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HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVES ON
SUSTAINABLE FASHION
ii
HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVES ON
SUSTAINABLE FASHION

INSPIRATION FOR CHANGE

Second Edition

Amy Twigger Holroyd, Jennifer Farley Gordon, and Colleen Hill


BLOOMSBURY VISUAL ARTS
Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK
1385 Broadway, New York, NY 10018, USA
29 Earlsfort Terrace, Dublin 2, Ireland

BLOOMSBURY, BLOOMSBURY VISUAL ARTS and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

First published in Great Britain 2023

Copyright © Amy Twigger Holroyd, Jennifer Farley Gordon, Colleen Hill, 2023

Amy Twigger Holroyd, Jennifer Farley Gordon, and Colleen Hill have asserted their right under the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Authors of this work.

For legal purposes the Acknowledgments on p. xiii constitute an extension of this copyright page.

Cover design by Adriana Brioso


Cover image: Home Ties by G. Coles Phillips, early 1900s. (© Transcendental Graphics/Getty Images)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission
in writing from the publishers.

Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in
this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher
regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibil-
ity for any such changes.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data


Names: Holroyd, Amy Twigger, author. | Farley Gordon, Jennifer, author. | Hill, Colleen, 1982- author.
Title: Historical perspectives on sustainable fashion : inspiration for change / Amy Twigger Holroyd, Jennifer Farley Gordon,
and Colleen Hill.
Description: Second edition. | London ; New York : Bloomsbury Visual Arts, 2023. | Includes bibliographical references and
index. | Summary: “Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion in Fashion reminds us that concerns about workers’
rights and chemical pollution in the fashion industry have been with us as far back as the early 19th century. By placing
today’s sustainable fashion movement in its historical context, this book encourages contemporary designers to learn
from past failures and build on their predecessors’ successes to move the business of fashion forward. As well as new
international examples from each stage of the fashion production cycle, this revised edition includes a new opening chap-
ter outlining the different fashion systems and their role in sustainable practice. There’s also a new chapter on how the
consumer can play a role in the environmental impact of their clothing, exploring the importance of emotional significance
and value, shopping and e-commerce as well as laundering and care”-- Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2022014166 (print) | LCCN 2022014167 (ebook) | ISBN 9781350160446 (hb) | ISBN 9781350160439 (pb) |
ISBN 9781350160453 (epdf) | ISBN 9781350160477 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Fashion design. | Fashion--Environmental aspects. | Clothing trade--Environmental aspects. |
Sustainable engineering.
Classification: LCC TT515 .H65 2023 (print) | LCC TT515 (ebook) | DDC 746.9/2--dc23/eng/20220819
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022014166
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022014167

ISBN: HB: 978-1-3501-6044-6


PB: 978-1-3501-6043-9
ePDF: 978-1-3501-6045-3
ePub: 978-1-3501-6047-7

Typeset by Deanta Global Publishing Services, Chennai, India

To find out more about our authors and books visit www​.bloomsbury​.com and sign up for our newsletters.

Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion.indb 4 01-09-2022 11:43:22 AM


For our families, with love.
CONTENTS

List of Figures viii


Acknowledgments xii

Introduction 1
Global Challenges and Sustainability 1
What Is Sustainable Fashion? 3
Looking Back 4
Historical Examples 5
Chapter by Chapter 6
Using This Book 8

1 Materials and Processes 11


How Did We Get Here? 13
Inspiration for Change 26
Thinking Critically 34
Further Reading 35

2 Design and Manufacture 37


How Did We Get Here? 38
Inspiration for Change 46
Thinking Critically 57
Further Reading 58

3 Reuse and Recycling 61


How Did We Get Here? 62
Inspiration for Change 71
Thinking Critically 79
Further Reading 81

4 Labor Practices 83
How Did We Get Here? 84
Inspiration for Change 94
Thinking Critically 102
Further Reading 103
Contents

5 Treatment of Animals 105


How Did We Get Here? 107
Inspiration for Change 116
Thinking Critically 126
Further Reading 126

6 Fashion Systems 129


How Did We Get Here? 134
Inspiration for Change 140
Thinking Critically 153
Further Reading 155

Conclusion 157

Notes 159
Select Bibliography 188
Glossary 191
Index 193

vii
FIGURES

0.1 Planetary boundaries. Designed by Azote for Stockholm Resilience Centre, based on analysis
in Persson et al. 2022 and Steffen et al. 2015 2
0.2 Extinction Rebellion protestor invades Louis Vuitton catwalk show, Paris Fashion Week,
2021. Photo by Christophe Archambault/AFP via Getty Images 3
0.3 Esprit ecollection products from Fall 1992, featuring naturally processed wool sweater
handknitted by Appalachia by Design cooperative, with hand-painted buttons by Watermark
Cooperative; post-consumer recycled wool scarf; and ecollection Fall 1992 brochure. Photo-
graph: Lynda Grose 5
0.4 Fashions Past: Future Garment Making by Matilda Aspinall. Photography: Mark Tamer 8
1.1 CROP knitwear by Kate Morris. Photograph: Rebecca Lewis 12
1.2 Pulp-It Paper Fashion prototype. Politowicz, Goldsworthy and Granberg (2019) Fast-For-
ward Fashion, Mistra Future Fashion https://www​.cir​cula​rdes​ignspeeds​.com/
Photography: Jelly Luise 12
1.3 Detail of the zero-waste Kala Cotton Shibori Wrap, hand-woven and naturally dyed in in-
digo, Out of the Blue 2019. @Medium, New Delhi, 2019 13
1.4 Eli Whitney’s Cotton Gin. American Stock Archive/Archive Photos/Getty Images 15
1.5 Dress, orange rayon/cotton blend, multicolored floral cotton. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 17
1.6 Claire McCardell, evening dress, white printed nylon. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 18
1.7 Wash N’ Wear, man’s suit, grey nylon seersucker. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 19
1.8 Lucien Lelong, evening cape, dark blue cellophane, navy tulle. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 21
1.9 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. André Courrèges, dress, black vinyl, black
chiffon, pale silk. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 21
1.10 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Dress and pelerine, green, yellow, and red
roller-printed cotton. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 22
1.11 Dress, purple and black striped silk taffeta. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 24
1.12 Sophie, dress and sweater set, black silk twill with discharge floral print, cashmere. Photo-
graph © The Museum at FIT 26
1.13 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Organic by John Patrick, shirt and jumper,
white Japanese organic cotton mesh, light blue and white organic cotton shirting. Photograph
© The Museum at FIT 28
1.14 Noir (Peter Ingwersen), evening dress, black Illuminati II cotton, silver-studded leather. Pho-
tograph © The Museum at FIT 29
1.15 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Ciel (Sarah Ratty), dress, grey and silver
metallic printed lyocell. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 31
1.16 FIN (Per Åge Sivertsen), dress, blue organic bamboo satin. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 32
2.1 Old Fadama Dumpsite, Accra, Ghana. Photograph: The Or Foundation 38
2.2 Sample swatches for “Blue Sweater” by Lynda Grose, for the series “Designing Garments with
the Potential to Evolve Over Time.” Undyed cationic and non-cationic cotton, pre-dyed cot-
ton. Photograph: Lynda Grose 39
2.3 Puzzleware workshop. Almaborealis / Rose & Julien Photography 2019 39
2.4 Transferral t-shirt. Digital design and concept by Holly McQuillan (2020) 40
Figures

2.5 Denis Diderot, “Tapisserie de Basse-Lisse des Gobelins,” from L’Encyclopédie, ou Dictionnaire
Raisonné des Sciences, des Arts et des Métiers. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 41
2.6 Robe à la Française, lavender and pink silk brocade. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 42
2.7 Stanley, shirtwaist blouse, white cotton. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 45
2.8 Evening dress, multicolor printed paper and pink ostrich feathers. Photograph © The Museum
at FIT 47
2.9 Adrian suit, brown, grey, blue, and red wool. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 49
2.10 Christian Dior, evening dress, ivory silk satin with multicolor embroidery and rhinestones.
Photograph © The Museum at FIT 50
2.11 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Organic by John Patrick, ensemble, hand-
painted white organic cotton mesh, purple silk. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 51
2.12 Alabama Chanin (Natalie Chanin), ensemble: Coat and two-piece wrap dress, light blue
organic cotton jersey. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 52
2.13 Alabama Chanin (Natalie Chanin), detail of organic cotton jersey fabric. Photograph © The
Museum at FIT 53
2.14 Slow and Steady Wins the Race (Mary Ping), “Postal” bag, unbleached cotton canvas. Photo-
graph © The Museum at FIT 54
2.15 Dress with evening bodice, pale green silk. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 55
2.16 Dress with added pelerine and long sleeves, pale green silk. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 56
2.17 YEOHLEE Fall 2009 runway presentation, model wearing a ballerina bodysuit and Zero
Waste sarong. Photo by Michael Loccisano/Getty Images for IMG 57
2.18 Tattooed denim concept by Changxian Chu and Yifan Wang. Photograph: Yifan Wang 59
3.1 Shop owner Constanze Pelzer in her 1920s–50s vintage shop “Glencheck” in the Wilmersdorf
area of Berlin. Odd Andersen/AFP via Getty Images 62
3.2 Ambrosia, Holly, and Kate mending. Image: Kate Sekules @visiblemend 63
3.3 Helen Kirkum x Casely Hayford, Model no: TX65, ArchiveShoot. Photographed by Rachel
Dray 2018 64
3.4 Reticule, ivory silk with multicolor embroidery. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 64
3.5 Dress re-fashioned from eighteenth-century fabric, ivory silk brocade. Photograph © The
Museum at FIT 66
3.6 Dress remade from Paisley shawl, multicolor wool, and burgundy velvet. Photograph © The
Museum at FIT 67
3.7 Man’s patchwork dressing gown made from crazy quilt, multicolor patchwork, and black
moiré. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 69
3.8 “Layout No. 3,” instructions for converting a man’s suit to a woman’s suit. From the book
Make and Mend for Victory. Collection of the author 70
3.9 Grinding machine, from Great Industries of Great Britain (London, 1884). Universal History
Archive/Getty Images 71
3.10 Betsey Johnson, maxi dress with Woolmark label, multicolor space-dyed wool knit. Photo-
graph © The Museum at FIT 72
3.11 Woman’s vest re-fashioned from a man’s eighteenth-century waistcoat, ivory silk with multi-
color embroidery. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 73
3.12 Suit remade from Paisley shawl, multicolor wool. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 74
3.13 Yesterday’s News (Harriet Winter), dress made from vintage fabric, multicolor printed rayon,
orange rayon, black rayon. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 76
3.14 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Maison Martin Margiela, sweaters made
from socks, army green wool. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 77
3.15 XULY.Bët (Lamine Kouyaté), dress and jacket made from repurposed materials, multicolor
sweaters, brown wool plaid, red nylon. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 78

ix
Figures

3.16 Rebecca Earley, Ever and Again shirt “upcycled” from used blouse, multicolor heat photo-
gram-printed polyester. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 80
3.17 FIN (Per Åge Sivertsen), dress, grey/blue organic cotton and recycled polyester. Photograph
© The Museum at FIT 81
4.1 Katherine Smallwood (President of the Fashion Revolution Society at Nottingham Trent
University) for #WhoMadeMyClothes. Photograph: Katherine Smallwood 84
4.2 Genevieve Sweeney British Knitwear AW21 Leyden Sweater. Photograph: Genevieve Sweeney 85
4.3 ReCreate workshop. Photograph: ReCreate Clothing 86
4.4 Dress and spencer jacket, white cotton. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 87
4.5 Photograph of a ten-year-old spinner in a North Carolina cotton mill by Lewis Wickes Hine.
Photography Collection, Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs,
The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundations 89
4.6 Two women and two men working in an early garment shop. Photographer unknown. Kheel
Center, Cornell University, http://www​.ilr​.cornell​.edu​/trianglefire/ 90
4.7 Fazul (age 9) sewing in a local garment shop in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Photo by K M Asad/
LightRocket via Getty Images 92
4.8 Relatives carrying placards and photographs of factory fire victims in Karachi, 2020. Photo by
Rizwan Tabassum/AFP via Getty Images 94
4.9 Demonstrators mourning for victims of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York,
1911. Photo by PhotoQuest/Getty Images 95
4.10 New York Dress Institute, evening dress, printed red rayon crepe, rhinestones, seed pearls.
Photograph © The Museum at FIT 98
4.11 Madeleine Vionnet, dress, ivory silk georgette. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 99
4.12 Thai homeworker, Rattana Chalermchai. Paula Bronstein/Getty Images 100
4.13 Mountain Artisans, patchwork skirt, multicolor cotton. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 101
4.14 Carlos Miele, Fuxico evening gown, brown and ivory silk. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 102
5.1 Tannery in Amazon, Brazil. Photo by Ricardo Funari/Brazil Photos/LightRocket via Getty
Images 106
5.2 Andrew by Kerone Campbell Olai for Josefin Liljekvist 106
5.3 Vegan and sustainable Ananas perfecto jacket by Lo Neel. Photograph: Samuel Fabio 107
5.4 Ahimsa silk organza garment featuring spun glass and wild rubber embellishment by Naomi
Bailey-Cooper. Photograph © Naomi Bailey-Cooper 108
5.5 Berthe Tally, hat, woven straw, grey (possibly gull) feathers in the shape of wings. Photograph
© The Museum at FIT 109
5.6 Bird of paradise body intended for millinery trimmings. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 110
5.7 Fan, ivory, paper, metallic foil; hair comb, tortoiseshell. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 111
5.8 Handbag, alligator. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 112
5.9 Dressing gown, silk faille, fur. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 113
5.10 Felix Jungmann et Cie, Les Belles Fourrures (Paris: A. Colmer et Cie, September 1913), plate
1. Image courtesy of the Fashion Institute of Technology|SUNY, Gladys Marcus Library De-
partment of Special Collections and College Archives 114
5.11 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Left: Man’s coat, raccoon fur, wood toggles.
Right: Opera coat, blue silk velvet, metallic sequins, bugle beads, raccoon fur. Photograph ©
The Museum at FIT 115
5.12 Sketch of a Ben Thylan coat to be rendered in mink or sable. Image courtesy of the Fashion
Institute of Technology|SUNY, Gladys Marcus Library Department of Special Collections
and College Archives 117
5.13 Cawston Ostrich Farm, 1905. Photo by Sepia Times/Universal Images Group via Getty Images 119

