The Poor Consumer

It’s currently New York Fashion Week, and I’ve irrationally developed the fear of a stranger in Lower Manhattan chasing me down with a mic and camera to ask the dreaded question of “what are you wearing?” In this not-so-unrealistic reality, I’m wearing a $7 Shein shirt, Forever 21 jeans, clearance-rack boots, and bronzed Urban Outfitters bangles. 

When the question of this impromptu journalist leaves their mouth, mine can’t find the words due to embarrassment over my shirt being made of 60% polyamide, 20% worker exploitation, 10% unfair wages, and another 10% of unsafe working conditions. 

It's shameful, really. Yet somehow, the fact that it’s cheap, compared to the designer crowd surrounding us, is more shameful than the reality of how it’s produced. 

It's easy to shame the consumer who funds the fast-fashion industry, right? But how could I—someone who can barely afford a quarter of my tuition—avoid shopping at companies such as Shein, Forever 21, or Rue 21 offering a $7 trendy top? Fast fashion is made more accessible and convenient for lower-income shoppers, rather than the sustainable alternative it replaced.

Thrifting doesn’t even feel like an option anymore. The current gentrification of thrift stores economically marginalizes the community it was once intended to serve. Second-hand clothing costs are now at their near-original price, due to its increasing popularity among the wealthier and eco-conscious consumer. 

Therefore, I’ll give you this: morality is a choice, yet it's only affordable to those who are privileged. And ethical shopping is simply a social capital unavailable to the lower consumer.  

Fashion, whether a conscious enjoyer or not, shapes identity. It’s a visual language of social class, validation, and, as shown, approval. Trends drive it; specifically, social media trends, which social media has amplified and accelerated the trend cycle, encouraging the overconsumption of clothing. It showcases the latest trends and pressures consumers to feel we need to keep up with its ever-growing pace. 

Fashion establishes this niche social belonging. In a way, we are conditioned to consume. (In the words of my friend Evan) It doesn’t matter if you have the real Isabel Marants or the Steve Maddens; regardless of class, we are all susceptible to trends. 

That is to say, it's fundamentally human to want to be involved. When we feel we don’t belong, there's a sense of shame ingrained within us. So, despite the increasing income inequality, the pressures to fit in make conformity to trends even more powerful.

Fast-fashion targets the low-income person, weaponizes its cost and its accessibility, which allows them to continuously refresh their wardrobes with items that were once exclusive to luxury brands. Luxury brands are a social stamp of wealth now made accessible to the lower-class consumer; the ability to fit in is now tangible. 

Regardless of its unethical methods, fast-fashion’s target market dulls its guilt into indifference until when confronted. Fast-fashion thrives because of social necessity and the pressures to fit in. It’s in the end systematic, and for us poor consumers, we’re once again its victim.

Kaniyah Swann