Ode to stompy boots, gone too soon
Have you ever accidentally fallen for a fast fashion item? An open thread.
It began, as so many doomed purchases do, in the checkout line.
We were shopping at a generic, trendy fast-fashion spot for kids’ clothes. Without knowing where to buy second hand here in Bologna, and with our kid looking increasingly goofy in his 24-month pants, we weren’t sure where else to turn. (Excuses, excuses.)
Displayed in the queue for idle shoppers like me were rows and rows of fabulous black boots. They had it all: real laces, a side zipper, a perfectly stompy sole, and a decorative anklet of pearls and chains. They were suspiciously cheap. I put them on the counter.
For months, they carried me to and from daycare, class, the train station, anywhere. It doesn’t snow too much here, and when it does, the snow doesn’t stick—but rain is another story. With wool socks layered underneath, they were perfect.
And then. April showers.
I stepped into a puddle for the hundredth time. Suddenly, my foot was wet—not just damp, but swimming and slogging and sloshing. The soles had cracked, almost simultaneously, on both feet.
Not to worry, I thought. I’ll dry them, glue them, and get a few more months out of them.
But it was not to be.
On a dry day, I put them on unrepaired, thinking all would be fine until that evening. I was walking with a friend when she cried, “Look out!” But it was too late.
Dog poop had infiltrated the damaged sole.
As I put my beloved boots into the trash this morning, I silently thanked them. It’s not their fault they weren’t designed to withstand normal wear and tear. It’s really, really not their fault that some monster (the owner, not the dog) chose to leave a pile on the sidewalk.
But if they hadn’t been broken, I would’ve hosed them off, disinfected the soles, and worn them for many seasons to come. If they were otherwise well-constructed, a trusted brand, I still may have braved it. I get a lot of satisfaction out of cleaning and repairing things. But I knew I would likely put myself out in a big way, just to have a zipper break or a sole peel away from the boot in a couple of weeks.
That’s why when I buy fast fashion—which I still occasionally do, for one reason or another—I imagine myself buying an actual piece of garbage, because I know that’s where it’ll end up. It won’t be worth restoring or repairing. It can’t be recycled. The colors will bleed; the zippers will split. It’s all, ultimately, destined for the landfill.
I’d like to say I’ll never do it again, but you never know. I could find myself on a tight budget again, needing boots for a cold, wet season, uncertain of where to shop secondhand.
I think this is where we need to start holding companies more accountable for their materials, their designs. Even cheap shoes should live an entire season without breaking in half. I don’t know how to do it, exactly, but I know it needs to be done.
Writing this made me think of the other fast fashion items I’ve fallen in love with and, subsequently, had my heart broken by. A faux-leather H&M jacket I bought on my honeymoon that’s now peeling like a sunburn. A dark green Zara dress I bought to wear on New Year’s in Amsterdam, 2019, that bled dye all over my arms. Nude patent Christian Siriano for Payless heels that I still cling to, but that I must retire before they give out and cause me bodily harm. (RIP Payless.)
All of these were purchased for specific occasions, and they were the best option for me at the time. And watching them disintegrate has made me feel sad, guilty, and frustrated.
So—which beloved fast-fashion items have quit on you before you were ready? Do you repair? Toss and move on? What did you learn, and have you found a solution? Let’s discuss.
P.S. Post and illustration inspired by
's "Ode to Clogs." If you're not reading ... why?
How about when you find fast fashion second hand! Sometimes, I'll think to myself- that's a really cute "going out" shirt! Only to find out that it's fashion nova with the tags on. Thrifting fast fashion, on one hand, seems like I'm not contributing to the problem. But then I imagine the person who bought $100 of product just to dump it at a second hand store, and that's sad too! All that to say, I'm a sucker for a fast fashion item at the thrift store...