Thoughts on the ethics of sourcing secondhand fabric

A few years ago, I got into a squabble on the internet. It was over the most ridiculous of things, namely, whether it was acceptable to cut up and reuse handmade quilted blankets sourced from charity shops. Anyone who spends too much time on social media (raises hand), specifically in the niche that is sewing, and more specifically quilting, may have remembered this as being a hot button topic around 2021-22. Quilted coats were trendy and people in the sewing community were bypassing the need to quilt their own fabric, by buying secondhand quilts and reusing them as base material.

The argument in support of this notion (to which I firmly subscribe), was that charity shops and thrift stores are overwhelmed with textile goods and any means to recycle and reuse these items, rather than going out and buying new quilted coats or fabric, is ultimately better for the planet. It is also the original reason people quilt, to recycle and reuse textiles. The argument against was that hundreds of hours of labour and sometimes similar amounts of money have gone into producing these blankets, and thus these inputs should be honoured in their original format. One YouTuber went as far as describing the quilts waiting to be cut up as “lambs for the slaughter”. First world problems anyone…?

A quilt my aunt made us as a wedding gift

In my personal opinion, this mainly US-based debate was also coloured by the intersections of race and class. There are many more eloquent and better researched essays out there, so please don’t take my opinion in isolation. But from my understanding, quilting has it’s origins in the lower socioeconomic classes, as a means of reusing every available scrap of fabric. However, in the more recent past few decades, this is no longer the case. To have the time and resources to sew for joy as a hobby, quilting has become more a past time of the middle classes, and in the US, often this means it is dominated by white people.

I saw Shannon, of Rare Device, speak eloquently on this subject at the time. She is an lecturer in art history, so is well qualified to discuss these complex topics. Essentially, as I understood it, when a society makes a value judgement on preservation of ‘art’ (and in this context we’re discussing quilts instead of art), the item in question is placed in context of the culture and people who produced it. The older or more rare something is, the more likely it is to be preserved. Similarly, an item produced by a minority group, even if it’s not ‘old’, may be ‘rare’ because there will be less of them available made by that minority. In the context of quilts in the US, those made by middle class white women are common and ubiquitous and therefore there is less of an argument to be made for their preservation in their original format, unless they reach the threshold of ‘old’ (by whatever standard you are using to judge age). On the other hand, more modern quilts made by minority groups may hold more inherent value, purely by their scarcity. The type of quilts found commonly in thrift stores are much more likely to be made by your friendly neighbourhood middle class white woman, than they are to date from the 1800s or be made by an Indigenous person. This is obviously a huge simplification of a complex topic, but you get the gist. This essay, by Meguey Baker, is a fascinating opinion piece on this exact topic, from a person with an informed background in the history of American textiles and quilting.

I worked with Dastardly Line in 2022 to have quilted fabric made from remnants

Essentially, barring the rare exceptions, just because something has been created by a crafts person, doesn’t give it inherent value to anyone other than that person. Perhaps there may be sentimental value, to those directly associated with the creator. But in my opinion, if an item of art or creativity has ended up in a charity shop, it is fair game to whomever wants to give it value, in whatever form that takes. If there is evidence it is culturally significant, then a value judgement can be made on whether it is best left as a blanket, or cut up for other uses. In my personal experience, a lot of items in charity shops come with no obvious provenance and it’s up to the individual to make that decision.

As a person who places sustainability above all else in my sewing practice, I personally treat charity shops as fabric stores. There is SO MUCH textile waste in the world (according to Earth.org 1.92 million tonnes of textile waste is produced every year) , an afternoon spent thrifting is a quick way to demonstrate this on a micro-level. If you go into 5 charity shops back-to-back (in my personal UK-based experience), you will inevitably see the same broad categories of textiles in large numbers - cotton shirts, jeans, jersey tees, household items like bedding, for example. It quickly becomes apparent that there are far more secondhand textiles available than there is demand. Ultimately, anything unsold by the charity shop may be recycled (best case scenario) and turned into, for example, mattress stuffing (case in point, Oxfam has it’s own textile recycling partner and sorting centre), or worse case scenario, shipped to the Global South for resale and ultimately, landfill (see this depressing article from Greenpeace about this exact topic).