x
Figures

5.14 American actress Betty Field wearing a leopard fur coat, 1941. Photo by Archive Photos/Getty
Images 121
5.15 Models from the Janice Dickinson agency join PETA’s “I’d Rather Go Naked Than Wear Fur”
protest, Los Angeles, 2007. Photo by Chad Buchanan/Getty Images 122
5.16 Madame Grès, coat, brown wool faux fur. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 124
5.17 Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green. Left: Oscar de la Renta, coat and hat, green
wool, faux leopard skin, Mongolian lamb fur. Right: Dolce and Gabbana, coat, tiger print
faux fur. Photograph © The Museum at FIT 125
6.1 Fashion Fictions World 54 prototype by Gillian Allsopp, Kate Harper, Johnny O’Flynn and
a fourth Fashion Fictions contributor; original fiction by Wendy Ward. Model: Johnny
O’Flynn. Photograph: Jade Bramley 130
6.2 Earth Logic values. Katelyn Toth Fejel and Anna Fitzpatrick, courtesy of Earth Logic 131
6.3 Fall Winter and Spring Summer editions of JUMPSUIT. Photo by Lara Kastner, work by the
Rational Dress Society 132
6.4 Harvest Day, Homegrown Homespun project. Photograph: Beatrice Photography 133
6.5 Fashion Fictions World 43 “Blue Fashion Commons” prototype and fiction by Amy Twigger
Holroyd. Photograph: Craftspace, from “We Are Commoners: Creative Acts of Commoning”
national touring exhibition 2021 134
6.6 “Harvesting acorn to feed swine”; detail of a miniature from the Queen Mary Psalter (BL
Royal 2 B VII). Held and digitized by the British Library 135
6.7 Soup kitchen for victims of the Lancashire cotton famine. Universal History Archive/Univer-
sal Images Group via Getty Images 138
6.8 Barratt shoe shop advert, Picture Post (March 10, 1951). Picture Post/Hulton Archive/Getty
Images 139
6.9 Illustration from 1851 showing a woman wearing “Bloomers,” a pair of full trousers under a
short skirt. Photo by Library of Congress/Corbis/VCG via Getty Images 143
6.10 How to cut out the “tuta,” Thayaht (Ernesto Michahelles), drawing (tempera and ink on
paper), 1920, Tessuti antichi Inventory no. 7591, Florence, Pitti Palace, Museum of Costume
and Fashion (former Costume Gallery). Gabinetto Fotografico delle Gallerie degli Uffizi 144​
6.11 First conference of nudist organisations in England, London, 1934. Photo by Imagno/Getty
Images 146
6.12 “Wensley Dale knitters,” New York Public Library Digital Collections 149
6.13 Smock, object number 56/243. The Museum of English Rural Life, University of Reading 151
6.14 Fashion Fictions World 19 prototype (in progress) by Jade Lord; original fiction by Katherine
Pogson. Photograph: Sanket Haribhau Nikam 154

xi
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The idea for this book began as an exhibition entitled Eco-Fashion: Going Green, curated by Jennifer and
Colleen, which was on view at The Museum at FIT (MFIT) in 2010. We express our heartfelt gratitude to
all of our colleagues at MFIT, especially Dr. Valerie Steele, director and chief curator, Patricia Mears, deputy
director, and Fred Dennis, senior curator, for their guidance through every phase of this project. We also
extend our appreciation to the Museum’s photographer, Eileen Costa, to Thomas Synnamon, for his assistance
in preparing objects for photography, and to our conservators Ann Coppinger, Marjorie Jonas, and Nicole
Bloomfield. Thanks also to MFIT Editor Julian Clark, whose assistance with writing text for the Eco-Fashion
exhibition proved invaluable to the first edition of this publication as well.
There are a number of sustainable fashion designers who provided clothing for the Eco-Fashion exhibition,
and whose work is also included in this book: Natalie Chanin, Rebecca Earley, Ali Hewson, Peter Ingwersen,
Carlos Miele, John Patrick, Sarah Ratty, Per Åge Sivertsen, and Yeohlee Teng. We are in awe of the talent that
these designers possess, and we also have tremendous respect for their principles.
Insights from Fashion Fictions, an international participatory initiative led by Amy, are incorporated into
the final chapter of this book. We are grateful to all those who have contributed worlds to Fashion Fictions,
those who have participated in prototyping and enactment workshops and those who have supported the
facilitation and documentation of these activities, particularly the project’s Research Fellow, Dr. Matilda
Aspinall, and photographers, Jade Bramley and Sanket Haribhau Nikam. Fashion Fictions is funded by an
Arts and Humanities Research Council Research, Development and Engagement Fellowship (reference AH/
V01286X/1).
For the generous use of historical images, we thank the Kheel Center at Cornell University; the New York
Public Library; Le Gallerie degli Uffizi; Museum of English Rural Life, University of Reading; Lynda Grose;
Jane Thylan, and the Fashion Institute of Technology|SUNY, Gladys Marcus Library, Department of Special
Collections and College Archives. The staff of the latter—Karen Cannell, April Calahan, and Juliet Jacobson—
also provided invaluable assistance with research.
We are indebted to all those who have kindly supplied images of contemporary practice for the book:
Justine Aldersey-Williams and Bea Davidson, Matilda Aspinall, Naomi Bailey-Cooper, Deirdre Figueiredo
and Emma Daker, Kate Fletcher and Mathilda Tham, Erica Gadsby, Abigail Glaum-Lathbury and Maura
Brewer, Kate Goldsworthy, Lynda Grose, Riddhi Jain Satija, Helen Kirkum, Josefin Liljeqvist, Holly McQuillan,
Kate Morris, Frédérique Muller, Maija Nygren, Kate Sekules, Katherine Smallwood, Genevieve Sweeney, and
Yifan Wang and Changxian Chu. We are inspired by the commitment and vigor of these sustainable fashion
practitioners and thinkers. We thank Stockholm Resilience Centre for the use of the planetary boundaries
diagram that is so effective in communicating ecological realities.
At Bloomsbury Academic Publishers, we extend our gratitude to the commissioning editor of the first
edition, Anna Wright, who helped us take the first steps toward making this book a reality, and the editor of
this new edition, Georgia Kennedy, who has guided us through the process with such kindness and vision.
INTRODUCTION

Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion: Inspiration for Change explores the historical dimensions of
today’s sustainable fashion movement. Should history play a role in the sustainable fashion context? Some
may doubt the value of looking to the past, feeling that the global challenges we are facing require fresh
thinking and technological innovation. Yet to ignore history is to ignore a vital source of understanding and
inspiration.
As Kenneth Bartlett explains, history provides “nuance and explanation to not only what happened before
we were born but more urgently to the universe we are inhabiting at this very moment.”1 Folklorist Henry
Glassie, in an essay titled “The Practice and Purpose of History,” similarly argues that history has value by
simultaneously “explaining the development of states of affairs,” and “artfully moving people to awareness of
their options.”2 By speaking of options, Glassie draws our gaze to the future and highlights the importance of
historical knowledge in helping us to navigate paths forward.
With the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change calling for “rapid, far-reaching and
unprecedented changes in all aspects of society”3 in order to limit climate change to 1.5°C above
preindustrial levels, there is an urgent need for us to explore futures that step away from established
trajectories and familiar notions of progress. History can contribute to this creative exploration: as
economist Ha-Joon Chang states, “one of the utilities of studying history is to allow us to imagine other
realities.”4 Driven by a conviction that a deeper understanding of the past is crucial to our grasp of the
present and the development of sustainable futures, we hope that this book will provide a compendium
of inspiration for today’s innovators.
The book has been developed via three phases of work, stretching back over a decade. Its origins lie in an
exhibition, Eco-Fashion: Going Green, that was held at The Museum at The Fashion Institute of Technology in
2010. The co-curators of the exhibition, Jennifer Farley Gordon and Colleen Hill, developed their research into
Sustainable Fashion: Past, Present and Future, the first book to concentrate on the history of the relationship
between the fashion industry and the environment, published in 2015. This book is a renamed and reframed
second edition of that earlier title. Amy Twigger Holroyd, who has been active in the field of fashion and
sustainability for close to two decades, has revised and updated the text, aligning the historical material
with emergent sustainable fashion debates and adding a new final chapter focused on fashion systems. In
that chapter, Amy draws on Fashion Fictions, her international participatory fashion research project that
brings people together to generate, experience, and reflect on engaging fictional visions of sustainable fashion
cultures and systems.

Global Challenges and Sustainability

In 2021, Earth Overshoot Day—the date on which humanity’s demand for ecological resources
and services exceeds what the planet can regenerate in that year—was July 29. This means that we
would need almost two Earths to sustain current modes of living.5 A “headline” figure such as this
hides major disparities in the resource demands of different regions: if the entire global population
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

had the same ecological footprint as the average US citizen, for example, more than five Earths would
be needed.6 These calculations are provided by Global Footprint Network, an international research
organization that aims to support human life within ecological limits. As the organization explains,
the dramatic imbalance between what we take and what the planet can bear is made possible only by
“liquidating stocks of ecological resources and accumulating waste, primarily carbon dioxide in the
atmosphere.”7
Living beyond our planetary means has devastating consequences, as documented by the United Nations
Environment Programme’s Global Environmental Outlook reports, published every few years. The 2019 report,
which summarizes global environmental challenges including carbon dioxide emissions, climate change,
biodiversity loss, ocean acidification, land degradation, and chemical pollution, highlights “a deterioration
in planetary health at unprecedented rates, with increasingly serious consequences, in particular for poorer
people and regions.”8 WWF’s Living Planet Report uses simpler language, stating that “our planet is flashing
red warning signs.”9 With trends in environmental degradation projected to continue, the need for action
could not be more urgent. As the Global Environmental Outlook report explains, “Measures . . . need to be
implemented rapidly and at an unprecedented scale.”10​
The concept of sustainability was developed in the 1970s as a way of bringing together social concerns about
global deprivation with concerns about the environment.11 Today, this ubiquitous term has multiple possible
definitions and interpretations. The most often cited definition is that of sustainable development: “development
that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own

Figure 0.1 In 2009, scientists identified nine processes that regulate the earth system’s stability and resilience. They pro-
posed quantitative planetary boundaries that create a “safe operating space” within which humanity could thrive in the
future. As the diagram shows, several of the boundaries have already been breached, increasing the risk of sudden, large-
scale, and irreversible environmental changes.12

2
Introduction

needs.”13 People often overlook the fact that this principle includes equity within generations—addressing the
huge inequalities that exist between rich and poor countries, for example—as well as between generations. Critics
of the sustainable development model would say that it treats nature only as a resource and “fails to recognize
that humans and other living beings depend on each other for their well-being.”14 From this “multi-species”
perspective, true sustainability involves meeting the current and future needs of all species—not just humans.15
Sustainability has been a source of intense emotion and debate for half a century. As climate change becomes
more apparent and natural resources diminish, even more people are becoming conscious of these issues. The
fashion industry, our area of focus, has received no small measure of criticism for its environmentally destructive
practices. Each stage of a garment’s life—from the cultivation of raw fibers to the disposal of an unwanted garment—
has harmful impacts.16 Furthermore, the value of clothing has changed. Once a revered commodity, fashion is now
all too often considered disposable. The mass quantity in which clothes are produced means that they have little
value in the resale market and thus many items end up in landfills. In fact, the New Economics Foundation states
that “Over-consumption in rich countries represents one of the key barriers to sustainable wellbeing worldwide.”17
It is little wonder, then, that the fashion industry—one of the world’s major industries, with a deeply embedded
culture of overconsumption—is coming under increasingly intense scrutiny. Accordingly, sustainable fashion is a
subject of interest to a wide range of people, including environmentalists, fashion students, and concerned citizens.​

What Is Sustainable Fashion?

Just as the concept of sustainability can be interpreted in different ways, so too can the concept of sustainable
fashion. The term, which is sometimes used interchangeably with other words, such as “eco,” “green,” and

Figure 0.2 The culture of overconsumption that is entwined with the mainstream globalized fashion system presents a
major barrier to sustainability. In October 2021, Extinction Rebellion activists burst onto the catwalk at the Louis Vuit-
ton fashion show in Paris to highlight the impact of the fashion industry on climate change. The protesters called for “an
immediate cut in production levels in the sector, given that 42 items of clothing were sold per person in France in 2019.”18

3
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

“organic,” is often used to encompass a scope of fashion production or design methods that are environmentally
and/or ethically conscious—suggesting a division of clothing into that which is sustainable, and that which is
not. This division is not straightforward, because even those working within the field have differing opinions
on best (or most important) practices. Another view frames sustainable fashion as a paradox: impossible to
achieve, because sustainability cannot occur alongside the planned obsolescence of rapidly changing fashion
styles. From this perspective, sustainability is a goal that we cannot attain but we must do our best to work
toward. As Sandy Black, author of Eco-Chic: The Fashion Paradox, notes: “at all stages of design and production
decision-making there are trade-offs to be made, reconciling fashion and style with available materials, costs
and time constraints.”19
The two interpretations of sustainable fashion outlined earlier could be considered as what sustainable
fashion leader Kate Fletcher describes as “more of the same, but more efficient.”20 Fletcher outlines alternative
ways of thinking about sustainable fashion, which “frame sustainability as contingent on ‘something different’;
that is something different to greater efficiency, also involving fundamental personal, social and institutional
change.” In the influential publication Earth Logic Fashion Action Research Plan, published in 2019, Kate
Fletcher and Mathilda Tham communicate the ambition and scale of this thinking, explaining: “We need to
profoundly rethink fashion.”21 In this book we aim to identify a range of historical examples and insights that
can support the profound change in mindset proposed by Fletcher and Tham.

Looking Back

The roots of the sustainable fashion movement are commonly traced back to the 1960s and 1970s, in
correspondence to rising concerns over the environment. Yet issues surrounding topics such as labor relations,
animal rights, and the mass production of clothing have long been subjects of discourse. Designers today face
problems that date at least as far back as the nineteenth century—when technological developments resulted
in quickly produced but inferior textiles, for example.
Problems related to fashion production escalated throughout the twentieth century. By the 1940s, a
number of designers were experimenting with synthetic fibers, many of which will take hundreds of years
to biodegrade. Natural fibers, especially cotton, were grown using large amounts of chemical fertilizer and
pesticides, polluting both soil and water supplies. Despite ethical concerns, animal products, especially furs,
became increasingly fashionable luxury commodities. Throughout the United States, garment workers’
unions were formed to promote fair wages and healthy work environments. This unionization prompted a
reactionary response: outsourcing production to countries in the global South, where workers are paid very
little and labor conditions are often dangerous.
The need for significant change in fashion production was established by the 1960s. Often viewed as
the foundation of the environmentalist movement, Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring (1962) specifically
referenced the use of pesticides in fiber farming, as well as the damage caused by fabric finishes. By the end
of the decade, the “natural” look of the hippies was associated with environmentalism. Several elements of
their clothing choices—earth tones, hemp fabric, and patchwork, for example—could be seen as prototypes
for later sustainable fashions. Further landmarks in the development of the sustainable fashion
movement include Esprit’s ecollection, launched in 1992 (see Figure 0.3), and anti-globalization protests at
the World Trade Organization’s meeting in Seattle in 1999. Sasha Rabin Wallinger describes this as a “pivotal
social milestone influencing sustainability in fashion,” with campaigners protesting against trade agreements
that compromised the health and safety of factory workers and promoting initiatives that would safeguard
human rights.22

4
Introduction

Figure 0.3 In the late 1980s Doug Tompkins, the co-founder of mainstream fashion company Esprit, became deeply
concerned about the degradation of natural ecosystems. Seeking to drive change via his business, he initiated a lecture
series for the company’s employees to raise awareness about ecological issues and in late 1990 placed an advertisement
asking customers to buy only what they needed.23 A particularly influential initiative was the ecollection, led by designer
Lynda Grose and launched in 1992.24 The collection was informed by the Elmwood Institute’s “Guide to Eco-auditing”
which helped establish the environmental impacts of the line’s products.25 The fall 1992 collection shown here (along with
a brochure promoting the collection) featured a naturally processed wool sweater with hand-painted buttons and recycled
glass beads made by cooperatives and a scarf made from post-consumer recycled fiber.

