My idea of (sustainable) fashion

I'm a journalist. More a words person than a numbers person. But some numbers tell stories that can't be argued away:

According to current figures from the UN Environment Programme, the textile industry is responsible for an estimated 2 to 8 per cent of global greenhouse gas emissions. At the same time, the share of textiles that are actually recycled into new textiles is still under one per cent. More than 80 per cent of the world's textile waste is incinerated, landfilled or otherwise lost.

In the EU alone, around 12.6 million tonnes of textile waste are generated every year. Clothing and footwear account for about 5.2 million tonnes of that.

And globally, so many garments are still thrown away that the Ellen MacArthur Foundation describes the volume as a truckload per second.

So while we are still debating how much change is really needed, the carousel keeps turning. Fast fashion became ultra fast fashion. Collections became drops. Seasons became a permanent stream of new product.

Faster. Cheaper. More. And yet the answer could be surprisingly simple: Slow down. Choose better. Love longer.

I still love fashion. Perhaps more than before. I love design. Cuts. Materials. Craft. That particular intelligence of a garment in which proportion, fabric and construction suddenly fit together exactly. I love the stories behind designers and brands. And that wonderful possibility of saying something about ourselves through what we wear, without a single word. I just go about it differently now.

People often ask whether I still buy fashion. Of course I do. And that despite having more clothes in my wardrobe than I could wear out in a lifetime. This isn't about going without (fashion is far too much fun for that). It's about a change of mind. Not as a corset but, in the long run, as an enrichment. I buy less and choose more carefully. And precisely because of that, I enjoy my pieces more, for longer.

What interests me more now is who made something. How it came about. Which materials were used. And whether I really want to wear it for a long time.

Quality over quantity.<br>Slow over fast.<br>Favourite pieces over throwaway trends.<br>Owner-run over interchangeable.<br>A story over randomness.<br>Appreciation over wear and tear.

There is a whole string of terms for this by now: sustainable fashion. Green fashion. Ethical fashion. Conscious fashion. Slow fashion. You name it. I'm not especially fond of any of them.

Which is why I spent a long time looking for a term that describes these brands and their collections better. And now I've found it: mission-driven. My thanks to the two ledge founders, Vali and Zachi, for letting me call off the search.

Because behind these brands are people. Designers, founders, producers. People who stand behind what they bring to market with their name, their idea and, often, a great deal of personal investment. They know where it is produced. Which materials are used. Who works on their products. And above all, they know why they want to do things differently.

Many of them know the conventional fashion circus intimately. They have worked for big companies, seen the production chains, sat through the decisions and understood what happens when a system thinks mainly in one direction: growth through ever more goods. So they decided to go another way.

With smaller runs. With made-to-order. With local producers. With better materials. With traditional craft. With new manufacturing methods. With repair, take-back, recycling or circular concepts.

Not every one of these brands gets everything right. My claim? 70 per cent is the new perfect. Perfection isn't the point anyway. The point is that someone takes responsibility for their own decisions. And that is exactly what interests me.

Because it feels remarkably good to wear a garment and know something about it.

To know who is behind it.<br>To know what you're wearing against your skin.<br>To know where and how it was made.

To know that the people along the textile chain were treated with respect.

For me, that is what luxury means today: owning things that mean something to us. Not ever more. The right ones. Things we like wearing. Wear often. Wear for years. Care for, repair and perhaps one day pass on.

None of this is about going without. On the contrary. I want to enjoy fashion. I just no longer want to have to have everything. I want to choose.

70 per cent is the new perfect.

Perhaps that is exactly the change I've lived through over the past ten years. My job used to be knowing as early as possible what was coming next. What interests me far more today is what can stay. Which is why I devote a large part of my work to the very people and brands developing alternatives to more-and-more: as a journalist and publisher, as a host and speaker, as a consultant and connector, and today also as Editor in Chief and in brand partnerships at ledge.

Because there are alternatives to the obvious. We just have to discover them. And pass them on. More and more of these founder-led, mission-driven brands can be found on ledge.eu. Not because they are all the same. Precisely because they aren't.

And so today I hold with Vivienne Westwood: Buy less. Choose well. Make it last. Because only true favourites have the power to bring us joy for years.

That's my kind of fashion.