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STYLE THAT MATTERS, BY THE AUTHOR OF OVERDRESSED.![]() |
Hey everyone, Thanks for following The Good Closet blog over the past few years, but I’ve decided to consolidate and move my blog posts over to Overdressedthebook.com. See you there!

Today, I was on Canada Television’s CTV News to talk about my book Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion. During the interview, the hosts asked me the inevitable and necessary question — What are you wearing? I’m like any chick who has to dress for an important occasion. In other words, I put A LOT of thought into what I was going to wear on the program. On top of the normal pressures of appearing on TV (where you’re supposed to wear bold, solid colors and something professional looking), I had to anticipate having to talk about how much my clothes cost and where and how they are made. And they still had to look good on me, otherwise no one would take me seriously. Would you read a book about the fashion industry by someone who looked like a slob? No. Anyway, it was a lot to juggle.
In the interest of transparency, as I noted on the show, I ended up wearing a tangerine-colored designer dress by a brand called Theory that I bought for around $265 (I mistakenly said it was less than $200 on the show). It’s a classic shape, a bright color, and (yay!) looks good on TV. I wore it to a book reading in June and plan to wear it to more book events in the future. I also wore a blazer that is hands down the nicest piece of clothing I’ve ever owned and by far the most expensive garment I’ve ever bought. I rarely wear it because it’s expensive and made by Helmut Lang, and people understandably like to criticize people who wear pricey, high-end designers. I did not mention the blazer on the TV show because, well, I didn’t want to sidetrack the conversation with a tangent about why good quality clothing is harder to find today and is often overpriced (There’s a whole chapter in the book about it called High and Low Fashion Make Friends!).
The question of “What are you wearing?” has become a way to flaunt how much money you spent and to drop a designer name, which is unfortunate. On the show, I tried to spin that question into what’s more important: Where are our clothes made and how are they made. I own that Theory dress because it’s made in the U.S. and the fabric and craftsmanship are good quality. The sewing and tailoring on that Helmut Lang blazer are impeccable. And it’s made in the U.S.A. I did not buy those garments because they are made by Theory and Helmut Lang. The label is besides the point. When we shop, we should be looking at the fabrication and made-in labels first (not the brand/designer label) and then looking closely at the seams, the buttons, and the zipper and trim, to determine if a garment is worth our money.
Consumers have been convinced by the cheap fashion industry that they can’t afford better clothes. But for the most part, consumers are throwing away their money on low-quality, trendy clothes that have no shelf life and that they don’t get a lot of use out of (how much clothing is sitting in your closet unworn?). If we put more time and effort into our wardrobes, we’d find that there are still well-made clothes out there that are also a good value. Check out my slow fashion directory for some ideas. If consumers would commit to buying less and investing in fewer pieces that we truly love, we’d have wardrobes that were far more flattering and fulfilling.
If you want to watch the segment, it’s here.
Here’s what Lynsey says about her closet: “As a trend analyst & writer focusing on sustainable fashion, I have been in the process of greenifying my wardrobe since 2009. I expected this to have resulted in a minimal wardrobe full of vintage, slow fashon and the like. However, going through my closet, I’m slightly embarrassed to say that I still own quite a lot of clothing, the majority of which does not warrant the label ‘sustainable’. I estimate that about 30% of the items in my wardrobe can be called ethically and/or ecologically made. This includes clothes from dedicated sustainable labels such as Simple Shoes (going out of business), Misericordia, Kuyichi, Monkee Genes, Rianne de Witte and Alchemist, as well as a number of items from sustainable collections by high street fashion retailers such as H&M, C&A and Hema.
The majority of closet space – approximately 70% – consists of designer clothing from brands such as Hugo Boss and Armani (which I used to be addicted to, never buy anymore but still wear) and Tod’s (admittedly, a still existing addiction). I own no secondhand items or outfits obtained through swapping whatsoever.
Here’s what I counted in my closet (not including gym and sportswear, bathing suits, underwear, socks etc.):
- 8 pairs of trousers
- 13 pairs of jeans
- 12 dresses
- 11 skirts
- 23 short-sleeved tops
- 20 long-sleeved tops
- 9 cardigans
- 12 jackets/coats/blazers
- 5 belts
- 21 pairs of shoes (not including a box of unworn shoes down in the basement)
If you want to submit your closet to The Good Closet, email a photo, a list of items in your closet, and a brief description of your wardrobe to elizabeth.l.cline AT gmail.com. Thanks!

