Scrolling through my Instagram feed, I’m met with a barrage of neutral palette outfits. Beige, brown, sage green, white — all set against a backdrop of home decor that is equally as organic and minimal.

These plain shades often make up “capsule wardrobes,” which are closets that boast a limited number of interchangeable clothing items that all go together. This aims to maximize the number of outfits one can make without having to buy an excessive amount of pieces, thus cutting down on overconsumption and waste that is rampant in the clothing industry.

You’d think these smaller wardrobes are more affordable, since they feature fewer pieces, and some of them are.

But not all.

Many of these capsule wardrobes feature high-end pieces from expensive sustainable retailers: Reformation, Lacausa, Jenni Kayne, to name a few. The reasoning is that these clothing items are often higher quality than fast fashion alternatives, thus making them better suited for the frequent use they would see in a capsule.

With these neutral-toned pieces dominating Instagram feeds, and influencers perpetuating the ideal image of a simple, minimal, sustainable lifestyle — is it really that simple?

Listen, I love the planet. But do I love it enough to spend $200 on a “sustainable” blouse from a high-end slow fashion retailer? 

Probably not. 

I’d love to, but I can’t afford it. I’m not ragging on the aesthetic itself, mind you, but rather what it costs. Surely there are alternative, less spoken about lifestyle changes we can all make to enjoy life sustainably?

These days, the conversation isn’t as easy as fast fashion versus sustainable fashion. There is slow fashion, ethical fashion and companies that offer made-to-order pieces. These aren’t mutually exclusive labels, either.

A retailer can be one, a combination of two, or all of the above.

Some of the most popular fashion retailers — Forever 21, H&M, Princess Polly and even local boutiques — obtain their clothing items from unethical factories that force their workers into long hours for very little pay.

These factories churn out clothing with no mind paid to what the actual needs of the customer are. A store will order a set amount of these pieces, and eat the costs of whatever doesn’t sell — slashing the prices of old clothing or discarding them entirely.

Fast fashion garnered backlash in the last few years for these practices. Some companies sought to alter the course of their production entirely as a result — like Zara, which committed to switch to 100% sustainable fabrics by 2025. But more commonly, newer self-proclaimed “sustainable” companies rose to prominence in the place of canceled brands.

The aforementioned retailers — Reformation, Lacausa and Jenni Kayne — are just a select few examples. In addition to paying their garment workers a fair wage and creating a safe working environment, these companies have also attempted to slow down the rate of production: fewer styles emerge each season and are made available to consumers for longer periods of time, therefore leading to less consumption.

But this inevitably leads to higher pricing.

Whereas fast fashion can churn out an unethically made top for maybe $10 to $20, Reformation’s cheapest top — a simple T-shirt — sells for around $30. You’re hard-pressed to find a dress for under $150, and the newer releases can cost around $200 to $300.

The problem isn’t the price. Workers should be paid a fair wage, period. What I take issue with is the fact that this practice of buying sustainably has become the new “ideal” for the sustainability movement, even though its price tag is only accessible to the elite few.

Not to mention, there is a whole other side to living sustainably that is hardly discussed. How often are people actually keeping these expensive items of clothing? And how much are they actually buying?

Look up “sustainable haul” on YouTube, and you’ll find results from influencers who purchased thousands of dollars worth of ethically made clothing items.

Overconsumption isn’t cute, and it isn’t sustainable. It’s just excessive consumption under the guise of an expensive price tag. When closets are laden with unused pieces, items get donated or tossed out. A clothing item that’s sustainably made and ends up in a landfill is still waste.

Yet the problem with current trends in sustainability is that people are looked down upon for purchasing items from fast fashion retailers, when in reality, that might be all they can afford. 

However, if that item remains in the consumer’s closet for years on end, I would argue that it is more sustainable than the influencer’s expensive ethically-made garment that ends up forgotten about and thrown away in less than a year.

I’m tired of seeing people being judged on the sustainability of their lifestyle by the amount of high-end, popular, ethically made pieces they can afford.

The reality for a lot of people might be that shopping second-hand at thrift stores, or at fast fashion retailers is all they can afford — and that’s okay.

The purpose of a capsule wardrobe is to minimize waste and overconsumption. If the pieces you purchase are cherished for years and years, and are repaired or repurposed rather than simply thrown away at the end of their lifetime, that is still a more sustainable alternative than excessively buying at any retailer, fast fashion or not.

Sustainability is a lifestyle, not a price tag. And judging someone on what they can afford is just elitist and classist.