The devil wears Zara

As I was putting the clothes away, I noticed it.  I could see light through my trousers--the seat was frayed.

I rushed to the closet and checked the other two pairs that are for my daily wear.  One looked ok enough.  The other had the telltale signs of a frayed bottom.

Back in the old country, that is how we wore clothes--until they were frayed.  I remember my grandmother joking about one of those shorts that I had worn out: "துணிய கிழிக்க சந்துல ஆணி இருக்கா?" (Do you have nails in your butt to tear the cloth?)

If I am comfy in them, why toss them away, right?

But, unlike my childhood, I now have way more clothes than I could ever need. Work clothes. Casual clothes. Shirts. Tshirts. Sweaters. Fleece.

And I am not even trying to keep up with the fashion trends. Some of my clothes are more than a decade old!  One can easily imagine the nightmare if I even remotely kept pace with what is current!

The pace at which clothes go out of style should worry us.  Leave along the mental health of the fashion-conscious. (Did you look at any of the photos of iVanka when her ultra-stylish outfit malfunctioned?)  Fast fashion messes up the life of workers in the industry, and is also an environmental nightmare:

In “Fashionopolis,” Dana Thomas, a veteran style writer, convincingly connects our fast-fashion wardrobes to global economic and climate patterns and crises, rooting the current state of the fashion biosphere as a whole — production methods, labor practices and environmental impacts — in the history of the garment industry.

Instead of looking into such issues big and small, morons and their moronic leaders instead believe that population growth is the greatest threat to sustainability, and that abortion is therefore critical for controlling population growth in poorer countries!

The industry manipulates us, and we consumers eagerly and merrily respond:

Fashionopolis lays blame squarely at the industry's door. At no point does Thomas shame consumers. But she does ask us to change our ways. As a nation, she writes, Americans sent 14 million tons of clothing to landfills in 2018, while shopping at a feverish pace. This "fashion bulimia" is enabled by fast fashion companies. In turn, it encourages their social and environmental malpractice.

If this is what being "developed" means!

The problem looks to worsen than ever before. It is on an Amazon scale now.  I mean, literally.

Amazon introduced in June 2018 a gadget called Echo Look: a hands-free camera and artificial intelligence personal stylist, retailing for $199. It’s like having your own Mews sales assistant, but at home. Echo Look connects to Amazon’s virtual assistant, Alexa; takes full- length pictures or six-second videos of you in your clothes; and builds a library of looks, which you can sort by season, style, color, or dressiness. The Style Check feature compares images of you in different outfits— like those “Who Wore It Better” magazine features— and tells you, on the screen, with the side‑by‑side shots, what’s working, and what’s not, sans the snark. “Fit looks better.” “The shape of the outfit works better.” “Colors look better on you.”

With my height and build, and with a balding head and grey hair, and a face that can't ever smile, I know well that clothes don't make a man.  We are ugly, and we are proud!  Maybe I should consider moving to Germany

More on the Bangladesh factory catastrophe ... clothes cheaper than food!

In an earlier post, I noted the logic that if we as consumers want to pay nothing more than $14 a shirt, then it can happen only with the kind of conditions that led to the catastrophe in Bangladesh.  The New Yorker's James Surowiecki's point is the same:

The problem isn’t so much evil factory owners as a system that’s great at getting Western consumers what they want but leaves developing-world workers toiling in misery.

How much have American consumers benefited from textile manufacturing in countries that are desperate for economic growth and development that will bring in jobs?

U.S. consumers have become accustomed to spending relatively little on clothing compared with other items—and getting a lot for their money. Americans last year devoted just 3% of their annual spending to clothing and footwear, compared with around 7% in 1970 and about 13% in 1945, according to Commerce Department data.

The decreasing proportion of the annual spending doesn't mean we buy less clothes.  It is the other way around: we buy a lot more clothes than ever before but at remarkably low prices:

"Apparel prices are lower in absolute terms now than they were in the 1990s," says Dean Maki, an economist at Barclays

Compare this fashion expense with food:

Since 1990, clothing prices in the U.S. have risen just 10% compared with an 82% jump in food prices during the same period, according to Jessica Tenvose, an economist with the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, which compiles the Consumer Price Index. If adjusted for inflation, clothing prices would show a decline.

Our fickle sense of fashion, and an appetite for attire, means that the market works in overdrive to make that happen. That led to flexible manufacturing processes, writes Surowiecki:

Flexible supply chains are great for multinationals and consumers. But they erode already thin profit margins in developing-world factories and foster a pell-mell work environment in which getting the order out the door is the only thing that matters. Locke says, “Often, the only way factories can make the variety and quantity of goods that brands want at the price points they’re willing to pay is to squeeze the workers.” Suppliers in the garment industry rarely have contracts that last more than two seasons. “If you don’t deliver on time,” Locke says, “you don’t get the next order.” The problem is made worse by the fact that many of these factories are simply poorly run, with managers who generally have little training. This means that profits are smaller and there’s less money to pay workers or to invest in better conditions. And since in many developing countries, including Bangladesh, labor unions are frowned upon, there’s no one to speak up for workers in these factories. So safety becomes an afterthought at best.

Now, it is not that I want us American consumers to apologize and feel sorry for such trends.  Instead, as I noted in that post, if only we are willing to pay a few more cents per shirt, which can then go a long way to both pay higher wages and to enforce occupational safety.

In my post, I agreed with the following quote:

Real reform will mean paying a lot more than $14 for a shirt.

US and European retailers are working on responses to this crisis in their own ways, and I am sure soon they will work out a mutually agreeable set of conditions.  Meanwhile, the Bangaldesh government is also responding:

April's collapse of the eight-story Rana Plaza, one of the world's worst industrial accidents, has put pressure on Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina's government to address concerns about working conditions in Bangladesh. Ms. Hasina's administration said on Sunday that it planned to soon raise the minimum wage in the sector from $38 per month, about a quarter of China's wage. It closed 18 garment factories for safety violations last week and is planning broad inspections of other facilities.

And that is exactly what Surowiecki also had to say:

Even so, while there is much that companies can do themselves, the real lesson of the past two decades is that if labor standards are actually to improve government has to play a role. Private power alone won’t cut it: as long as consumers and companies insist on the lowest price and endless variety, there’ll always be factories that are willing to cut corners to get the business.

We have a long way to go.  But, in our haste to do something good, I hope we will not drive out the manufacturers from Bangladesh; that will be terribly counter-productive because as horrible as the situation is, it will be worse if these jobs didn't exist.  

Saira Banu, a seamstress from a factory in Rana Plaza who suffered broken ribs in the collapse, says she would like to quit. But Ms. Banu, who is in her 20s, says she doesn't want to return to a previous job as a housemaid, an informal position that isn't covered by a minimum wage and pays about $20 per month. "I'd like to find alternative work," she said. "But I don't know what I can do."

As my dissertation adviser once remarked in class, only the rich can afford to be unemployed.

Caption at the source:
Rozina Akter, a seamstress injured in the factory collapse, said she will go back to work as soon as she can, adding, 'Not all buildings will collapse.