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Like many fashion-loving young women on a budget, I went crazy over
Beijing's clothing markets. "You can bargain a pair of cargo pants down to $5?
Get a skirt for $3 and a scarf for just $1.50?" I had never before seen such an
enormous amount of inexpensive clothing.
Friends and I became regulars at the Silk Market, the original Wudaokou
Clothing Market and the Zoo Whole-sale Clothing Market. After my first year in
China, I had picked up enough new clothes and fashion accessories to fill two
huge suitcases.
Now, eight years later, only three pieces of clothing from the time are
still around - a winter coat, a sweater and a summer skirt. The rest have either
faded, torn, shrunk, stretched, fallen out of fashion or just became too
uncomfortable to wear.
In hindsight, I realized that I had bought impulsively, even taking clothes
that didn't zip properly because I liked their designs. I was swayed by low
prices and cared more about buying quantity than quality.
In 2012, according to data from the China National Garment Association, the
country produced 43.6 billion pieces of clothing. The world's biggest garment
exporter, with a third of the slice of the pie, China also sees mountains of
low-cost clothing enter the domestic market.
The flow of new, affordable designs can be irresistible to fashionistas,
but a big wardrobe isn't always better. I'm reminded of the primacy of quality
whenever I think about the oldest piece in my closet. It's a white eyelet blouse
from a designer's ready-to-wear line, which my mother picked out at a Manila
department store during my college freshman year. I balked at the price tag of
about $35, but 18 years and three countries later, I still wear it.
When I began reporting on sustainable lifestyles a couple of years ago, I
started to ask myself a few questions before buying new clothes. "Can you see
yourself in this outfit five to 10 years from now? Is it something that will
last? Will it go well with the things you already own?"
These are the same ideas behind having a "capsule wardrobe" - a collection
of a few essential pieces that can be mixed and matched, worn from day to night
and updated with key items. The concept became popular in the West in the
mid-1980s, following the release of American designer Donna Karan's "7 Easy
Pieces", which consisted of a bodysuit, skirt, blouse, coat, leggings, jacket
and dress.
The capsule wardrobe's emphasis is on having a small yet versatile clothing
collection, which will survive fashion trends and washing cycles.
Chinese consumers, who only rediscovered modern fashion following the
country's economic reforms three decades ago, want to buy more - not less.
People such as Wang Mingming, who have adopted capsule wardrobes in the face of
so much bargain clothing, are a rarity. In 2009, the resident of Ningbo,
Zhejiang province, simplified her wardrobe to seven sets of clothing per season.
She makes sure not to wear an outfit twice in the same week and uses shoes and
bags to freshen her look, but the 32-year-old has basically been wearing a
handful of items again and again for years. The oldest piece she owns dates back
to 2001.
Wang's decision has not only helped her put together a quality wardrobe,
but it has also improved her quality of life. She wanted to devote more energy
to exercising, reading and relaxing, and not having to keep up with fashion
trends has freed up her time and money.
Inspired by such stories, I've toyed with the idea of also living on a
capsule wardrobe. If I were to have only "7 Easy Pieces", then I'd have to get
rid of 150 garments. Since I've now gone for seven months without buying any new
clothes, I'm confident this goal will be within reach in this lifetime.
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发表于 2016-7-10 18:06:42