Why that "wash before wear" tag isn't just about hygiene.
Hey Reader,
You thought I was going to talk about plastic again, didn't you?
Sorry, I got distracted by your addiction to fast fashion. Or as you call it, "retail therapy." Because nothing says "I'm over my ex" like a $5 shirt that unravels faster than your last relationship.
You probably think it's a harmless little habit. You'd be wrong.
Your Jeans Have a Drinking Problem
Let's talk about those jeans you bought because they were a steal at "only $30." You're practically losing money if you don't buy them, which is definitely how math works. They're called a steal because when you hold them up to the light you can see through them like a dryer sheet.
Here's what nobody tells you: that one pair of jeans took 2,000 gallons of water to make. That $5 cotton tee? Another 700 gallons.
That's enough water to keep you alive for four years. Meanwhile, you're carrying around a 40-ounce Stanley like it's a fashion accessory. Spoiler: your outfit is thirstier than your #OOTD posts.
But wait, there's more! (I know how much you love a BOGO special.)
The Real Cost of That $5 Temu Shirt
"Fast fashion" emerged in the 1990s when brands like Zara could deliver runway trends to stores in just 15 days. I've watched you let laundry pile up longer than it takes these factories to create an entire Fall Collection.
Textile jobs were shipped to Asia for cheap labor that could avoid environmental and safety restrictions. Because nothing says 'problem solved' like making it someone else's. More than 60,000 factories sprang up to meet global demand, dumping 10 million tons of toxic wastewater every single day into rivers like the Ganges, where millions bathe for spiritual purification.
I got nothing funny to say about that. Just sit with it for a second.
Mother Nature, that's terrible! But we'd never let that happen here.
Yeah, about that. Those same chemicals are in your clothes. They're what create those vibrant shades. Rivers literally change color with fashion trends: spring pastels in March, summer neons in June.
Which is why washing new clothes before wearing them isn't just about hygiene. It's hazmat protocol.
But do you trust one spin cycle to remove all the lead, arsenic, and "forever chemicals" before they leach into your skin? That's the gamble you take for cheap fashion.
Phew! That got heavy. Let's move onto something lighter....
Your Threadbare Logic
What is your obsession with looking like a ranch hand in perfectly distressed jeans? You're literally buying them pre-damaged. That's like paying extra for a cracked iPhone screen and calling it vintage.
I know what you're thinking. Mother Nature's giving us the side eye for buying jeans that are already halfway to falling apart. That's a given.
But, those jeans don't rip themselves. Workers blast them with sand until they look worn out. The process is so dangerous it's been banned in Europe since 1966. Meanwhile, in Southeast Asia, someone gets paid $3 a day to operate a sandblaster so teenagers can look tough.
"These jeans have been through a lot." Yeah, they have. So have the children who made them.
Dang it. I went dark again. This is why Old Faithful is my therapist.
The Great Goodwill Guilt Trip
But wait, Mother Nature. At least I don't throw away my clothes. I donate them to charity for a second life. I'm practically a philanthropist!
Your stretched-out gym shorts with the elastic hanging limp and that shirt with the gravy stain are not the treasure you think they are.
About 85% of donated clothing ends up in landfills. Goodwill isn't a magical wardrobe portal. It's not Narnia. It's a sorting warehouse running a business, not a rehabilitation center for your fashion mistakes.
Here's what actually happens to your "donations":
- 10–15% gets sold (the stuff that's actually wearable)
- The rest gets shipped overseas or goes straight to the landfill
Stop thinking that donating your old clothes makes your next shopping spree carbon neutral.
The Bottom Line
Look, nobody's asking you to wear the same outfit for 20 years. Even Steve Jobs had more than one black turtleneck.
But be intentional about what you buy. Check where your clothes are made and ask whether they spark joy before you swipe your credit card, not just when you're cleaning out your closet.
Quality costs more upfront, but fast fashion gets expensive when you keep replacing shirts that disintegrate in the wash. It's like buying cheap toilet paper. You think it's a great deal until it falls apart and you're left with crap on your hands.
Make sustainability your new status symbol. And next time you need retail therapy, maybe try ice cream. Or yoga. But call a friend before giving yourself bangs. That's a cry for help.
Progress, not perfection.
Mother Nature
Ready for more practical fashion advice? Click here.
P.S. Next week: Why your grandmother's toaster still works but your two-year-old blender doesn't. It's not magic, it's math.
P.P.S. Missed Week Two? Don't worry, we recycle. You can find it here.
Know someone who bought 47 items on Temu because they were "unlocking more savings"? Forward this.
Know someone who bought three black cardigans on sale? Expect one for Christmas.
