Almost everywhere we read that fast fashion is bad, that you should invest in sustainable fashion. But what is fast fashion really? And what are the ways to truly be sustainable.

Fast fashion is a contemporary term used by fashion retailers to express that designs move from catwalk quickly to capture current fashion trends. Fast fashion clothing collections are based on the most recent fashion trends presented at Fashion Week in both the spring and the autumn of every year. Emphasis is on optimizing certain aspects of the supply chain for these trends to be designed and manufactured quickly and inexpensively to allow the mainstream consumer to buy current clothing styles at a lower price. This philosophy of quick manufacturing at an affordable price is used in large retailers.

This has developed from a product-driven concept based on a manufacturing model referred to as “quick response” developed in the U.S. in the 1980s and moved to a market-based model of “fast fashion” in the late 1990s and first part of the 21st century. Fast fashion has also become associated with disposable fashion because it has delivered designer product to a mass market at relatively low prices.

The sustainable fashion or conscious fashion movement has arisen in opposition to fast fashion, blaming it for pollution (both in the production of clothes and in the decay of synthetic fabrics), shoddy workmanship, and emphasizing very brief trends over classic style. “The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion was one of the first investigations into the human and environmental toll of fast fashion”. Fast fashion has also come under criticism for contributing to poor working conditions in developing countries.

Sustainable fashion doesn’t mean spending lots and lots of money on items, a lot of brands market themselves as sustainable, and those are comming with a higher price tagg. But is it really a hunderd percent sustainable? First of all, wat material is it made of? Is it a natural fibre, thats better for the envoirement and your skin? Where is it made, can you find any information on the factory? But the most important question: Am I really going to wear it? Can i wear this item for multiple occasions? Being conscious before you buy helps a lot, that doesn’t mean you need to create a whole capsule wardrobe with only 30 items max, just thinking about it before you buy it will help you save a lot of money.

If it’s not marketed as sustainable doesn’t mean it isn’t, doing a small research looking into the brand, knowing what materials will last long and knowing your style and not just falling into the endeless hole of trends.
Yes sustainable fashion is now ironically seen as a trend, even though trends are conected with fast fashion. You see it everywhere as marketing stategy, but something that should be kept in mind for forever.

MM6 Maison Margiela RTW Fall 2019

For its first presentation in Milan, MM6 Maison Margiela entirely covered its store on Via Spiga with a padded white fabric, cash register and phone included. It took four days to finish the project and the result was quite spectacular. The same pure, candid and cozy effect was obtained with the collection itself, which offered a compilation of fashion staples all filled with lighter or heavier padding and worked in an off-white tone. Showed on beautiful and elegant mature woman posing on platforms inside the store, they included cocoon puffers, oversize logo sweaters worn with matching pants, maxi shirts, tunic dresses with rounded edges, oversize knitted cardigans, plissé skirts and a denim-like cotton skirt. While most of the collection will hit stores, according to the regular seasonal schedule, a few items, including a padded T-shirt and the bag, were immediately available for purchase. The overall feel was hyper ironic, full and totally arty, as expected from the brand.


Martin Margiela did not invent the tabi, but he didn’t invent a lot of his best work. His skills lay in deconstructing established forms to manifest new ideas. For the tabi, he was referencing the Japanese worker’s shoe, which traces its lineage as far back as the 15th century. Tabi began as socks. The split-toe design was thought to promote balance through the separation of the big toe—a holistic reflexology strategy that promotes a clear mind. It’s also considered to be connected to your sense of self, and it just happened to fit the thonged sandals commonly worn at the time. At first, the socks were exclusive to the upper-class due to cotton scarcity, but when trading opened with China, they became more universally worn. The colors were also limited by class initially, with the upper-class wearing purple and gold, samurai all but those, and commoners exclusively blue. Around the 1900s, rubber soles were added on for outdoor activities, and these, called jika-tabi, are still worn as worker’s shoes today.

There are other modern fashion versions of the tabi in production right now. SOU-SOU, a Kyoto label founded in 2002, sells them in an endless array of patterns and colors at a fraction of the price of Margiela’s. Nike has their own sneaker version: the Air Rift. Vetements, the label designed by former Margiela employee Demna Gvasalia, sent their own down the runway last year. But none of those versions, nor any others, attract the attention of Margiela’s. Nor are any really comparable to the extent that you could call them an affordable dupe. The Margiela tabi have a collectible allure all their own. They are in-demand enough that people buy them off auction websites they use through Google Translate, often for hugely inflated prices long after certain colorways cease to be sold in stores. Why are we so obsessed with these glorified hooves?

Martin Margiela wanted a shoe that gave the illusion of a bare foot resting on a heel. The heel is chunky and high from the side but narrow from the front, and the leather was a traditionally masculine choice. The clasps that run up the inner part of the boots were references to the original design he pulled from—he had just come back from a trip to Japan when he designed his own. Prior to founding his own label in 1988, Margiela had worked for Jean Paul Gaultier, and before that had his own line of shoes. When it came time to create footwear for the first Maison Martin Margiela collection, though, no cobbler would take his tabi design on—the split toe was too radical for traditional workshops. As fate would have it, it was Geert Bruloot, the first retailer who stocked Margiela’s pre-Gaultier shoes at his Antwerp boutique Cocodrillo, who would introduce him to his future cobbler: an Italian craftsman named Mr. Zagato. According to Bruloot, he showed Mr. Zagato the tabi prototype over dinner, and the cobbler’s eyes lit up.

Those tabi were on the very first model Margiela sent out in his debut show in 1988. She walked through the Café de la Gare in Paris at 4:40 PM with ribbons on her cuffs, tabi on her feet, and no shirt on. Other models followed down the makeshift runway in flesh-colored mesh with tattoo illustrations in reference to French Polynesian artwork and chiffon veils paired with bright red toenails, some of them wearing no shoes at all. Margiela used the body as another fabric to play with and made absence as effective a design choice as the excess displayed by the dominant labels of that era. The finale culminated in what has since become legend: the models emerged in white lab coats identical to those Margiela’s team wore, with their shoes dipped in red paint, leaving strange, red markings on the runway—not quite footprints, not quite hoofprints. In one of his rare interviews on the subject—for an exhibition at Antwerp’s MoMu co-curated by Bruloot called “Foot Print: The Tracks of Shoes in Fashion”—Margiela explains this theatrical decision like so: “I thought the audience should notice the new footwear. And what would be more evident than its footprint?”



While her exoskeletons and crystalline structures have always felt far more visionary than the usual display of couture, their future as wearable designs seemed uncertain. By contrast, this collection, titled Shift Souls, expressed lightness through diaphanous silhouettes with hand-plissé volumes, soft patterning, and alluring body focus. This expression of femininity might translate to greater visibility for Van Herpen; and with two full days of shows to come, it set the bar high. “I see it not as one shift at a time so much as an evolution,” she said backstage, somewhat downplaying this significant leap. To close the show, light effects by artist Nick Verstand submerged the models in a deep blue vapor that canceled out the colors. But they definitely lingered on in the mind.