Since the turn of the millennium, sustainable fashion has steadily grown. Activity has intensified across
industry and academia and public awareness has increased. Notable developments include Well Fashioned:
Eco Style in the UK, an exhibition at the Crafts Council Gallery in London curated by sustainable textile
expert Rebecca Earley in 2006,26 and a crop of books published in 2008, including the much-cited Sustainable
Fashion and Textiles: Design Journeys by Kate Fletcher.27 The 2013 collapse of the Rana Plaza building that
housed five garment factories in Dhaka, Bangladesh was a tragic milestone that led to the founding of the
international Fashion Revolution campaign. Today, the urgency of change is more widely understood than
ever, and an array of campaigns, projects, and initiatives is seeking to pursue sustainability in the fashion
system in different ways.

Historical Examples

The first edition of this book was inspired by an exhibition that was held at The Museum at The Fashion
Institute of Technology (MFIT) in 2010, curated by Jennifer and Colleen. With an increase in press and
publications regarding sustainable fashion, as well as a growing number of sustainable clothing lines, it felt

5
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

like the perfect time to organize an exhibition on the subject. Eco-Fashion: Going Green featured over 100
examples of clothing, accessories, and textiles from the eighteenth century to the present. The objects were
arranged chronologically in the Fashion and Textile History Gallery, a space devoted to the exhibition of
materials from the museum’s permanent collections. The exhibition provided a historical context for the
contemporary sustainable fashion movement by examining the past two centuries of fashion’s problematic
(and occasionally positive) environmental and ethical practices.
The majority of curatorial choices were already part of the MFIT collections. In fact, it would be possible
to explore the topic of sustainability using nearly any collection of historical clothing: many such collections
contain garments that have been altered for continued wear, for example, or that were colored using chemical
dyes. Another element crucial to the exhibition was the selection of contemporary sustainable fashion. These
new acquisitions were not only featured in Eco-Fashion: Going Green, but they also became part of The
Museum at FIT’s permanent collection. In accordance with the museum’s mission to collect aesthetically and
historically significant “directional” clothing, contemporary styles were selected for their designers’ devotion
to best fashion practices, as well as to high style. Around fifty items from Eco-Fashion: Going Green are
featured in the first five chapters of this book, dating from the eighteenth century to the acquisitions made for
the exhibition in 2010. Each object is discussed with regards to its materials and/or methods of production, as
well as its larger significance to fashion’s past.
When Amy came to write Chapter 6, she needed a different means of identifying the historical examples
for inclusion. Instead of drawing on a museum archive, she used the visions of alternative fashion systems
submitted to the Fashion Fictions project to identify areas of interest. She then looked for historical fashion
systems with relevance to the various themes and drew on expert sources to gain insights into their cultures
and practices.
It is important to note that this book is far from comprehensive: the historical material is largely
focused on the United States (and the East Coast in particular), with some discussion of the United
Kingdom in Chapter 6 and a few other exceptions. This restricted geographical scope reflects the nature
of The Museum at FIT’s collection and the expertise of the authors, who are based in the United States
and the United Kingdom. We recognize the importance of plurality in fashion and the value of exploring
cultural perspectives beyond the locations that have long dominated both fashion culture and fashion
research. Therefore we encourage readers to treat the book as a geographically limited example of
how historical insights can be identified and used to inspire contemporary action in the sustainable
fashion movement. Exploration beyond the scope of this book could shed light on the ways in which
the mainstream globalized fashion system developed and manifested in particular places—and provide
vital insight into localized fashion systems and associated ways of knowing that have consequently been
displaced.

Chapter by Chapter

The chapters in this book follow a consistent pattern, exploring various areas of focus within the field of
sustainable fashion. In each chapter an introduction outlines the situation today, highlighting contemporary
sustainability strategies via examples from around the world. The main body of each chapter is divided into
two sections. The first investigates the development of the fashion industry, which tends to bring problematic
issues into focus. The second considers inspiration for change, looking at the historical emergence of ethical

6
Introduction

and sustainable strategies. The conclusion to each chapter raises critical issues that must be considered when
pursuing action, and a list of further reading provides suggestions of various resources relating to the chapter’s
theme.
Chapter 1, Materials and Processes, focuses on the choices we make about fibers, textiles, and finishes.
Today, we see designers and businesses seeking to select materials with lower environmental impacts,
developing alternative materials with improved sustainability credentials, and considering the best ways
to color their fabrics. The chapter explores the history of the cultivation and production of a selection
of fibers, considering the environmental problems that have developed as their use has grown, and the
emergence of “better” alternatives. It also explores the history of dyeing textiles and the many problems
that arose with the development of synthetic chemical dyes in the nineteenth century.
Chapter 2, Design and Manufacture, considers the impact of the ways in which we design and make our
clothes on the ways in which they are used—and often, rapidly discarded. Faster and less expensive production
of fabric and clothing was a vital part of the Industrial Revolution in the nineteenth century, and the chapter
outlines the role of these technological developments in the emergence of the contemporary ready-to-wear
industry. Yet an abundance of design and making strategies for embedding value in clothing can be observed
in the past and today, such as slow fashion, craft production, multifunctional design, and zero-waste pattern
cutting.
Chapter 3, Reuse and Recycling, examines the wearing of secondhand clothing, the repurposing of
existing items into new garments, and the recycling of old fibers into new textiles. Today, techniques of
repurposing and recycling are often viewed as especially sustainable, as they eliminate or minimize the need
for new material production. Yet these practices have long histories and the chapter examines a variety of
examples from the eighteenth century to the early twenty-first century. Over this period the context for reuse
and recycling shifted: once widespread, the practices became marginal as mass production developed in the
twentieth century, before returning to importance in recent decades.
Chapter 4, Labor Practices, places attention on the exploitation of garment workers—which has long been
a major ethical issue in the fashion industry. Unsafe or unfair working conditions characterized nineteenth-
and early twentieth-century textile mills and garment factories. Unions were formed to promote fair wages
and healthy work environments in the United States, which improved conditions for some. Yet this prompted
an increase in the outsourcing of production overseas, where pay is likewise low and working conditions are
often dangerous. To combat this, modern strategies include transparency initiatives, cooperatives, and fair
trade agreements.
Chapter 5, Treatment of Animals, considers the debate over the responsible and humane use of animal
products, which today involves discussion of animal welfare, traceability, by-product materials, and cruelty-
free alternatives. Historical insights are provided by focusing on two categories of animal products: fur and
feathers. Feathers were the more controversial animal product during the nineteenth century, but since,
outrage has been directed at the wearing of fur. In both cases, we can observe arguments about the ethics of
using animals for fashion products that still resonate today.
Chapter 6, Fashion Systems, acknowledges the limitations of tackling sustainability problems in an
isolated way and zooms out to take a holistic view. The globalized mainstream fashion system is critically
examined, with a particular focus on the historical development of the capitalist economy within which the
fashion industry operates. Various historical alternatives are then explored in order to understand diverse
approaches to reimagining the status quo. These alternatives include both “genuine” fashion cultures and
systems and unrealized utopian proposals that aimed to instigate fundamentally new ways of practicing
fashion.

7
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Using This Book

This book invites you to explore the historical dimensions of various areas of concern in the field of sustainable
fashion. You might want to gain an understanding of how the fashion industry that we know today has
developed, or to make connections between past and present. You might want to search for inspirational
stories of committed activism that brought about significant change. Along with stories of success you will
encounter cautionary tales: strategies for improving the human and environmental impact of the fashion
system that failed to work, and initiatives whose achievements were undone as the social and economic
context shifted. You may find material here that inspires you to take immediate action; you may find yourself
asking questions that warrant deeper investigation. As Henry Glassie explains, “It is history’s purpose to
preserve things that prompt questions as much as to supply answers that inspire action.”28​
Some of the contemporary examples shared within the book provide indications of how historical
knowledge might inform contemporary activity. In Figure 3.2 we highlight the visible mending movement,
which encourages wearers to make a feature of repairs on their garments, and the trend for people to meet up
to mend together in public. Such making-based social events have a striking resonance with the communal
stitching sessions that have long been common in many cultures. While not directly inspired by these past
practices, knowledge of historical parallels can bring another layer of meaning to this contemporary activity.
In Figure 5.4 we present the doctoral research of designer Naomi Bailey-Cooper, who developed novel
textile embellishments based on the historical and contemporary attraction of fur and exotic animal materials.
As part of her research, Bailey-Cooper studied animal-based artifacts at the Victoria & Albert Museum
archive, using the intimate understandings that she gained to inform her cruelty-free alternatives. Archival
research also played a role in the development of an experimental bio-based nonwoven material, shown in
Figure 1.2. Designers Kay Politowicz and Kate Goldsworthy took inspiration from disposable paper garments
of the 1960s (as discussed in Chapter 2) but sought to address the waste issues associated with these items
through material innovation. The JUMPSUIT project shown in Figure 6.3 provides another example of the
inspiration that can be found by looking at the past. This artist-led counter-fashion initiative makes direct
reference to historical dress reform movements, from the nineteenth-century Rational Dress Society to the
artists of the early Soviet Union who sought a radical new approach to clothing.
These are just a few examples of the endless possibilities for creative action inspired by historical
understandings in the sphere of sustainable fashion; there are many more to be discovered. We hope that
you will be similarly informed and inspired as you explore the diverse selection of examples gathered in the
chapters of this book.

Figure 0.4 An inspirational example of design activity based on historical knowledge can be found in the doctoral re-
search of Matilda Aspinall, which investigated refashioning skills from the mid-eighteenth century to the mid-twentieth
century.29 As part of her research, Aspinall studied a princess-line dress in the archives of the Museum of London. Origi-
nally created in the late eighteenth century, the gown was unpicked and refashioned in the 1840s and again in the 1880s.
(See Chapter 3 for further discussion of refashioning practices during this period.) Aspinall used the refashioning tech-
niques evident in the historical dress to inform a contemporary women’s garment, designed for prolonged life. Embedded
within the initial form of the dress she created is another preconceived design, shown here. The garment’s second form is
released when the wearer follows downloadable instructions for unpicking and reconstruction which are accessed via an
embroidered QR code.

8
10
C hapter 1
MATERIALS AND PROCESSES

Mention sustainable fashion, and many people will immediately think of materials: the stuff from which our
garments are made. For designers, brands, manufacturers, and wearers, material choices are an obvious and
important concern, because the impacts of textile production on the environment are profound. Consider,
for example, the extraction of a fossil fuel—oil—for the production of synthetic fibers and the damaging
microfibers that are released when these fibers are laundered; pesticide use and water scarcity linked to cotton
production; and the many chemicals involved in the dyeing process that contaminate waterways through
unregulated disposal.
It can be difficult to understand the specific impacts of fashion and textile production, partly because
there is a shortage of openly accessible and robust data and partly because tools for measuring impacts often
overlook differences between different production contexts and omit impacts that cannot be easily quantified.
Furthermore, misinformation is rife in the sector: as a recent report by the Transformers Foundation indicates,
“Half-truths, out-of-date information and shocking statistics stripped of context are widely circulated.”1
Countless efforts to develop more sustainable materials and processes are underway, from industry-led
initiatives and ground-breaking academic research projects to explorations led by individuals and micro-
enterprises. A common approach that can be observed across the full fashion spectrum, from high street “eco”
ranges to luxury brands and independent sustainable fashion labels, is the use of fibers that are considered to
have lower environmental impacts. The collection by designer Kate Morris shown in Figure 1.1, for example,
was underpinned by careful research into the impacts of different fibers.
Some initiatives are working to develop alternative materials that reduce or eliminate the issues associated
with existing fibers and fabrics. The experimental paper-textile created by Kay Politowicz, Kate Goldsworthy,
and Hjalmar Granberg shown in Figure 1.2 is one such alternative material. The project aimed to create a
range of wearable papers that could be easily recovered at the end of a short lifetime, either through domestic
paper recycling or industrial composting. Other initiatives are exploring the potential of synthetic biology to
engineer new biodegradable fibers and fabrics.
In terms of dyeing, designers can choose nontoxic processes certified by various industry standards;
researchers are undertaking work to innovate further in problematic areas such as wastewater treatments.
Meanwhile, a wide range of initiatives, both large- and micro-scale, are guiding a return to naturally derived
coloration methods, whether using traditional dyestuffs, food waste, bacterial pigments, or alternative
approaches such as color-grown cotton. Medium, a fashion and home textile design studio led by Riddhi Jain
Satija and based in New Delhi, uses traditional hand-woven fabrics and natural dyes for its garments, as
shown in Figure 1.3—drawing on the rich history of these crafts in India.
This chapter explores the history of the cultivation and production of a selection of fibers, focusing on those
that are especially pertinent to the discussion of sustainable fashion: cotton, wool, rayon, nylon, polyester, and
unconventional materials including PVC and cellophane. We consider the environmental problems that have
developed as the use of these fibers has grown, and examine the emergence of alternatives that are considered
to have lower impacts, including organic cotton, hemp, bamboo, and lyocell. The recycling of fibers, while
mentioned here, is discussed further in Chapter 3. The chapter also explores the historical practices and
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Figure 1.1 For her MA in Fashion Knitwear Design at Nottingham Trent University, Kate Morris created CROP,
a collection of vegan knitwear made from plant-based fibers. She incorporated composition and care advice into the
jacquard patterns in order to promote low-impact laundering. Avoiding the use of separate synthetic labels means that the
entire top can be constructed from just one fiber—organic cotton—to aid eventual recycling.