A pair of slippers I made for my Mum (you can read about them here) out of dining room chair fabric, a shearling coat and some leather remnants

I always come back to the 5 Rs (refuse, reduce, reuse, recycle and rot, ideally in that order). Obviously, when I’m shopping for fabric for a project, I’ve already skipped over refuse and reduce and settled straight on reuse. Charity shops are the ultimate in reuse, someone else has donated something they no longer want and, in my humble opinion, it is now fair game and better reused before recycled, or potentially landfilled. However, there are some other important issues I would be remiss not to mention in the context of sourcing fabric secondhand - fat phobia, poverty and fast fashion. 

I’ve seen discussions online in the past, covering the subject of charity shops in the UK providing for the poorest in society. The argument goes that without charity shops, those in lower socioeconomic groups would struggle to clothe themselves. Thus, those of us in the comfortable middle classes, using charity shops as a source of sustainable fabric for our creative pursuits, should be cognizant of taking resources from those in more desperate need. I think personally, this was an argument that held water a couple of decades ago, when charity shops were generally cheaper and fast fashion was less ubiquitous (Primark  became the big high street name we know now after buying Littlewoods in 2005). Charity shops make up around 3.5% of retail units in the UK, meaning there are plenty of other options out there for people looking for something specific, for those concerned about cutting up resources that may have demand in their original form. These days, you can buy brand new clothing in places like Primark, Matalan and major supermarkets for much cheaper than the charity shops, and even cheaper still online from fast fashion outlets like Shein. Meanwhile, it’s not uncommon for charity shops to charge fair but relatively high prices for good quality items. Essentially, you can shop brand new in Primark for less than shopping secondhand in a lot of charity shops, which undermines the argument that clothing in charity shops should be left for the poorest in society.

I’m by no means criticising the prices in charity shops, quite the opposite in fact. Charity shops exist to produce funds for charitable work, and thus should charge as much as possible to maximise their profits. In fact, the scales are tipped firmly in the opposite direction, that fast fashion charges too little, mostly because of unethical environmental and labour rights practices throughout the supply chain. But if the basis of the argument not to source fabric from charity shops, in the form of secondhand clothing, is that it should be left for poor folks…well, that doesn’t hold water these days. Affordable clothing is widely available brand new, meaning again, in my opinion, clothing in charity shops is fair game for those looking to source sustainable, affordable fabric for their sewing practice.

A Helen’s Closet York Pinafore I made for my Mum back in 2019 out of old jeans

The one area where I hesitate when buying secondhand, is raiding the plus size rack. As a person holding straight size privilege (meaning I fit into society’s ‘acceptable’ body size range and my size affords me economic, political and social advantage), I can (and have in the past) bought larger sizes of clothing to utilise the fabric. However, I understand now that if a larger size person is trying to shop secondhand, it can be hard to find clothing in the size range they require. Fewer of these clothes are donated and the range of sizes, designs and colours available is more limited. There is a strong argument to be made for leaving the larger sizes available on the rack for people who may want them in their original format. I personally use the men's section to source larger sizes to maximise the volume of fabric, since I'm lucky enough that a man's size medium or large might hold enough fabric for me. It's important to acknowledge though, this isn't true for everyone and I think a general rule of thumb is to ask yourself the question whether a larger sized person might want this shirt or pair of jeans before you help yourself. If there are 10 other similar options available, then in my opinion , fill yer boots. Equally, if you live in a small town with a limited number of charity shops, versus living in a major city with a plethora to chose from, you may make different choices.

Ultimately, the amount of fabric, in the form of clothing or household textiles, that a home sewist is taking out of circulation represents such a tiny proportion of the overall problem. Textile waste is an international issue that governments and corporations need to be addressing, to make any kind of meaningful change. That's not to say we don't all have a collective individual responsibility, to do the best we can with the resources available to us. But ultimately, this is not a problem a home sewist will solve. We just need to be cognizant of the resources available to us and make mindful decisions wherever possible. So to that end, I will continue to use thrift shops to source my fabric - jeans, quilts, wool blankets and all.