THE COST OF WHAT WE WEAR | KAIROS GLOBAL | NOVEMBER 2026

Author: Shayna DSouza

Audio

Intro: Shayna DSouza asks us to be mindful about what we choose to have in our wardrobe.

What We Don't See  

We rarely think about who made our clothes. We think about what it matches with, what it looks like, and whether it's worth the money. We look at ourselves in the mirror before leaving the house and, for those few seconds, it becomes ours. A part of what we present to the world.  But before it came to us, it had a life of its own.  

Someone made it, and many others handled it. Someone sat at a sewing machine and put it together. Water was used to dye it. It travelled by truck and ship before sitting in a warehouse somewhere. When it reaches a shop, or our doorstep, almost all of that has disappeared, and all we see is the finished product. And perhaps that is the fashion issue nowadays. We have become very good at perceiving the clothes, but not everything behind them.  

Fashion itself is not an issue; there is nothing wrong with wanting to look nice.  Clothes can be expressions; they can hold memories, culture and identity. The dress that came from our grandmother holds far more value than an entire new wardrobe. Dressing can be playful, a way to convey something about ourselves to the world, without a word. The problem arises when fashion becomes something we are constantly consuming.  

Fast fashion makes this easy; there is always something new. Another collection, another 'must-have'. Something that was everywhere on Instagram last month is now old. Clothing has become so cheap and accessible that we might not think twice about buying something new. We see a top for ₹799 ($8) and think, why not?  

That question is worth considering. Why not? Because ₹799 is most likely not the true cost of a garment; it is simply the price assigned. The remainder is hidden, perhaps in others' earnings, dangerous work conditions, water use and pollution along the way. And sometimes, it is not even meant to last. 

The People Behind The Clothes  

The collapse of the Rana Plaza building in Bangladesh in 2013 is an extreme and horrifying example of the invisibility of those who make our clothes. Over a thousand garment workers lost their lives. They were not an abstract part of the system; they were people. They lived, had families of their own and did not just work in that building.  

Catholic social teaching reminds us that the person making our clothes has the same dignity as the person wearing them. Their work should accord them dignity, not make them pay the ultimate price so a random person can buy something slightly cheaper. It makes the question of what we buy more difficult. At the same time, it is easy to turn this into a story about irresponsible consumers. We should all stop buying fast fashion, shop only from ethical brands, and become perfectly sustainable. Real life is never that simple.  Ethical clothing can be expensive; not everyone can afford to make every choice based on an ideal checklist. Sometimes fast fashion is all some people can afford, or need. Sometimes they need the things now, and sometimes, we simply make a bad choice.  

We cannot answer bad choices with guilt, however. It has to be awareness.  

Where Our Clothes Go  

This also includes looking at what happens to our clothes after we are finished with them. We often think getting rid of something ends its life. It is not; the garment still exists, and it needs to go somewhere. Before it gets there, it could potentially have already harmed the environment.  

Much modern clothing is made of synthetic, or plastic, fibres such as polyester and nylon. When washed, these can release tiny fibres into the water, which eventually find their way into rivers and oceans. It is strange to think about.  Something we bought and wore because it looked good on us could eventually become part of a much larger issue we will most likely never witness.  

When Sustainability Becomes a Trend  

We have started to see words such as 'conscious', 'eco-friendly' and 'recycled' everywhere. Sometimes meaningful, sometimes not. Fashion has become very good at making sustainability look beautiful.  

A green label, a recycled fabric, a campaign in nature. But a garment does not simply become ethical because it comes in a recycled package. We have to look closer. Who made it, what was it made from, how long will it last, and how often will we actually wear it? And the most uncomfortable question of all – did we actually need it?  

That last question is worth considering, because even sustainable consumption is still consumption.  

The Question of Thrifting  

Thrifting has become a popular answer to fast fashion, and for good reason.  Buying second-hand can give an existing garment a new home, instead of demanding a new one. But even thrifting can become a form of overconsumption. If we buy twenty second-hand dresses simply because they are cheap, we have not questioned our habits. We have only changed our shopping area. The point is not to find the perfect way to consume. Perhaps the point is to consume, less thoughtlessly. Wear the shirt again, repair the jeans. Keep the dress, even if it is no longer trending. Borrow something for one night, instead of buying. Pass clothes on to someone who will actually use them. And sometimes, close the website.  

Why Do We Feel the Need For So Much?  

We live in a time where we are constantly being told to become someone new. A new aesthetic, a new wardrobe, a new version of ourselves. Social media makes it especially difficult; we see people wearing something different every day and somehow feel we should be doing the same. An outfit can be worn once, photographed, posted and forgotten. The pressure to constantly keep up has become so normalised that we hardly even notice it. However, a much deeper question lies beneath it all: Why do we feel the need for so much?  

Catholicism has never taught that beauty is wrong, or that enjoying material things is a sin. But it has asked us to question our relationship with them. There is a difference between enjoying something and needing it to feel worthy. Our clothes can say something about us. They should not dictate what we are worth. Because there will always be someone with a better outfit, more money, wearing the thing we just spent weeks wanting. If our happiness depends on keeping up, we will never actually catch up. And perhaps that's where the idea of enough comes in.  

Enough is not a very fashionable word. We live in a culture built on wanting more – more choices, more clothes, more sales, more newness. The fashion industry has convinced us that what we have is not enough. Catholic life encourages us to fight that instinct. Not because having things is bad, but because things can quietly start to have us.  

Learning to Value What We Have  

There is also something deeply human about caring for what we have.  Repairing a garment instead of throwing it away says it is still valuable. Wearing something for years points to its worth beyond a trend. Giving clothing to someone else allows its story to continue.  

These choices are small and will not fix the fashion industry on its own. But ethics rarely begins with fixing everything. It begins with noticing: the worker behind the garment; the water behind the fabric; the plastic that remains after we’ve forgotten the outfit; how easily we buy, simply because it is there. Noticing the difference between wanting something and actually needing it. And perhaps, most importantly, noticing the difference between being a consumer and being a steward. 

From Consumer to Steward  

The word stewardship has a certain weight in Catholicism. It is not solely ours to do with what we have. Creation and lives are entrusted to us. Our choices exist within a much bigger mesh of responsibility. But that does not mean we need to stop loving fashion. Perhaps the idea is to love it more carefully, with intent.  

Buy what we will actually wear; use what still has life in it. Think about the person who made it, question the brands that ask us to constantly want more. And when we can, choose the option that causes a little less harm. 

Look Again  

Next time we stand before a wardrobe full of clothes and think we have nothing to wear, perhaps we could pause for a moment. Look again. There are stories hanging in that wardrobe: money, labour, resources, memories. There is far more than we think. And perhaps the most ethical thing we can ask ourselves is not, ‘What should I buy next?’  

But rather: What do I already have, and how can I learn to value it?

Shayna DSouza is pursuing a Fashion Communication degree from Pearl Academy, Mumbai, India. She is passionate about writing on issues pertaining to fashion.