Figure 1.2 This experimental bio-based nonwoven material is composed of unbleached and unrefined softwood paper
pulp from sustainable forests, PLA (corn starch) staple fibers, and micro-fibrillated cellulose. Designers Kay Politowicz
and Kate Goldsworthy took inspiration from disposable paper garments of the 1960s (discussed in Chapter 2) for this
project—but the material that they engineered with material scientist Hjalmar Granberg has a thermoplastic quality,
enabling many processes not usually possible with paper. It is intended that at the end of a short wear period, the user
would return the top for industrial composting. The rate of decomposition of the material is increased due to the effects
of the finishing techniques used to create performance and aesthetic quality.

12
Materials and Processes

Figure 1.3 The Out of the Blue capsule collection created


by Medium, a New Delhi-based fashion studio, is dyed in
natural indigo using the Japanese traditional craft of shibori.
The collection is based on zero-waste pattern techniques, as
discussed in Chapter 2.

problems associated with dyeing textiles, which were magnified by the advent of industrial production and
the transition from primarily organic dyes to aniline dyes, or synthetic chemical dyes, during the nineteenth
century. By addressing the historical evolution of fabric production and coloration and its impact on the
environment, we can make connections to the corresponding problems faced by the contemporary fashion
and textile industries—as well as the more sustainable solutions proposed in response.

How Did We Get Here?

First, let us examine the development of industrial textile production systems, commencing with the
astounding changes propagated by the Industrial Revolution of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries. Fashion writer M. D. C. Crawford marveled that “within a period of no less than a century a small
group of mechanics . . . had changed methods of spinning and weaving, dyeing, and fabric decoration which
had a previous history of perhaps ten thousand years.”2 These dramatic shifts lay the groundwork for further
technological developments during the twentieth century.

The Development of Cotton

Cotton is one of the most widely used and oldest known fibers. It has been cultivated continuously for at least
5,000 years,3 and its importance to the apparel industry has been a source of inspiration, innovation, and
political conflict. In the period up to 1500 CE, India was the largest producer of cotton cloth in the world,
with its products known and appreciated in many countries via developing trade routes.4 Since raw cotton was

13
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

not a natural resource in Europe—meaning its importation was necessary—it took hundreds of years for the
fiber to become an integral part of European fashion.5 Once cotton took hold in Europe in the late seventeenth
century, it was used extensively and by the early nineteenth century, Europe had become established as the
main location of cotton textile production.6 Cotton was especially revered for its “chameleon-like” quality,
meaning that it could be used in some ways like linen, and in other ways like lightweight wools or silks.7
Imports of fine Indian cotton, in particular, were easily cleaned and cared for, could be beautifully printed or
painted, and were fine enough to be pleated and draped.8 Throughout most of the eighteenth century, much
of the raw cotton used in Europe was shipped from the West Indies and the eastern Mediterranean, until the
United States began to export cotton at the century’s end.9 Cotton’s popularity was enhanced by its relatively
inexpensive production, largely due to the use of enslaved labor trafficked from Africa into the West Indies
and the United States.
In addition to providing raw fiber for the national and international market, the United States made another
vital contribution to cotton production at the end of the eighteenth century: the invention of the cotton gin.
Patented in 1793 by Eli Whitney, the cotton gin was said to have unlocked “the imprisoned resources of
the South”10 through the mechanical separation of the sticky cotton fiber from its seeds—a task that was
previously completed by hand, and in the southern regions of North America, typically performed by slaves.
Whereas a skilled picker could get through one pound of cotton per day, an average of fifty pounds could be
completed in the same amount of time using the cotton gin. As Whitney himself wrote of his invention, “this
machine may be turned by water or with a horse, with the greatest ease, and one man and a horse will do more
than fifty men with the old machines. It makes the labor fifty times less, without throwing any class of People
out of business.”11 The impact of Whitney’s invention was profound: in 1791, a reported 2 million pounds of
cotton were produced in the United States. By 1860, that number had leaped up to 1,650 million pounds.12
Not surprisingly, the use of cotton was greater than that of any other fiber in the mid-nineteenth century and
comprised almost 70 percent of all textiles produced in the United States.13 The seemingly insatiable desire for
cotton only continued to expand. In 1900, US consumers purchased around 3.4 million tons of fabric, which
consisted of approximately 25 percent wool and 75 percent cotton.14​
Cotton is a natural fiber, meaning its growth is easily hindered by conditions such as pests, drought, and
an overly rainy season. In an 1854 article in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, the author mentioned just a
few of the challenges faced by cotton farmers: the “rust” and “rot” of cotton plants in the wet season, which
was often followed by an infestation of worms, and the devastating invasion of army-worms, which could eat
an entire crop in a matter of hours. “They seem to spring out of the ground, and fall from the clouds,”15 he
wrote despairingly. It was clear that ways to counteract pests were crucial to meeting (or exceeding) the high
demand for cotton—and thus began the use of chemical pesticides in the twentieth century.
Pesticides—a term that encompasses fungicides, herbicides, and insecticides—are used to deter pests and
weeds. Heavy usage of pesticides has enabled the amount of cotton grown to triple in the past eighty years,
yet the percentage of land dedicated to cotton farming has scarcely expanded. This has resulted in a variety
of serious environmental crises, such as reduced soil fertility, loss of biodiversity, and life-threatening health
problems for those who have been exposed repeatedly to the toxic chemicals used in pesticides.16 Awareness
of the hazards surrounding the use of pesticides is not new—Rachel Carson specifically mentioned them in
Silent Spring in 1962. In addition to the pesticides often deemed necessary, problems arise in relation to the
volumes of water needed for cotton production. Although cotton is a drought-tolerant plant, when grown
in water-stressed areas, the crop can contribute to water scarcity.17 Around half of the land under cotton
cultivation requires irrigation, with the quantities of water drawn down varying according to agricultural
practices and climate.18 The diversion of water away from its original source, in order to provide for cotton
farming, can wreak great ecological harm.

14
Materials and Processes

Figure 1.4 The cotton gin, patented by Eli Whitney in 1793, transformed the processing of cotton fiber. This
engraving depicts enslaved African people picking the cotton and using the gin, while white land-owners inspect
the processed fiber.

Wool and Its Competitors

Like cotton, wool has a long history: its cultivation can be traced back over 6,000 years.19 Wool is a remarkable
fiber. It acts as a natural insulator, can keep the body warm or cool as necessary, and repels dirt, stains, and
water. It has also proven to be extremely versatile and durable.20 Historically, wool was cotton’s greatest rival,
and both fibers were suited to a variety of apparel types. While cotton reigned as the most common plant-
derived fiber, wool was the predominant animal-derived fiber.
In eighteenth-century England, especially, wool production was a crucial component of the nation’s
economy. People of all classes in England wore domestically produced wool garments in the early part
of the century,21 and woolen fabrics were available in varying qualities and blends, such as wool and
silk or wool and linen.22 Although imports of cotton fabric gradually challenged wool’s importance
to English fashion, wool production continued to rise. From 1721 to 1774, the amount of wool cloth
shipped to the United States from England increased by over 500 percent, a number that exceeded
the rise of the US population.23 Over 800 new mills opened in England between 1835 and 1874, and
employment in woolen mills rose from just under 53,000 to nearly 139,000 persons.24 By the nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries, New England had itself become established as an important hub for wool
production. Although cotton was increasingly used for blankets, summer suitings, and other items that
had previously relied on wool,25 American production of wool fiber continued to expand into the 1920s.
As the twentieth century progressed, however, wool began to face another serious competitor: man-
made fibers. By the 1950s, a US study showed that Orlon, an acrylic fiber, was used more often for winter
sweaters than wool.26 Synthetic fibers were especially popular among young people and were liked for being

15
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

easier to wash and care for than natural materials.27 In an attempt to counteract the encroaching dominance
of synthetics, the Woolmark campaign was launched by the International Wool Secretariat in 1964, touting
natural virgin wool as a superior fiber. Woolmark ads featured the tagline “People who have everything
wear wool,” and promoted the quality of woolen clothing. The campaign must have been somewhat
effective, as wool production did increase over the course of the 1970s and into the 1980s, particularly in
developing nations and the United States. Yet in 1985 synthetic fiber production remained, on average, over
twenty times that of wool.28 Today, the wool industry represents only about 1 percent of fiber production
worldwide.29

Silk and Rayon


Silk, which is produced from the cocoons of the silkworm, is another fiber with a long history: its cultivation
began nearly seven thousand years ago in China. Historian Mary Schoeser argues that silk shaped world
history, with centuries of global trade leading to the transmission of designs, technologies, and ideologies.30
Silk has extraordinary properties: its smooth, fine filaments are extremely strong and lightweight and can
measure up to 1500 yards in length. The fiber can carry vivid color, wicks moisture, and dries quickly.31 Thanks
to these characteristics, silk has long been used as a symbol of luxury, with its use at times restricted to royalty
and the aristocracy.32
In the usual method of production, the cocoons are steamed to kill the grub inside, as otherwise the
filament would be damaged.33 An alternative method, known as tussah silk, involves the collection of cocoons
after the silk moth has emerged naturally. This method produces shorter lengths of silk fiber, which is then
spun in a similar way to other fibers.34
Rayon, the first commercially produced man-made fiber, was patented in 1892 by a British chemist
named Charles Cross and his associates.35 The fiber, also known as viscose, was conceived and initially
marketed as a substitute for silk, which was notoriously difficult and costly to produce. Several of the
positive attributes of silk—including its luster, handle, and drape—can be mimicked with the rayon
fiber, which also takes well to various dyes and finishes. In addition, rayon was stronger than silk and—
most importantly—inexpensive. In the early 1920s, raw silk cost US$8.65 a pound, whereas rayon cost
just US$2.80 per pound.36 However, the carbon disulfide required for rayon production is highly toxic.
According to occupational health expert Paul David Blanc, “Throughout most of the twentieth century,
viscose rayon manufacturing was inextricably linked to widespread, severe, and often lethal illness among
those employed in making it.”37
Despite these problems, many inexpensive, mass-produced clothes began to be made using rayon fabrics.
The Viscose Company, a New York-based manufacturer, reported that fiber production rose from 350,000
pounds in 1911 to 28,000,000 pounds in 1924.38 That was an incredible eighty-fold increase in just over a
decade—and yet the company still struggled to keep up with demand. “There is hardly an end to the myriad
ways in which rayon serves you,” claimed an ad for Drecoll rayon in 1928. “It is made into apparel of every
kind, from dainty lingerie to formal evening gowns.”39​
By the late 1920s, the production and use of rayon had expanded beyond inexpensive clothing styles,
and a number of couturiers began to work with the fiber for their designs. Elsa Schiaparelli, in particular,
was known for her close association with several textile manufacturers. As curator Dilys Blum wrote in
her extensive monograph on Schiaparelli’s work: “In Schiaparelli’s hands synthetic fabrics became chic,
and she was credited with making rayon fashionable by using unique weaves that took on the appearance
of wools, linens, or silks but still retained the distinctive draping quality that was one of the fabric’s
greatest assets.”41

16
Materials and Processes

Figure 1.5 This unlabelled day dress provides an example of the


basic yet stylish clothing that was most often associated with
rayon in the 1920s. Sears featured similar rayon dresses in its
1928 catalog, which ranged in price from US$0.98 to $3.89.40
The dress was knit in the simple, tubular silhouette of the era,
from a blend of rayon and cotton yarns dyed a vibrant shade of
orange. The ruffles applied to the front of the dress, as well as
the piping at the neckline and pockets, were made from printed
cotton. Dress, orange rayon/cotton blend, multicolored floral
cotton, c. 1926, USA. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 80.50.2.
Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Easton.

Rayon is an especially interesting fiber in relation to its environmental impact. It is classified as a man-
made fiber, rather than a synthetic, meaning that it is chemically produced from cellulose (a substance derived
from the cell walls of plants). Easily grown trees, such as beech, allow cellulose to be generated with relatively
little ecological impact. In addition, because rayon is derived from a natural material, it is biodegradable.
Nevertheless, rayon production is highly energy-intensive, and far from eco-friendly. It requires that wood
be ground into pulp and spun—a process that requires multiple trips around the rayon factory. The energy
needed to run such large factories is vast. Furthermore, the production of rayon is exceptionally polluting to
both air and water, as well as people.42

Synthetic Fibers

The success of rayon led to the development of other artificial fibers in the first half of the twentieth
century. “The rapid increase in materials with new and strange names appearing from season to season
sometimes makes choice bewildering. New fibers, new weaves, new finishes are constantly changing the
appearance and feel of fabrics,”43 lamented the author of a 1940 clothing handbook for women. Just two
years before, Du Pont had introduced the first fully synthetic, “miracle” fiber, nylon. Dr. Charles Stine,
one of the chemists involved with nylon’s invention, spoke of the merits of his new fiber for the New
York Herald Tribune Forum in 1938: “Nylon can be fashioned into filaments as strong as steel, as fine
as the spider’s web, yet more elastic than any of the common natural fibers and possessing a beautiful
chemical luster.”44

17
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

The fiber’s qualities were especially well suited to women’s hosiery, which was made commercially available
in 1939. Nylon hosiery was worn in place of delicate, more costly silk stockings, and it was an immediate
success. Foundation garments made from nylon soon followed. With the advent of the Second World War,
however, nylon became an essential material for products such as parachutes and tents.45 Therefore, the
manufacture of nylon hosiery ceased during the war years but began again immediately following the war.
Between 1947 and 1952, shipments of nylon fabric increased from 25.4 million to 134.1 million pounds.46 As
the nylon fiber proved to be remarkably versatile—it could be made to resemble anything from silk satin to
wool47—its use for clothing also expanded during that time. In 1954 a survey conducted by the US Department
of Agriculture indicated that nylon was the most widely known synthetic fiber and that it was praised for its
laundering qualities and durability.48​
The idea of “wash and wear” clothing was developed in the 1950s. Such garments were made from a variety
of synthetic fibers, including acrylic, polyester, and nylon. Sales of wash and wear suits, as shown in Figure 1.7,
rose from 1,200 in 1952 to 2,000,000 in 1958, meaning that they came to account for approximately one-third
of suit sales overall in the United States.50 These suits were easy to launder (whereas suits from traditional
materials required dry-cleaning), and they dried easily. Wash and wear clothing remained popular through
the 1960s; according to a study in 1968, 73 percent of American women surveyed owned at least one garment
made from wash and wear fabric.51

Figure 1.6 In 1950 Claire McCardell, a premier American sportswear designer, introduced this Grecian-style evening
dress made from white nylon tricot, printed with a pattern of red roses. McCardell was known for using materials that
were inexpensive, washable, and generally easy to care for, such as humble cotton or wool fabrics. The nylon fabric used
for this dress was typically relegated to the lingerie market, but in her hands, its use resulted in “subtly sexy evening wear
designs” that could “hold their own against dresses costing ten times as much.”49 Claire McCardell, evening dress, white
printed nylon, 1950, USA. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 72.61.182.

