers have been looking elsewhere to
produce their clothes. I continued browsing when it happened… Across the
store, my eyes fell on the most perfect blue-and-white striped hoodie – and
it was on sale!
A sweater for 7.50 euros?
My heart started beating faster as I made my way over to the rack. There
it was. I reached out to touch a sleeve and get a feel for the material.
Cotton. Nice and soft, not too thick. Perfect for a summer evening. I
picked the hoodie up by its hanger and checked the label for confirmation –
80 percent cotton, 20 percent polyester. Okay. And while I was at it, I saw
the price tag. 50 percent off! Bringing the price to a mere 7.50 euros. And
that’s when realization struck.
Sweatshop labor. Poor teenage girls probably slaved over this piece of
clothing, probably sewing parts of it together till late in the night to
support their families. All so that someone like me could fill their
closets with another piece of clothing they didn’t need. With a sigh, I
hung the hoodie back on the rack and walked away, looking for my friends.
They were busy in the beachwear section, looking at different brightly
colored bikinis. I walked over. “Found anything?” I asked. “Just looking”,
they replied. “You?” “I think so but I’m not sure. Want to see it?” They
nodded their heads, so we walked over to ‘my’ hoodie. There it was, still
looking extremely cute and comfortable in all its blue-and-white glory. “I
kind of like this”, I said, holding it up. “Nice”, said one of my friends.
“And cheap”, said the other, pointing to the price tag. “I know”, I sighed.
Then they spotted something else, walking away and leaving me alone with
the hoodie. ‘Maybe I should try it on’, I thought and had slipped it over
my head before I knew it. Ah, perfect, I knew it. Perfect feel, perfect
fit. Damn it. I quickly put it on the hanger again, put it back on the rack
and walked away.
Can’t buy sweatshop labor. Nuh-hu. I tried to remember something about
the brand but my mind was blank. I had not heard anything about this
particular one, a fairly new entrant to the market. Maybe the label would
give me a clue to the brand’s parent company? I checked and again, it did
not ring a bell. Plus points though for providing quite a bit of
information on the label. Unlike some companies that produce in Bangladesh,
Pakistan, India, Vietnam, Cambodia, you-name-it and don’t mention anything.
As if their garments just materialized out of thin air.
Okay, one last look. Maybe ‘my’ hoodie was not made in Bangladesh. I
searched for the label yet again. It was. I sighed, ready to walk away. But
then I changed my mind, grabbed the hanger and made a dash for the
check-out. “I’m taking it, just paying for it”, I shouted to my friends who
were by now ready to leave the store. “Okay, we’ll be at H&M”, they said. I
nodded. “Meet you there.”
Click Here: Putters
Nobody was at the check-out. I looked around. No one in sight. Giving me
time to ponder my purchase. But by now, I was determined. I was getting the
hoodie. Just then, a friendly sales person wished me a good day and rung up
the total. “That’ll be seven forty-nine”, she said. ‘Ridiculously cheap’, I
thought, handing over the money. She packed my hoodie into a plastic bag,
handed it to me and that’s when guilt struck – what had I done? I grabbed
the bag and rushed out of the store. Into the next fast fashion paradise to
meet my friends.
What can be learned from this episode? I think a whole lot because it
was interesting for me as a supposedly well informed fashion insider to
feel sucked into the same sales spin as a ‘regular’ consumer. Apparently,
no one is immune to purchase power. Psychologically, there is a lot to be
gained and marketers have been milking consumers’ weaknesses for ages. I
still do not quite know what made me change my mind (against better
jugdement) and buy that hoodie. Only that nothing seems to get in the way
of a woman in love with a garment, especially if it was love at first
sight.
The consumer dilemma
Should we beat ourselves over the head every time we buy cheap clothes?
Probably not. After all, if everyone stopped buying those clothes, those
would feel the impact first who need their jobs the most desperately – the
workers.
Should we seek out the best deals and let price be the only purchasing
criteria? Probably not. Buying clothes has become complicated, a tightrope
walk. After all, no other industry has seen their prices decrease (despite
inflation) in the last forty years.
What we can do is make informed decisions, research brands that we like
and that we don’t. Buy from the ones that we want to support and let them
know that we appreciate their efforts. That we, as consumers, want more
transparency and that we care who made our clothes and how they live with
their salaries.
After buying that hoodie, I went home, still feeling guilty, and read up
about the company. Yes, they produce in Bangladesh and some of their labels
were found when the Rana Plaza building collapsed that fateful April
morning in 2013. But they were also one of the first to sign the Bangladesh
Accord on Fire and Building Safety. And that made me feel better.
Photos: eflon / Takashi Hososhima / Bangladesh Alliance