Damn, I need to buy this sweater. It’s soft, it’s trendy and it’s only ₹999! What a steal, right? Buuut…my closet is already bursting with sweaters I bought last winter because let’s be real, I didn’t want to repeat too many outfits. I wanted variety, I wanted cute photos and yes, I wanted to keep up with the trends. Fast fashion makes all of this so easy to achieve—until it becomes the very problem.
Fast fashion has us all in a chokehold. It’s almost too convenient—cute clothes at throwaway prices, with new trends dropping faster than I can scroll through my Instagram feed. And when you’re in college, trying to balance your wardrobe between “I rolled out of bed for this 8:30 a.m. class” and “It’s Thursday night and I’m the main character”, the temptation is so real. But then you start to notice how these “steals” come with their own hidden costs.
Let’s start with the fact that most of these clothes don’t last. That sweater I’m eyeing? It’ll probably start pilling after two washes and the seams might unravel before midterms. Fast fashion thrives on this disposable mindset. The clothes are cheap because they’re made with cheap materials and they’re designed to fall apart just in time for the next trend to roll in. It’s a vicious cycle: buy, wear, toss and repeat. And while I’m guilty of participating in this vicious cycle I’ve started to realize how unsustainable it really is. My mom still has pieces she bought in the ‘90s that I’d totally wear today. A perfectly tailored blazer, a soft wool scarf, cute summery cotton tops— they’ve all stood the test of time. Meanwhile, I’m over here with a closet full of clothes that wouldn’t survive two seasons. The idea of passing down my wardrobe to my future daughter? Laughable.
It’s not just about quality, though. Fast fashion’s impact on the environment is horrifying. The industry is responsible for approximately 10% of global carbon emissions which surpasses the combined emissions of all international flights and maritime shipping. The industry is one of the biggest polluters in the world, guzzling water and generating mountains of waste. And the speed of it all? It’s mind boggling. A single fast fashion brand can churn out thousands of new styles in a year. That means there’s always something new to buy–– but it also means that millions of discarded garments end up in landfills when trends inevitably shift.
Then there’s the pressure. Social media has made it nearly impossible to escape the feeling that you need to constantly refresh your wardrobe. Heaven forbid you post a picture in the same dress twice! Influencers are out here flaunting hauls with twenty new items at a time and suddenly you’re questioning whether your perfectly good jeans are still “in”. Fast fashion feeds off this insecurity. It tells us that our worth is tied to how “put together” we look, how trendy we are and how well we’re keeping up.
But keeping up comes at a cost. Not just to the planet but to us as consumers. We’re stuck buying more and more, only to feel less and less satisfied. And honestly, that’s exhausting. There’s a reason why people are starting to talk about curating their wardrobes instead of just accumulating stuff. Imagine owning fewer pieces but loving each one—a classic trench coat that goes with everything, a pair of boots that get better with age or a little black dress that’s perfect for any occasion. It’s not just about spending more. It’s about being thoughtful. It’s about choosing quality over quantity and building a wardrobe that lasts.
So now, when I scroll through my favorite brand’s website, adding things to my cart like I’m playing a game, I’m trying to pause. I’m asking myself questions like–– Do I really love this? Will I still want to wear it next year? Does it fit my style or is it just the algorithm whispering in my ear? It’s not easy. The urge to buy cute clothes for college is real. But the more I think about the bigger picture, the more I want to make better choices—for myself, for the planet and even for my hypothetical future daughter. Someday, I’d love for her to rummage through my closet and find pieces worth keeping, just like I did with my mother’s closet.