18
Materials and Processes

Figure 1.7 This man’s suit was constructed from grey seersucker
nylon fabric by a company that was actually called “Wash ‘N’ Wear.”
Many wash and wear fabrics were promoted for their resistance to
wrinkles—although that claim was not always entirely accurate, as
evidenced by the appearance of this suit. Wash N’ Wear, man’s suit,
grey nylon seersucker, c. 1959, USA. Collection of The Museum at
FIT, P88.80.1.

Nylon’s wrinkle-resistant qualities reduce the need for routine ironing, which saves a great deal of
energy over a garment’s wearable life. The production of nylon fiber, however, is especially harmful to
the environment. Nylon relies on petroleum oil, which is a non-renewable resource; its location and
extraction are incredibly taxing on the environment. The manufacture of nylon is a highly energy-intensive
process and also generates nitrous oxide, a potent greenhouse gas. Even in small amounts, nitrous oxide
is a dangerous contributor to global climate change.52 Although nylon can be recycled, much of the fiber
ends up in landfills, where it will take hundreds of years to decompose. Nylon production has been in
decline since the late 1960s, however, when polyester came to dominate the synthetic fiber market. Today,
its primary usage is for carpeting and many home fabrics, as well as some hosiery, sportswear, and sporting
equipment.53
Nylon paved the way for the development of a host of other synthetic fibers, including polyester, which was
patented in 1941. Polyester was used for clothing by the 1950s, but it was not immediately popular. In addition
to having to compete with more established synthetic fibers—especially nylon and acrylic—there were notable
issues with early versions of polyester fabric. Excessive static during processing, difficulty with dyeing, and
oily soiling were just a few of the numerous problems reported.54 As the quality of polyester increased over
time, however, it came to be used more frequently, and it began to displace cotton. By 1968, the production of
synthetics had surpassed that of natural fibers,55 and polyester was in the greatest demand. “Polyester Emerges
from the Shadow of Nylon,” proclaimed a New York Times headline that same year.56 Similar to rayon and nylon,
polyester was an inexpensive fiber, and it ultimately came to be ubiquitous for both low- and high-end fashions.
In recent years, polyester has been a topic of frequent discussion in the fashion industry, due in large part to the
volume at which it is currently produced. While polyester has long dominated the market for man-made textiles,
it accounted for more than 50 percent of total fiber production in 201957 and has been described as “the backbone
of fast fashion.”58

19
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Like nylon, polyester is made from petroleum oil and therefore carries the same devastating impacts
in terms of extraction. The production process is highly energy-intensive and produces emissions with
“a medium to high potential of causing environmental damage if discharged untreated.”59 In recent
years awareness of the impacts of microfiber pollution—linked with synthetic fibers and especially
polyester, due to its widespread use—has grown rapidly. These microscopic fibers are shed from
clothing, particularly during laundering: a single wash cycle has been found to release an average of
9 million microfibers.60 There is evidence that microfibers, which are small enough for organisms to
ingest and are often contaminated with harmful chemicals, are damaging ocean ecosystems. They have
even been found in the placentas of unborn babies, and the consequences for human health are not yet
understood.61
Despite these significant problems, some positive qualities of polyester production can be identified.
The fiber is strong, easy to care for, and wrinkle resistant. Furthermore, it does not absorb moisture,
reducing the need for machine drying after laundering. The polyester fiber can also be recycled—
although the vast majority of recycled polyester clothing is made from PET bottles, rather than used
clothes (see Chapter 3 for more information).62 Polyester is typically scored highly by industry-run
indexes that rank fibers according to their environmental impacts, partly because its production process
is considered to use little water in comparison with cotton.63 However, this assumption has recently been
challenged by research indicating that the water footprint of polyester can, in fact, be as much as seven
times that of cotton.64

Unconventional Materials

Many man-made or synthetic fibers were developed to mimic or improve upon natural materials. Others
were not initially intended for use in fashion, and have appealed primarily for their novelty. Cellophane,
for example, was developed in the early twentieth century as a packaging product, but its light weight
and shimmer proved intriguing to fashion designers and wearers alike. The material was named for
the primary component from which it was made: cellulose. Woven strips of cellophane could be used
in place of straw—making the material an especially popular choice for millinery—but it was also
woven into other fabrics and used for clothing, especially in the 1920s and 1930s. Not surprisingly, the
cellophane production process was similar to that of rayon, meaning that it was both energy-intensive
and polluting.65​
Polyvinyl Chloride (PVC) was discovered by accident in 1926 when a scientist working for B. F. Goodrich
was attempting to develop synthetic rubber. The material was soon applied to outerwear, such as raincoats
and umbrellas.66 In the 1960s, shiny vinyl materials had a desirably “Space Age” appearance that furthered
their appeal. British designer Mary Quant was among the first to experiment with PVC in her 1963 “Wet
Collection,” but technical problems surrounding the application of the material for fashion took her nearly
two years to resolve. As the designer recalled in her autobiography, Quant by Quant, “by that time other
designers on both sides of the Channel were as bewitched as I still am with this super-shiny man-made stuff
and its shrieking colors.”67
While the vinyl clothing of the 1960s was soon displaced by the more “natural” look of the hippies, the
material did not disappear from fashion. PVC and other plastics remain in common use, especially for
inexpensive handbags and shoes. In spite of their sleek look, however, it is now known that plastics are
highly carcinogenic, and their production relies on petrochemicals. Furthermore, plastics can gradually
release toxic chemicals that leak into the ecosystem while they biodegrade—a process that will take
hundreds of years.​

20
Materials and Processes

Figure 1.8 In 1934 Lucien Lelong, a leading French couturier renowned


for his exquisite taste and sense of modernity, used cellophane in designs
including this elegant evening cape. The design of the cape itself was simple,
allowing all focus to be on the shimmery effect of the dark blue cellophane
strips, attached to a silk tulle backing fabric. Lucien Lelong, evening cape,
dark blue cellophane, navy tulle, 1934, France. Collection of The Museum
at FIT, 76.196.30. Gift of Fernanda Munn Kellogg.

Figure 1.9 This couture dress by André Courrèges features an


interesting mix of immaculate construction techniques and materials.
The “openwork” effect is created from hand-stitched pieces of pale
silk and black chiffon, with cutout trim in black vinyl. Vinyl was an
inexpensive, “futuristic” material, embraced for its overtly synthetic
appearance. Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green (The
Museum at FIT, 2010). André Courrèges, dress, black vinyl, black
chiffon, pale silk, c. 1967, France. Collection of The Museum at FIT,
86.49.8. Gift of Sylvia Slifka.

21
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

The Invention of Synthetic Dyes

The impacts of textile production are not limited to the fibers themselves: coloration and patterning carry
their own environmental implications. While we will focus on the impacts of dyes, it is important to note
that by the time dyeing occurs, a yarn or a fabric may have been through various stages of pretreatment and
processing such as cleaning or bleaching, which also cause chemical impacts on the environment.
Prior to the mid-nineteenth century, that is, for most of human history, dyeing was done using organic
materials gathered from plants, insects, or minerals. For instance, the plant madder and the insect cochineal
were common sources of the color red; indigo or woad, both plant-based, provided blue; and the safflower plant
was culled to provide yellow coloring. Dyestuffs were mostly determined by local availability, and generally
speaking, waste was localized and produced on a far smaller scale than production using the synthetic dyes
that were to follow.​
During the mid-nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, dyes began to be synthesized from
chemical sources, a revolutionary change to the clothing and textile dyeing industry. Interestingly, the
first commercially successful synthetic, or aniline, fabric dye was an accidental innovation. In 1856,
chemist William Henry Perkin derived mauveine dye from coal tar during an experiment, in which

Figure 1.10 The multicolor zigzag pattern on this dress was achieved
through an industrial process that was new in the 1820s, roller printing.
This process enables the creation of intricate, multicolored patterns much
less expensively than hand block or engraved copper plate printing.68
Although the dress’s production process was modern, its dyes certainly
were not: its comparatively subdued green, yellow, and red color palette was
created using natural dyes. It would be another three decades before the
introduction of synthetic dyes. Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going
Green (The Museum at FIT, 2010). Dress and pelerine, green, yellow, and
red roller-printed cotton, c. 1821, England. Collection of The Museum at
FIT, P83.32.2. Museum purchase.

22
Materials and Processes

he had sought to create a synthetic version of the natural compound quinine. Perkin instead found
himself with an entirely different product, which through additional testing produced his soon-to-be-
famous mauve dye.69 Mauveine was unlike anything the public had seen, its brilliance unmatched by
any natural dye.​
Perkin’s mauveine transformed dyeing, paving the way for an influx of synthetic dyes that produced
bold, vivid colors. Perkin solved the logistics of commercial development of synthetic dye, and as he
said in 1868, “to introduce a new coal-tar colour after the mauve was a comparatively simple matter.”70
As the century progressed, new dyes were developed and marketed, one after another; magentas, reds,
greens, and finally blues—the possibilities seemed endless. The dyeing industry developed rapidly, with
chemical “coal tar colors” displacing dyes from plant, insect, and mineral sources at textile production
centers around the world. “The use of natural colors in dyeing is disappearing year by year and artificial
products from coal tar are steadily and surely taking their place. Nearly every color has been found to
lurk in that black and uninviting substance called pitch or tar,” reported the New York Times in 1893.71
What made the new dyes so attractive, apart from the brilliance of the colors they produced, was that
they were cost-effective. One pound of the red dye synthetic alizarin, reported the New York Times in
1915, equaled “the coloring power of ninety pounds of madder.”72 Despite these dramatic changes in
dyeing practices, it is important to note that uptake of chemical dyes was uneven. In some regions,
traditional practices have persisted to the present day and are now protected as intangible cultural
heritage.

Human Impacts of Dyeing

Although the march of aniline dyes, with their inexpensive and radiant colors, continued undeterred
through the latter half of the nineteenth century, their potentially toxic chemical makeup became a point of
concern. Scholar P. W. J. Bartrip, who studied arsenic in the Victorian environment, has written that during
that era, “Any manufactured item coloured green was as likely as not to have been dyed with arsenic.”73 Dr.
Alfred Swaine Taylor discussed these “arsenite of copper” pigments in an 1875 publication, confirming the
widespread use of the dyes in fashion, particularly for artificial flowers and a thin cotton fabric called tarlatan,
and warned of the dangers of arsenic poisoning.74 Health risks to the textile worker as well as the wearer
ranged from skin irritation to poisoning from inhalation of dust or fumes, although some experts felt that the
most common method of transmission for the poison from fabric was through the skin.75 “Girls employed in
this manufacture, as well as dressmakers, suffer seriously from this form of poisoning,” wrote Taylor, which
harmed their eyes and respiratory systems.76
While green dye was the most notorious, it should be noted that a great many other aniline dyes also
contained arsenic. In 1878, a reporter from Fraser’s Magazine observed the vast quantities of arsenic at a mine
that supplied the chemical to the dye industry. He wrote, “More than 2,000 tons a year are sent out from this
one mine, to be used mainly in those brilliant modern dyes by which our women can dazzle the sunshine
at cheap expense.” He was discomfited by the toxin’s presence, and also unable to answer the basic question:
“Is it safe to wear?” Experts had reached no consensus. However, the author noted one of the reasons that
arsenic was so potentially dangerous: it could pass undetected.77 Poisoning could happen slowly without the
awareness of its victim, which surely should have been a red flag in its use in products so intimately connected
to the body.
As time went on, evidence mounted against the safety of working with or wearing clothing dyed with
arsenic compounds. The Bureau of Chemistry within the US Department of Agriculture undertook a study
that tried to quantify the arsenic problem. Red, black, and green dyes seemed to be the biggest offenders,

23
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Figure 1.11 This black and bright purple silk taffeta dress, colored using the new chemical synthetic dyes developed by
William Henry Perkin from coal tar, dates from c. 1860. It demonstrates the brightness of synthetic dyes, and their color-
fastness: over 150 years after it was produced, the fabric still retains a marked intensity of color. Dress, purple and black
striped silk taffeta, c. 1860, England. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 2006.43.1. Museum purchase.

however: “the presence of large amounts of arsenic does not seem to be confined to any particular class of
goods, since those containing the largest amounts include calicos, cashmeres, outing flannels, ducks, mohairs,
and flannelets.”78 In all, 11 percent of the fabrics they tested contained a significant amount of the poison.79
Yet arsenic was not alone in the dangerous chemicals employed in dyeing, and the danger was especially
great for the workers in dye factories. As early as 1895 there was speculation, based on illnesses of workers
in aniline dye factories, that components of chemical dyes could be carcinogenic80—a concern that has
not abated in the contemporary industry. In 1868, when Perkin delivered lectures for the Society for the
Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, he made mention of one of the contemporary
methods of manufacturing magenta dye, which included the use of mercury. Although “with care this process
works very well, and the colouring matter produced is of good quality,” he admitted, “the use of mercury salts
is most undesirable on account of their fearfully deleterious influence upon the workmen.”81 Many years later,
a 1921 Labor Department publication examined the potential effects of aniline dyes on workers, determining
that both fumes and skin contact could be problematic.82 As they explained, coal-tar dyes contained a number
of chemical compounds, not just arsenic, which could affect the skin, nervous system, and blood.83
The harmfulness of particular dyes is sometimes recognized only in hindsight. Another type of
chemical dye, azo, first hit the market about a decade after Perkin discovered mauveine.84 In 1921, Dr.
Alice Hamilton, writing under the auspices of the US Department of Labor, declared, “the making of azo

24
Materials and Processes

dyes . . . the safest branch of the color industry.”85 Yet azo dyes are a serious worry for many contemporary
scientists and conservationists, as under certain conditions some may have carcinogenic properties as
they chemically decompose.86 As a result, their use is regulated and/or prohibited in many places,87
but they continue to appeal to producers now, as they did then, because of their efficiency and color-
fastness.88

