fashion revolution, #haulternative, love story, ethical, ethical fashion, eco, eco fashion, vintage, toms sunglasses, paris
#GoneGreen2016 | Day 96 / 365

In the lead up to Fashion Revolution week, I read up on some of the materials they had sent out to bloggers for inspiration for our upcoming blogs and vlogs. Though I write about this subject daily, the idea with this week is to get the whole world to start thinking and try to inspire others to do their part in being the change they want to see in the world while shifting their closets from something based solely on consumption to something curated consciously.

I think we can all agree, that the most meaningful things in anyone's closet, jewellery box, or house decor for that matter are the items which come with a story. Preferably, that story is a 'Love Story', one on how you fell in love with the item and why.

Strangely, I've had a story set to post for a while on my favourite things from my dad's house in the UK, which he, in turn, inherited from my grandmother who used to travel the world (I'll post it now and link it in so you can see what I mean). I absolutely adore the textures and imperfections that each piece holds in his home and how they come together to create a grander tale of both my grandmother's life and his.

In my closet, the most meaningful pieces I have come from my mama, which as I've mentioned before were not necessarily 'passed down to me' ... but instead were items I desired and swiped from her, choosing the date of my inheritance like the little jerk that I can sometimes be. I am my mother's doppelganger, everything but our colouring is identical. When I look at her, I see myself and always have, but I've not always realized how deeply that truth flows. Beyond our external appearance, I am my mother's daughter and have come full circle in realising and happily embracing this fact.

My mother raised us to respect the earth and her inhabitants, teaching us about cultures beyond our own and inviting us to question the world as we saw it. The open, loving, and creative upbringing she bestowed upon my sisters and I, is exactly what makes me who I am. Nature and nurture combined in one lucky ass mess of female empowerment.

I always say it is by some magic in the stars that each one of us are brought to our mother's womb, to teach or be taught. I can't tell you how much I lucked out landing in my mama's body and how much she taught me, how much I've learned. My rebellion, much to her amusement, was to bleach my hair blonde, wear hot pink, become a cheerleader and start eating meat, specifically McDonalds cheeseburger (meals). Her little vegetarian, yogi, book-loving artist went haywire and did her darnedest to shut off all the consciousness she could for the worser worst.

I wasn't a jerk all the time, but I did focus on the wrong things and the loving being my mother was and still is, quietly waited until my soul began to stir again, making soft suggestions of books to read, songs to listen to, products to buy, and courses to take, until I had awoken enough to announce I had found myself again.

She never took credit or claimed to have created what I became, though she probably sleeps better at night knowing I live the lifestyle she taught me to love, that I didn't end up in some fancy house covered in blood diamonds, Louis Vuitton bags, and money.

That is what goes through my head when I pull on this crocheted cheesecloth shirt that my Auntie Patti made for my mama when she was herself a rebellious teen. It'll be the same story I think about when my daughter wears it 20 odd years from now and will always remind me of the idiosyncrasies and synchronicities of life. All this from a shirt, a piece of clothing that I use to cover my nakedness, something we see as meaningless and frivolous, but it doesn't have to be.

You alone decide whether you want to create these stories for yourself, your legacy, the objects that remind those who love you of you, because it belonged to you and lasted long enough to be passed on. This is why ethical investment pieces, like the ones I wrote about yesterday, are so important.

They're made to be loved, to tell a tale, to last lifetimes, to mean something from cradle-to-cradle. It's not empty of importance, or forgotten, or tossed away like every single thing you or I have ever purchased frivolously from a fast fashion company that cares not for you, this planet, the people who make the clothing, or your legacy. They care about profit, and that's it, full stop.

So try, with all your might, to ignore impulses, and to search for meaning in your wardrobe, as it will, in turn, bring more meaning to your life. Haunt your parent's closets, marketplaces, artisan creations, vintage stores and try to find something which tells a story you're proud to share, the world, its inhabitants and your own soul will thank you for it.

Much Love from me to yous (and my Mama) xx  

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