Environmental Impacts of Dyeing

At the time of their development, aniline dyes were praised not just for their modernity and beautiful hues, but
also because the coal tar they utilized was waste material, and by all accounts one that was nasty, foul-smelling,
and difficult to dispose of. However, while repurposing waste products can be a good thing ecologically,
aniline dyes still had significant drawbacks in terms of environmental impacts.
The type of dye, as well as the process used, can yield vastly different mixtures and quantities, at various
degrees of toxicity. As reported in a 1930s publication on textile pollution: “Textile waste liquors range
from almost harmless to very toxic and putrescible mixtures.”89 Although dye waste can be a highly
visible effluent in lakes, oceans, and rivers, what is unseen can be equally, if not more, harmful. As scholar
Anthony S. Travis noted in his study of dye pollution in Basel, Switzerland, during the 1860s: “Compared
with eyesores such as stagnant or dye-coloured streams and clouds of choking gas in industrial districts,
subsurface water was certainly out of sight if not completely out of mind.”90 Drawing from Swiss archival
documents, Travis explored the link between a dye plant, J. J. Müller-Pack and Company, and soil and
groundwater contamination with toxins, including arsenic, from the dye-making process.91 Poisoned
well water extended the risks of aniline dye production from the workers in the plant to the surrounding
environment and those who called it home.92 Rachel Carson explained why groundwater pollution was
so worrisome: virtually “all the running water of the earth’s surface was at one time groundwater . . . so,
in a very real and frightening sense, pollution of the groundwater is pollution of water everywhere.”93 The
events described in Basel played out shortly after the first aniline dyes were discovered and had begun to be
industrially manufactured, providing evidence that the danger of dumping dye effluent into water sources
was evident early on.
In fairness, wastewater from dyes is a troublesome predicament to address and always has been. A 1930s
study conducted by the Textile Foundation, Inc. in Washington, DC, noted: “The textile waste treatment
problem is more complex than many other industrial waste purification problems because of the fact that no
two textile wastes are alike in character, nor can any two wastes be purified by exactly the same treatment.”94
Not only that, “the waste . . . continually changes with the introduction of new processes or the change in
market demands,”95 hinting at the historical precedent of a problem that has since only grown with the
increased speed of the fashion cycle. In a 1969 publication on the modern factory, George M. Price reasoned
as to why dye and other industrial wastes so frequently ended up in the earth’s waterways: it was the practice
that caused the manufacturer the least expense.96
Although the primary target of her consternation was chemical pesticides, Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring
issued a caution about how we treat our earth, its waterways, and the damage that repeated and prolonged
chemical exposure can wreak on animals and humans alike. “In this now universal contamination of the
environment, chemicals are the sinister and little recognized partner of radiation in changing the very nature
of the world—the very nature of its life,” she wrote.98 Yet as we have seen, even prior to the pesticides that
so concerned Carson, we were polluting our water with a multitude of chemicals, visible and otherwise,
generated in the production of clothing and textiles.​

25
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Figure 1.12 The patterning on this day dress,


created by designer Sophie, was achieved through
discharge printing: the dress was first dyed and then
selectively treated with a bleaching agent to create
the floral design. This process, with the dye baths and
chemicals it requires, is especially environmentally
harmful.97 Sophie, dress and sweater set, black silk
twill with discharge floral print, cashmere, c. 1950,
USA. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 75.77.1. Gift
of Mrs. Herbert Berg and Mr. Leon Berg.

Inspiration for Change

Having considered the historical evolution of textile production and fabric dyeing and the environmental
impacts of these processes, we can now move on to examine the emergence of strategies to address these
impacts. While efforts to deal with the toxic effects of chemical dyes can be traced back well over a century,
the development of broader initiatives to select “better” materials in response to environmental concerns is
much more recent.

Organic Cotton

The grave concerns about the environmental impacts of cotton production led to the development of one of
sustainable fashion’s most recognized fibers: organic cotton. The fiber was first grown in the United States
and Turkey in the late 1980s, followed by Egypt, Uganda, India, and Peru.99 It began to be marketed in the
following decade, in correspondence to other “eco-friendly” fashion trends, such as recycled clothing. Organic
cotton was not an immediate success—due in large part to its relatively high cost—but it has now become a
popular choice of material for sustainable fashion. For some companies, offering clothing with an organic

26
Materials and Processes

label is a relatively easy way to assert themselves as “eco-friendly” (a concept that is sometimes referred to as
greenwashing). For others, the selection of sustainable fabric is just one of a number of conscientious designs
and business practices.
Various characteristics of organic cotton have placed it at the forefront of sustainable fabrics. First and
foremost, organic cotton is highly saleable: physical differences between organically grown and traditionally
grown cotton are scarcely perceived, meaning that organic cotton has found easy acceptance among
designers and wearers. Furthermore, its impact on the environment is much less than that of traditional
cotton, as organic cotton farming prohibits the use of chemical pesticides and fertilizers. Natural enemies
are introduced to crops to rid them of unwanted pests instead. To counteract the depletion of soil nutrients,
organic farmers rely on crop rotation, which helps to enrich the soil.100 Farmers who grow organic cotton
also receive higher incomes—reportedly as much as 50 percent more than that of their peers who farm non-
organically.101
In spite of the many positive attributes of organic cotton, it is not a “perfect” fiber choice. Although
the production of cotton requires relatively little energy, all cotton—whether conventionally grown
or organic—requires cleaning. The cleaning process involves desizing, scouring, and bleaching, using
chemicals that are usually toxic. The fiber is limited in quantity, due in part to the way in which it is
grown—yields of organic cotton tend to be 20–50 percent lower than those of their pesticide-enhanced
counterparts102, and the fiber made up less than 1 percent of the overall amount of cotton grown in
2019.103 While organic cotton is often lauded as an ideal sustainable choice, its current output simply
cannot meet demand. In addition, the fiber’s designation as organic often ends at harvest, without
accounting for further stages of its life cycle—many of which are not sustainable.104 Nevertheless, organic
cotton production is in many ways being viewed as a model—or perhaps more aptly, an experiment—
of a “regenerative” approach to fiber production, which can improve the health of the agricultural
ecosystem.105
Organic cotton has been a well-known commodity in the apparel market for a number of years: huge
companies such as Nike, Wal-Mart, and Woolworths have all become known for their usage of fiber. In
addition, a number of high-fashion designers have helped to popularize the use of organic cotton by
including it in their collections. John Patrick—who had years of experience working in the conventional
fashion industry—began making his name as a sustainable fashion designer in 2003, when a friend writing
for Organic Style Magazine asked him to make something to feature in one of her articles. The resulting
design was an apron made from organic cotton canvas, and it received an outpouring of interest. It was
at that point that the designer realized he could “incorporate a lot of things that didn’t fit into fashion
and design, make them, tell a story, and do the right thing.”106 Although Patrick takes an ethical approach
to design overall (also working with collectives, for example), the selection of sustainable materials is
especially crucial to his work. His interest in organic cotton, in particular, led him to Peru, where he
learned firsthand how the fiber was planted and grown.107​
Alongside organic cotton, there are other types of cotton to be considered that each has both positive and
negative attributes. Naturally colored cotton, for example, is cultivated to eliminate the need for bleaching and
dyeing the fiber and can be grown in shades of brown, green, and red. Color-grown cotton was commonly
grown prior to the industrial era; its rediscovery in recent decades has been led by farmer Sally Fox.108 Over
the past two decades, genetically modified cotton has been developed with the aim of reducing the need
for pesticides and has been in use in large cotton-producing countries including Australia, China, and the
United States. The Fairtrade standard for seed cotton, which assures that workers at the very beginning of
the production chain are paid fairly for their labor, was established in 2004.110 In 2018–19, 65 percent of all
Fairtrade cotton was also certified as organic.111

27
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Figure 1.13 This Organic by John Patrick dress was fashioned from organic cotton shirting fabric in pale blue and white
stripes. Patrick worked with the Peruvian textiles company Creditex, which is dedicated to ethical practices, for a year
to have the fabric manufactured to his specifications.109 The fabric used for the white blouse is manufactured by Avanti,
a Japanese company that began working with organic cotton in 1990. Installation shot from Eco-Fashion: Going Green
(The Museum at FIT, 2010). Organic by John Patrick, shirt and jumper, white Japanese organic cotton mesh, light blue
and white organic cotton shirting, Spring 2009, USA. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 2010.43.1. Gift of John Patrick.

The Resurgence of Wool


In correspondence to the rise of the sustainable fashion movement, wool is being reevaluated for its potential
viability as an eco-friendly fiber. Wool is naturally occurring, renewable, and taken from an animal that can
thrive on land unsuited to farming—thus leaving arable soil elsewhere for vegetable, fruit, and grain crops. In
addition, it is reported that sheep help to fertilize the soil they graze upon.112 More specifically, studies by the
Australian-based Wool Carbon Alliance have found that “wool fiber production systems, based on renewable
grass and natural vegetation, complement current demands to reduce carbon emissions.”113 Wool is also fully
biodegradable.114
Much like cotton production, pesticides came to be used for wool over the course of the twentieth century—
albeit in significantly smaller quantities. The sheep can be dipped in pesticide baths, or they may be injected
with pesticides to deter parasites. These pesticides can be hazardous to farmers’ health and can also pollute
water supplies.115 The practice of “mulesing”—the removal of wool-bearing skin from the tail and breech area
of some breeds of sheep—is a contentious ethical issue. Although mulesing is carried out to prevent flystrike
infection by blowfly larvae, which is fatal if untreated, it is a painful procedure that affects the animals’ welfare.
Campaigners have called for mulesing to be banned and for farmers to focus on breeding flystrike-resistant
sheep.116

28
Materials and Processes

Figure 1.14 Danish luxury label Noir, founded in 2005 by Peter Ingwersen, was notable for its use of organic materials.
From 2009 its fabrics were produced by a sister organic and fair trade cotton brand, Illuminati II, based in Uganda.
This evening dress exemplifies the label’s goal to fuse sexy, cutting-edge design with sustainable materials and corporate
social responsibility. Noir (Peter Ingwersen), evening dress, black Illuminati II cotton, silver-studded leather, Fall 2010,
Denmark. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 2010.11.1. Gift of NOIR.

Another environmental issue associated with wool production is the need for raw wool to be scoured, a
task that removes dirt and the natural grease that the sheep deposit in their wool. While the grease by-product
is often refined and used as lanolin for cosmetics and soaps, it frequently contains residual pesticides.117 Finally,
the total life cycle of wool must be considered—it is typically a material that cannot be easily laundered, and
garments are thus often labeled as dry-clean-only, a process with its own environmental repercussions.118
The introduction of organic wool, which does not use pesticides or mulesing, has provided a new
sustainable fiber option in recent years. Its production is carefully monitored for nontoxic and compassionate
cultivation.119 Stella McCartney has used organic wool, including some from sheep raised at her own farm
in the Cotswolds, England, to create her designs.120 The use of organic wool by this high-profile designer has
helped the fiber to gain recognition, but production of organic wool is still extremely limited. In 2019, less
than 1 percent of the wool produced globally was organic.121 Other wool certification initiatives, such as the
Responsible Wool Standard, focus on animal welfare and the protection of grazing land.122

Hemp and Flax

The use of hemp fiber dates back at least 6,000 years. Alongside flax, hemp prevailed over fiber production in
Asia, Europe, and North America during the eighteenth century.123 As cotton eventually proved cheaper and
easier to harvest, however, hemp slowly began to lose its dominance. The fiber’s decline was aggravated by

29
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

its prohibition in the United States and Western Europe (excluding France) around the Second World War,
for its association with marijuana.124 Hemp’s lack of popularity has been due in large part to that association,
despite the fact that the industrial hemp plant is grown solely for its fiber. It contains only a trace amount of
the psychoactive constituent tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) and therefore has no narcotic properties. Even
today, the differences between the types of the hemp plants are often unclear to consumers.
Hemp offers a multitude of ecological advantages. It grows extremely quickly and is naturally resistant to
harmful insects and weeds, thus eliminating the need for pesticides.125 The hemp crop is therefore an ideal
choice for land that is in transition to certified organic status (a process that requires three years of plant
growth without pesticides).126 Hemp plants are also carbon-negative, removing five times more carbon
dioxide from the atmosphere than trees.127 Throughout much of its history, the typically coarse hemp fiber
was best suited for use in industrial textile products, such as ropes and sail fabric. In the 1980s, however,
the development of a new processing technique allowed for finer yarns,128 and hemp became better suited
for use in apparel fabric. The cloth has a silky texture that is more porous than cotton, takes well to dyes,
and is durable.
Flax (used to make linen fabric) was one of the first crops to be domesticated and has been used for textiles
for thousands of years.129 Its long, straight, smooth fibers produce fabrics with many positive characteristics:
linen is absorbent, quick-drying, and takes up color easily. As mentioned earlier, flax was widely produced
during the eighteenth century. It was used for clothing and various other purposes, including household
textiles, sails, and sewing thread. Ireland was the leading producer of flax in Europe until the late nineteenth
century, while the crop spread to North America via European immigrants. Commercial production in North
America grew steadily but the expansion of cotton production led to its decline, and by the Second World War
production had virtually ceased in the United States.130
Today, about 80 percent of flax used for fibers is grown in Europe.131 There has recently been a resurgence
of interest in flax production in the United States and the United Kingdom, driven by an appreciation of the
fiber’s environmental credentials. Although conventional production uses agricultural chemicals, flax can be
grown without fertilizers and does not require extensive irrigation.132 Furthermore, both flax and hemp are
reported to improve the structure of the soil in which they are grown, and can thrive on land that has been
polluted with heavy metals.133 Processing does present some problems: the harvesting of both fibers requires
costly and time-consuming hand labor, while the customary method of extracting the fiber from the stalks
(known as retting) pollutes the water supply. Alternative methods avoid this problem, including a recently
developed enzyme-based process, CRAiLAR, which produces linen and hemp fabrics with a softer handle
that are intended to compete with cotton.134 Despite the great potential of hemp and linen, they remain niche
options, jointly accounting for less than 1 percent of global fiber production.135

Lyocell and Bamboo

Lyocell (also known by its brand name, Tencel) has made a significant impact on the traditional rayon fibers
market in recent years. Courtaulds Fibres, the creator of Tencel, began developing the fiber as part of its
“Genesis” research project, an initiative aimed at creating a product that could compete with both the cost
and physical characteristics of rayon, but that was also ecologically sustainable.136 Lyocell was first made
commercially available in the late 1980s; by 1993, it was already being used for clothing by Calvin Klein,
Girbaud, and Esprit, among other labels.137 The fiber is soft to the touch, more absorbent than cotton, and
can be easily blended with other materials for even higher performance characteristics.138 It is also fully
compostable and biodegradable.139

30
Materials and Processes

Like rayon, lyocell is a regenerated cellulosic fiber; it is derived from easily grown woods such as
eucalyptus and beech.140 Unlike other cellulose-based fibers, however, lyocell utilizes a closed-loop
manufacturing process, meaning that more than 99 percent of the nontoxic chemical solvent used for the
fiber’s production is reclaimed and used again.141 The fiber is not without negative impacts: Susanne Sweet,
research manager for the Sweden-based Mistra Future Fashion program, highlights the energy used in
the production process.142 Lyocell manufacturer Lenzing claims that it has “constantly refined the lyocell
production process over the years, and steadily reduced energy consumption on the basis of continuous
optimization.”143​
In recent years, textiles made from a “new” natural fiber, bamboo, have entered the marketplace. Upon
its introduction, bamboo was touted as a valuable fiber within the sustainable fashion market because
the bamboo plant grows quickly—much more quickly than cotton—and reaches its full height in just
three months.144 It requires little or no irrigation, pesticides, or fertilizers, and its roots can protect against
erosion.145 Yet the use of bamboo fabric has become a point of contention within the sustainable fashion
community. As Todd Copeland, strategic environmental materials developer at Patagonia, has pointed
out, “Most bamboo fabric has a smooth hand that feels like rayon—because that’s essentially what it is.”146
Although the fiber itself is a natural, quickly regenerated material, its method of production is, indeed,
commonly adapted from that used for rayon, which is especially polluting, chemical-laden, and energy-
intensive.

Figure 1.15 Sarah Ratty’s elegant Grecian Drape Nymph dress, created for
the designer’s UK-based sustainable fashion label, Ciel, is made from lyocell
jersey in dove grey and metallic silver. The fabric drapes beautifully, and it
is cool and silky to the touch. Ratty was a pioneer of the sustainable fashion
industry (she started her first label, Conscious Earthwear, in the early
1990s), and she has based much of her work on the selection of high-quality
fabrics with positive sustainability credentials. Installation shot from Eco-
Fashion: Going Green (The Museum at FIT, 2010). Ciel (Sarah Ratty), dress,
grey and silver metallic printed lyocell, 2010, England. Collection of The
Museum at FIT, 2010.47.1. Gift of Ciel.

31
Historical Perspectives on Sustainable Fashion

Figure 1.16 This printed mini dress by FIN, made from bamboo satin, demonstrates the aesthetic qualities that have
rendered the bamboo fiber a fashionable choice. Bamboo’s capacity for drape is highlighted in the fitted, knee-length skirt,
constructed from soft, irregular folds of fabric. However, while bamboo is commonly marketed as a sustainable fiber, its
production is similar to that of rayon: polluting, chemical-laden, and energy-intensive. FIN (Per Åge Sivertsen), dress,
blue organic bamboo satin, Fall 2010, Norway. Collection of The Museum at FIT, 2010.3.2. Gift of Per Sivertsen of FIN.

Furthermore, although bamboo grows well and quickly on its own, there is evidence that some farmers
still choose to use chemical pesticides to further enhance its growth. This is especially true in China, where
bamboo is grown on a commercial scale—and where there is a lack of environmental regulation overall.
Increased demand for bamboo has also led to deforestation in China, in order to provide more land for
bamboo plants.147​

Lower Impact Dyes

During the environmentalist boom of the 1970s,148 the United States Environmental Protection Agency
recognized the severity of the problem of textile dye wastes ending up in the earth’s waterways, and in
the proceeding decades collaborated with the industry to establish standards for waste disposal.149 Many
other countries have also enacted regulatory measures and built filtration systems that limit chemicals and
other materials in the effluent they release. Yet much of our clothing is now sewn, processed, and dyed in
countries where regulations may be insufficient and enforcement lax. Ensuring proper filtration and disposal
can be an added expense for textile producers, meaning the cheap and easy solution is still prevalent in
many countries. Thus, as the environmental group Greenpeace points out, waterways remain “a convenient
dumping ground for all types of wastes.”150 As with transferring production to new locations for lower labor

32
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
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Pecham (Rolls Series, 3 vols.).
Durham.—Reg. of Bishop Richard de Kellawe for 1311-
1316 in Registrum Palatinum Dunelmense. (Rolls
Series.)
Reg. of Bishop Bury, 1338-1343. (Surtees Soc.)
Exeter.—In Prebendary Hingeston-Randolph’s
monumental work already published are the
following:—
Bishop Bronescombe, 1272-1280 }
Bishop Quevil, 1280-1291 } 1 vol.
Bishop Bitton, 1292-1307 }
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Bishop Berkeley, 1327 }
Bishop Grandisson, 1327-1350 } 3 vols.
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Bishop Stafford, 1395-1419.
Bath and Wells.
(Somerset Record
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Bishop Ralph of Shrewsbury,
(Ibid.)
1329-1363.
Bishop Bowett, 1401-1407. (Ibid.)
Bishop Richard Fox, 1492-1494.
E. C. Batten. 1889.
ed.
Winchester.—The Hants Record Soc. has published:—
Bishop John de Sandale, 1316-1320 } 1 vol.
Bishop Rigaud de Asserio, 1320-1323 }
Bishop W. of Wykeham, 1366-1404. 2 vols.
Worcester.—The Worcestershire Hist. Soc. has
published translations and abstracts of:—
Bishop Giffard,
1268-1301.
Sede Vacante,
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Archbishop
Walter Gray, 1217-1255.
Archbishop
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Visitation of Archd. of Norwich, a.d. 1363. P. R. O. Misc. of
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Forms of Letters. Harl. MSS. 670; 862; 3378; 2179; 3300.
Add. MS. 32,089; 33,089.
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Ashley, W. J., Introduction to English Economic History. 3
vols. (especially vol. 1).
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Harl. MS. 4795.
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1880.
Statutes of the Guylde of the Puryficacion, Bury St.
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Cambridge Guild Records, ed. Mary Bateson (Cambridge
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English Gilds. ed. Toulmin Smith (E. English Text Soc.).
1870.
Gross, Charles, Gild Merchant. 1890.
Gross, Charles, Bibliography of British Municipal History,
including Gilds, etc. 1897.
E. B. Jupp, Company of Carpenters. 2nd edition. 1887.
Pynner Guild, London (1464). Brit. MS. Eg. MS. 1142.
Vintners’ Company, temp. Hen. VIII. Brit. Mus. Eg. MS.
1143.
Ludlow.—Palmers’ Gild (in Shropshire Archæol. Soc., i.
pp. 333 seqq.).
Sleaford Guild Accounts (1477-1545). Brit. Mus. Add. MS.
28,533.
Norfolk Guild Certificates (ed. W. Rye for Norfolk, etc.,
Archæol. Soc., xi. 105-36. 1892).
Ed. Smirke, Ancient Ordinances of the Gild Merchant of
Southampton (Archæol. Journal, xvi. 283-96, and
343-82. 1859).
Stamford, Annals of (in Peck’s Antiq., Bk. xii. pp. 18-20).
The Towneley Mysteries. (Surtees Soc. 1836.)
York, Reg. of Guild of Corpus Christi. ed. Surtees Soc.
1872.
York, Corpus Christi Guild Register. Brit. Mus. Lansd. MS.
403.
Extracts from the Municipal Records of the City of York. R.
Davis. Appendix.
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION AND PREACHING
Confession, Forms of. Harl. MS. 172 (ff. 11-19); Add. MS.
15,239 (f. 88 seqq.); Harl. MS. 985; 7641; 1845; 6041
(f. 97 seqq.); Sloane MS. 774.
De Confessione, Tractatus. Mag. Willi. de Montibus, Brit.
Mus. Cott. MS. Vesp. D. xiii. (f. 115 seq.).
De Missis Celebrandis. Brit. Mus. Cott. MS. Nero A. iii. (f.
131-57).
Dives et Pauper. Harl. MS. 149; MS. Reg. 17 c. xx. and 17
c. xxi. Printed by Wynkyn de Worde, 1496; Pynson,
1493; and by Berthelet, 1536.
Excommunications. Brit. Mus. Harl. MS. 1307, f. 436. Cf.
Harl. MS. 2399; Ar. MS. 130; Cott. MS. Claud. A. 11.
Printed by W. de Worde in Lands. MS. 379.
Explanation of Commandments, etc. Add. MS. 27,592.
Expositio S. Jeronomi in Symbolum Apostolorum. Printed
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Pœniteas cito. A practical work on Confession, printed by
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Wilkins’ Concilia.
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for E. Eng. Text Soc.). 1897.
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PARISH LIFE IN
MEDIÆVAL ENGLAND
CHAPTER I
THE PARISH
Any account of parish life in mediæval England must include much
more than might at first sight be supposed. To imagine that the story
of the parson and his church could adequately represent the story of
the parish, even with all that the one had to do for his people and all
that in the other was contained and done, is somewhat like thinking
that the biographies of kings and nobles and the chronicle of their
battles and achievements would tell properly the story of a people or
a country. The fact is, that in those far-off days the parish church was
the centre of popular life all the country over, and that the priest and
other parochial officials were the recognised managers of many
interests beyond those of a strictly ecclesiastical nature. Religion and
religious observances then formed an integral part of the English
people’s very existence in a way somewhat difficult for us to grasp in
these days, when the undoubted tendency is to set God and the
things of God outside the pale of ordinary worldly affairs, and to keep
them out as far as possible. It is unnecessary here, of course, to
determine which method is right and which is wrong; but it is useful,
to say the least, that the fact of this change of attitude should be
borne in mind in any examination into the parish life of mediæval
England. To fail to appreciate the intimate connection between the
Church and the people throughout that period of our national life will
cause the observer to misread many of the facts, upon which a
correct judgment of that time must depend. A writer in the National
Review does not overstate the truth when he says—
“In the Middle Ages the conscious sharing in a world-wide
tradition bound the local to the universal life, and through
art and ritual the minds of the poor were familiarised with
facts of the Christian faith. By our own poor I fear these
facts are very dimly realised to-day.”
THE PARISH

At the outset it will be well to determine the exact meaning of the


word “parish,” and to establish as far as is possible the origin of the
English parochial system. As an institution, although occupying so
important a position from the early Middle Ages, the division of the
country into parishes does not appear to have come down from great
antiquity. The word “parish”—the English equivalent for the Latin
parocia—is derived from the Christian use of the Greek word
παροικία in the sense of a district or diocese under the rule and
jurisdiction of a bishop. In a recent paper on “The Rise of the
Parochial System,” printed in the Transactions of the Exeter
Architectural and Archæological Society, the author, the Rev. Oswald
Reichel, has treated this question fully and in a most satisfactory
manner. What has been so well done need not be done over again. I
consequently make no apology for here following very closely his
line of argument and presenting his conclusions.
In Rome, Carthage, and other large cities, “for the sake of the
people,” as Pope Innocent I. says in a letter written in a.d. 416, there
were district clergy appointed to preside at the services on the
Sundays. Even then, however, in order that they might not consider
themselves “separated from his communion,” he sent to them by his
acolytes what he calls the “fermentum,” made by himself, which has
been variously interpreted to mean the Holy Eucharist consecrated
by him as bishop, or bread he had blessed, as a symbol of the
communion of all the district churches with the central one; but which
is almost certainly the former.
These district clergy, however, were not parish priests as we
understand them. For (1) they belonged to the church of the bishop,
though from time to time detailed for duty in the various churches,
which existed according to need in each region or division of the city.
Over each of these regions a deacon presided as the bishop’s
delegate. (2) The direct government of the church and the cure of
souls belonged to the bishop in all places within his jurisdiction, and
services were performed by him, assisted by the city clergy, on fixed
days in various churches in rotation. (3) Although it is possible to
trace separate revenues for separate churches as early as the end
of the fifth century, the offerings of the churches of a district were not
kept apart, but were administered by the deacon of the region to
which they all belonged as contributions to a common fund.
It is obvious, therefore, that the district clergy, thus described, cannot
be claimed as the origin of our parochial system. The English parish
priest was established to meet the needs of the country rather than
of the city; and, beginning in the first instance to act as chaplains of
landowners, who required the services of religion for themselves or
their tenants, they gradually acquired the position of ecclesiastical
freeholders. Appointed by the patron, they received their office and
their spiritual faculties from the bishop of the see; and, whilst
subordinated to him according to law, were yet irremoveable except
by the strict process of canonical law and for serious offences.
Whatever may have been the early dependence of the priest on the
patron, by the fourth Council of Orleans, a.d. 541, the bishop was
directed to control and protect these clergy and in a.d. 813 the
Council of Mainz forbade laymen to deprive presbyters of churches
which they served or to appoint them without episcopal sanction. It
was not, however, till the twelfth century, according to Mr. Reichel,
that the country parson had acquired full recognition as the
permanent and official ruler of a portion of the Lord’s vineyard
presided over by the bishop of the diocese.
The sphere of work of the local clergy was the parish, which was by
no means the same as the town, hamlet, or manor. According to an
authority, in the thirteenth century the distinction was fully
recognised. “For in one town there may be several parishes,” he
says, “and in one parish several manors, and several hamlets may
belong to one manor.” The parochial system, then, in the Middle
Ages, had come to occupy three separate functions. It had acquired,
in the first place, the notion of a well-defined group of families
organised for the purposes of social order and the relief of needy
brethren. Secondly, the word “parish,” applied to the same group,
was regarded as a sub-unit of ecclesiastical administration, directly
under the parish priest, indirectly under the bishop. Thirdly, it was the
name of the foundation property or estate.
From the earliest times in the Christian Church the duty of all to
assist according to their means in the support of their poorer
brethren was fully recognised. The peculiar method, however, of
enforcing this duty by the regular payment of tithes was apparently
insisted on in the West by the second Council of Macon in a.d. 585,
and in the Council of Rouen in a.d. 650. In England, to speak only of
it, by the middle of the tenth century the religious duty of paying tithe
was enforceable at law, and this tax was commonly called “God’s
portion,” “God’s consecrated property,” “the Lord’s Bread,” “the
patrimony of Christ,” “the tribute of needy souls.” This was
undoubtedly the view taken in pre-Reformation days of the duty of all
to pay the tenth portion of their goods for the use of the Church.
What that use was has frequently been entirely misrepresented and
misunderstood. In the words of the author of the tract on the Rise of
the Parochial System in England—
“it must be always remembered that in the view of the
Church, tithes other than first fruits, and tithes of increase,
were destined not to provide a maintenance for the clergy,
but for the relief and support of the poor; and the rector,
whether of a religious house or parochial incumbent, was
supposed to administer them for these purposes, he being
only a ruler or administrator of them.... During the whole of
the time that the English Church was ruled as an integral
part of the Western Patriarchate, this view of the
destination of tithes, and of the rector’s or administrator’s
duty in respect of them, was never lost sight of.”
In regard, then, to the general notion of a parish, and as to how the
parochial system was extended and developed in England, Mr.
Reichel’s general summary at the end of his tract is important and
interesting. It began, he concludes, in Saxon times, and assumed its
complete form in the Councils of London and Westminster in the
twelfth century. In the centuries which followed, and with which we
are concerned, the administration of tithes was frequently entrusted
to the actual incumbent, and in some cases to religious houses or
collegiate establishments. But in any case the duty of the
administrator was understood and acknowledged, and, it must be
supposed, acted upon. The mistaken notion as to this has arisen
probably from a neglect to bear in mind what happened at the period
of the Reformation.
“At and since the Reformation,” says our author, “custom
has persistently regarded such administrations as
endowments of the parson, clerical or lay, not as gifts to
the poor, of which he is only the administrator. Monastic
parsons were then simply deprived of them by law, and
the administrations they held were granted as property to
laymen, whilst, to meet the wishes of a married clergy,
parochial incumbents were released from all claims at law
for charitable purposes.”
It is important to bear in mind that a properly organised “parish” was
a corporation, and acted as a “corporation,” and as such no lords of
the manor or political personages had any sort of power or authority
over it. They might be, and, in fact, of course always were, members
of the corporation--parishioners—and their positions entitled them to
respect and gave, no doubt, authority to their suggestions. But the
records of the old parishes that have come down to our time clearly
prove that “Squire-rule” over parson and people in mediæval
parochial life did not exist. Sometimes, no doubt, the “great men” of
a place tried to have their own way, but they were quickly shown that
the “corporation” of the parish was under the protection of a power
greater than any they possessed—the power of the Church; and, as
a matter of fact, this was so well recognised that it is difficult enough
to find individual instances of any great landlords who were willing to
try conclusions with the paramount Spiritual authority. To “Holy
Mother Church” all were the same, and within God’s House the
tenant, the villain, and the serf stood side by side with the overlord
and master. In fact, at times, as when a feast fell upon a day when
work had to be done by custom for the lord of the manor, the law of
the Church forbade these servile works, and the master had perforce
to acquiesce. In other words, the parish, so far as it was organised,
had been the creation of the Church, and was free.
“The parish,” writes Bishop Hobhouse, “was the
community of the township organised for Church
purposes, and subject to Church discipline, with a
constitution which recognised the rights of the whole body
as an aggregate, and the right of every adult member,
whether man or woman, to a voice in self-government, but
at the same time kept the self-governing community under
a system of inspection and restraint by a central authority
outside the parish boundaries.”
One thing especially bound the parish together most firmly. The fact
that the belief and practice of all was the same—that every soul in
the parish worshipped in the same church and in the same way, that
all kept the same fasts and feasts and were assisted by the same
Sacraments, gave a unity to the corporation almost impossible now
to conceive. But over and above this, the knowledge that parson and
people were bound together by the parochial system, and, so to
speak, existed for each other, strengthened even the ties of pure
religion. In nearly all the documents illustrating parish life of, say, the
fifteenth century, there is evidence of the community of purpose of
pastor and people which is really astounding. As already pointed out,
every rector and vicar throughout England not only regarded himself
in theory as a steward of the panis Dominicus (the Lord’s Bread),
under which name was meant charity to all that came to claim
support; but if the laws of the English Church and Lyndwood’s
authoritative gloss mean anything whatever, this sacred duty was
carried out in practice. Wherever rectors do not reside in the place of
their cures, says Archbishop Peckham, they are bound to keep
proctors or agents to exercise proper hospitality or charity as far as
the means of their churches will allow, and at the very least to relieve
every parishioner in extreme necessity; and the gloss adds that the
rector of a church on the high-road and in a frequented place will
obviously have to spend much more than one whose cure lies off the
beaten track. For this reason, it says, the clergy of the churches in
England are well endowed, especially where the calls upon them for
this hospitality are great.
This duty of considering the revenues of a parish as common
property to be held in trust for the needs of hospitality and the relief
of the poor is inculcated in every tract dealing with the subject, and
acknowledged in numberless ways. In the will of William Sheffield,
Dean of York in 1496, for example, the testator, after making some
small bequests, says—
“I will that the rest of my goods be distributed amongst the
poor, in all the benefices that I have ever held or now hold
—more or less being given according to the length of time
I have lived in them and maintained hospitality—for the
property of a church is the property of the poor, and for
this reason the conscience is greatly burdened in the
disposal of the goods of the Church. And for the heavy
responsibility of these distributions, Jesus have mercy.”
In another case, in the diocese of Exeter in 1440, a rector is specially
praised at a Visitation, and it is declared that he “has done much
good, in his parish, because he has rebuilt the chancel of his church,
and has added two good rooms, one for himself, and ‘one to
exercise hospitality’ in behalf of those who need it.”
Here, before speaking of the working of a parish in pre-Reformation
days, it may be convenient briefly to treat about the somewhat
intricate question of tithes. The gifts offered by the faithful to the
Church for the support of the ministers, the upkeep of its officers, or
as an acknowledgment of special services, such as baptisms,
marriages, the churching of women, and burials, were roughly
classed under two main divisions—tithes and oblations. The latter
were personal, and to a large extent voluntary, although custom had
somewhat determined the minimum fees which all who could were
expected to pay for services exercised in their behalf. In England, as
Lyndwood notes, oblations were almost wholly made in the form of
money; and by law these offerings were regarded more as being the
personal property of the priests than were tithes, and for this reason
they might be spent more freely, according to the wishes of the
clergy. Still, even in regard to this, the insertion of the word
“generally” in the law seems to the author of the gloss to point to the
fact that the clergy are not altogether free as to the application of any
surplus from these oblations made to them, if for no other reason
than because any apparent squandering of such ecclesiastical
revenues might “tend to destroy the devotion of the people.” In
oblations of this sort, of course, are not included such as were made
in kind for the service of the altar and offered to the priest during the
Mass, such as the bread and wine for the Sacrifice, brought in turns
by the chief parishioners on Sundays and Feast-days.
Tithes are commonly defined as “the tenth part of all fruits and profits
justly acquired, owed to God in recognition of His supreme dominion
over man, and to be paid to the ministers of the Church.” In the Old
Dispensation this recognition was made by Abraham, promised
under vow by Jacob, and legally regulated by Moses. In early
Christian times, if there is no evidence of the existence of the
practice, it is only because the voluntary offerings of the faithful were
ample to supply the needs of the Church and its ministers, whilst the
community of goods practised by the first Christians hardly allowed
the existence of real poverty among them. As the Church grew, its
needs, and in particular the less obvious needs of the faithful poor,
required some more regular and certain resources than the irregular
and voluntary alms of its richer members. So in the Council of Macon
in a.d. 585 is found the first express declaration of the Christian
obligation of paying tithes, not indeed as a new law, but as the
assertion of an admitted Christian principle. In the eighth century
these payments began to be regularly made throughout the Western
Church, and in England, according to the Saxon Chronicle, in a.d.
855 the father of King Alfred, Ethelwulf of Wessex, is said to have
“assigned to the Church the tenth part of his land all over his
kingdom for the love of God and his own everlasting weal.” In this it
is almost certain that the Chronicle is wrong in the form of
expression, and that what Ethelwulf did was to decree the payment
of a tithe of the produce, and not hand over a tenth of the land as an
endowment of the Church. And here it may be well to remark that
there was obviously nothing sacro-sanct about the tenth portion
payable for Church purposes. It is merely a portion that is taken to
represent what is generally a fair offering to God, and one not too
burdensome on those who had to pay. In some cases it might be and
indeed, according to custom, was greater or less in different places.
Tithes were usually divided into two kinds—predial and personal;
“some coming of the earth,” says the author of Dives and Pauper,
“as corn, wine, bestayle, that is brought forth by the land, and such
thyngs be clepyd predyales in latyn. Some thyngs comyth oonly of
the person, as be merchandy and werkmanschyp, and such bene
clepyd personales in latyn.” In these a man is to account his
expenses, and then see whether he has gained, and so pay a tithe
of his profit; but this may not be done in the case of the predial tithes.
In these “he is not to count his expenses, but pay his tithe of all,
neither the worst nor the best, but as it comes.”
The Council of Merton, in 1305, set forth a schedule of the things
upon which tithes had to be paid by law; this included the cutting and
felling of trees and woods, the pasturage of the forests, and the sale
of the timber; the profits of vineyards, fisheries, rivers, dovecots, and
fish-stews; the fruits of trees, the offspring of animals, the grass
harvest, and that of all things sown; of fruits, of warrens of wild
animals, of hawking, of gardens and manses, of wool, flax, and wine;
of grain and of turf, where it was dug and dried; of pea-fowl, swans,
and capons; of geese and ducks; of lambs, calves, and colts, of
hedge cuttings, of eggs, of rabbits, of bees with their honey and wax;
together with the profits from mills, hunting, handicrafts of all sorts,
and every manner of business. As to these, Dives and Pauper, on
the authority of canonists, teaches that people should be reminded
that tithe is, in the first place, an acknowledgment to God for what He
has Himself first given to men. Consequently, all should willingly pay
this tribute to Him, and thus continue to deserve His blessings: also,
that they should remember that nothing was exempt from this tribute
—wind-mills and water-mills, tanneries and fulling-mills, all mines of
silver and other metals, all quarries of stone, and all profits of the
merchant and the craftsman.
Predial tithe, in a word, was payable on the annual crops of corn,
wine, oil, and fruits, etc., and on the natural increase of cattle,
including milk and cheese. These predial tithes were distinguished,
again, into the Greater tithe—that is, on corn, wine, and wool; and
the Lesser tithe on vegetables and fruits, etc. The tithes personal
were to be paid on profits of trade and business. All this was
acknowledged as sanctioned or ordered by “Divine law or custom.”
All tithes on the land-predial were to be paid to the rector of the
parish in which the land was situated or the animals usually fed; all
tithes on business occupation, to the parish where the tithe-payer
was bound by law to receive the Sacraments. “Tithes personal,” says
the author above quoted, “as of merchandise and of crafte, man
shall payen to his parish church where he dwelleth and taketh his
Sacraments and heareth his service, but tithes predial shall been
payed to the church to which the manor and the land belongeth,
unless custom be in the contrary.” Difficulties sometimes necessarily
arose as to cases where flocks of sheep, etc., were at different times
in different parishes, but by episcopal constitutions this was settled
on the common-sense principle of dividing the tithe receivable,
according to the proportion of the time spent in each parish. It was
otherwise in the case of cattle feeding on land in several parishes
—“horn with horn,” as the natives called such a practice; in this case
the tithe was to be paid to the parish in which the permanent sheds
of the cattle at the farmstead were situated. With difficulties of this
nature it is not necessary to deal, and the foregoing examples are
given merely to show how universal the practice was and how
carefully the obligation was fulfilled.
Bishop Peter Quevil, in the Synod of Exeter, held in 1287, lays down
several principles which are to guide the authorities in the levying of
tithes. It will be remembered that it is from these Constitutions that
so much as to the practical working of the Church of England in the
thirteenth century is known. From what he says as to tithes, it seems
that there was growing up a practice of seeking to deduct the cost of
production before counting the tithe. This might seem not
unreasonable, but the bishop condemns it, and says that “expenses
are by no means to be deducted first.” In the same way he refused to
recognise as right any claim to set aside a tenth part of a field and to
count as tithe of the whole whatever was grown upon that portion.
So, too, in the west country a practice had grown up in certain places
for farmers to refuse to pay their dues until the parson had given a
harvest feast and a pair of gloves to the workmen. This is forbidden
as contrary to law. In the same way, as the bishop says, “many and
well-nigh unanswerable questions” arose in the levying of the tithe;
but from time to time these were made the subject of synodal
directions, as may be seen in Wilkins’ great collection, and in
practice these difficulties would appear generally to have answered
themselves by the application of a little common sense, assisted by
a measure of good-will, which most certainly existed in those days.
It is usually difficult to obtain information about the amounts of the
tithe derived from the various sources titheable. Generally the
accounts do not set out the items, and give merely the totals. For the
diocese of Rochester, however, in 1536, the Valor Ecclesiasticus
gives the details in many instances. From these we learn that the
tithe generally had a twofold division; for instance, the Rector of
Huntingdon, besides £9 a year derived from the rectory house and
the rent of 21 acres of pasture, accounted for the tithe of grain and
hay, which produced, according to the then money value, 26s. 8d.,
and the tithe of wool and of lambs, bringing in £4 8s. 9d. He received
also an annual average of £17 2s. 5d. from oblations and private
donations. In the same way the Vicar of Dartford received £16 13s.
4d. for the tithe of wool and lambs, £2 for the hay tithe, and £25 13s.
4d. for all other tithes and oblations.
A word must now be said about the impropriation of parochial tithes
to cathedrals, monasteries, and collegiate establishments. It is very
generally stated that this was one of the great abuses of the
mediæval Church redressed at the time of the Reformation. Without
in any way wishing to defend the practice of assigning tithes to
purposes other than the work of the parish in which they were
receivable, it should in justice be borne in mind that this was never
done without the sanction of the bishop, and upon the condition that
the vicar should receive amply sufficient for his support and for the
purpose of his parochial work. The notion of “the great robbery” of
parishes to endow monasteries, and of the “miserable stipends” on
which those who occupied the post of vicars existed or starved, is in
view of records not borne out by facts. The “miserable stipends”
formed only part of the emoluments of those who served
impropriated churches; they had also the lesser tithes and all
oblations made to them, and the bishops were bound by law to see,
and in fact did see, that their income was sufficient. Moreover,
though not very numerous, there are in the episcopal registers a
sufficient number of examples to show that the arrangements, made
between the impropriators and the vicar, and sanctioned by the
bishop, were open to readjustment if necessary. At East Anthony, in
the diocese of Exeter, for example, this is exemplified, and the
settlement made by Bishop Grandisson is confirmed by Bishop
Stapeldon, and the principle is laid down that “the Bishop and his
successors have power, should they see fit, to encrease, diminish, or
change the amount to be paid to the holder of the vicarage and the
conditions upon which it is held.”
It will be useful to take one or two examples of the division of tithes
between the impropriator and vicar in an impropriated living. The
rectory of Preston, in the county of Kent, for instance, was
impropriated to St. Augustine’s, Canterbury, which derived £16 a
year from it. Out of this sum 53s. 5d. in money was paid by way of
pension to the vicar, and 6s. 8d. in lieu of a certain quantity of corn—
in all £3. This, however, was not by any means the whole income
enjoyed by the vicar, for he also received from the lesser tithes and
personal oblations another £6 15s., bringing his stipend up to the
sum of £9 15s. a year, or ample, according to the value of money in
the sixteenth century, to live upon. Again, the church of Monketon
and that of Birchington, in the same county of Kent, were
impropriated to the monastery of Christ Church, Canterbury. From
them the monks derived £66 13s. 10d. for their house, and out of this
£1 12s. 4d. had to be spent upon the poor of the place, and £12 1s.
8d. was paid to the vicar as his stipend. He received also £11
annually from tithes and oblations, and paid two curates, to serve
Birchington and another annexed chapel, £9 13s. 4d. This left him
still £13 8s. 4d. as his own annual stipend, which was about three
times what he considered sufficient for each of his curates. To take
one more example: from the church of Chistlett the monks of St.
Augustine’s, Canterbury—who, by the way, were lords of the manor
—received from the rectorial tithes £40 a year; the vicar’s tithes,
together with the glebe lands, bringing him £30 a year.
It would appear from these instances, which could be multiplied
indefinitely, that, except for the fact that tithe was taken from the
district where it was raised, the grievance of which so much has

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