I was recently quoted in the Daily Mail calling the First Lady “ridiculous” for rocking Target frocks. What I actually said, in an interview with a HuffingtonPost reporter, is that we, the American public, are ridiculous for celebrating Michelle Obama for wearing cheap, imported fashion. Perhaps not the best choice of words, but here’s what I meant:
Cheap fashion has set a trap for us, where retailers like H&M, Target, Old Navy, and Forever 21 lure us into stores on a continuous basis to keep their profits up. Americans are hooked on buying 20.5 billion garments a year or 68 garments and 8 pairs of shoes per person, and the fashion industry’s enormous environmental footprint is growing by the year. We nurture our overconsumption by expecting our style icons to wear something new every single day. Marie Antoinette was rumored to never wear the same thing twice, but she didn’t live in an age of overpopulation, strained environmental resources, and out-of-control consumption. One thing I love about Michelle Obama is that she’s not afraid to recycle certain wardrobe items, including, yes, a Merona print dress from Target that she wore in 2009 and again in 2011. But as a style leader, our First Lady should be more vocal about buying less, buying clothes that are well-made, and caring for what you own.
Americans love cheap clothes in part because so many of us are broke, but in a sense a Target dress is both a symptom and cause of our economic woes. Here’s what I mean: Huge chain stores like Gap, H&M, Forever 21, Target, and Old Navy now dominate the clothing retail market and are so focused on growing profit, opening new stores, and minimizing costs that they scour the world looking for the cheapest places to buy fabric and sew clothes. As a result, between 1996 and 2011, more than a half a million American garment industry jobs were lost to foreign competition. We went from making about half our clothes here in the U.S. in 1990 down to 2% today. While writing my book, I visited shuttered textile mills in South Carolina and toured anemic garment factories in New York City and Los Angeles. Should downwardly mobile sewers and textile mill workers find consolation in a cheap dress at Target?
Hillary Clinton bought her wedding dress off the rack at a local Dillard’s in Fayetteville, Arkansas and as First Lady, she preferred medium-priced labels like Dana Buchman, known for tailored career garb and good fabrics. As of 2008, Buchman exclusively designs low-end products for Kohl’s using polyester and rayon, spandex blends. Mid-priced lines have dwindled in recent decades. In February, Michelle Obama wore Jason Wu for Target and we loved her for it, but it also symbolized our shrinking clothing choices where we’re largely left with cheap knockoffs of unaffordable designer fashions—it’s Jason Wu or Jason Wu for Target—and not a whole lot in between. In this way, our fashion landscape is actually less fair and less democratic than it used to be.
I find our First Lady brilliant and gorgeous, but I do think our national wardrobe needs to be rethought. Instead of applauding Mrs. Obama for sporting cheap clothes, we should look at the bigger picture of how ultra-low-priced, corporate fashion (especially at the pace we’re consuming it) undermines our environment and our economy. The shopping habits of American consumers have changed in disturbing ways in recent decades—we once aspired to own the best clothes we could for our money, supported domestically made brands, and took care of what we wore. We now view disposable trends stitched together in far-flung factories as patriotic, and that is ridiculous indeed.
Tell us about five8ths, your Baltimore-based clothing business. What inspired you to start up?
I’ve had a passion for clothing and fashion design from a young age, but my path has also wandered through the worlds of art, sociology, costume design, and Montessori. On my honeymoon trip to Mali in 2006, I saw for the first time an example of how to work in fashion and not sacrifice my ideals. Each person wore a unique garment, custom designed and often made from colorful wax printed cottons. Independently-owned custom clothing-maker’s shops dotted nearly every street in Bamako. In order to have a new outfit made, a person went to the market to pick out fabric, then took it to a tailor’s shop to discuss the design and have measurements taken. In a few days, the design was cut and sewn to size (the tailor who made a shirt and skirt for me used a treadle machine and an iron that was heated with coals). This concept of clothing being made with a person in mind really inspired and appealed to me. This is a functional form of art, design, and craft that affects the way people behave. Making clothes is work that combines so many of my interests and allows me to spend my time doing something that I believe in.
After teaching in public Montessori for five years, I had the chance to live in South Africa last year where my husband was working. While there I spent my time refining my skills and developing the framework for my business. I spent a lot of time working on custom-designed and custom-tailored clothing for myself, my husband, and friends in Johannesburg. When I moved back to Baltimore, I began working part-time in public Montessori again and also started five8ths during the fall with both a men’s and women’s line. As I prepared to attend my first craft fair during the holiday season, I began concentrating on men’s shirts, and developed standard sizing. I now also have my first spring/summer line of men’s shirts, and offer the option of ordering standard sizes, semi-custom, or bespoke (fully custom).
What pieces are you most excited about in your line right now? What types of materials do you use and where do you get them?
I am always most excited about the latest design I’ve drafted, or even just the latest shirt that I’ve sewn. I take great pleasure in noticing the tiny improvements in skill and craftsmanship that result from the practice of making each shirt. That said, the Shacket, especially its front yoke that doubles as pocket flaps, is still my favorite design overall. I use only plant-based, 100% natural fabrics (no synthetics). This includes cottons and linens at the moment, but I’m also sourcing hemp and bamboo. I like the look and feel of these fabrics but there is also an environmental benefit to not using synthetic fabrics. (There is evidence that when synthetic fabrics are washed, nano-particles of plastic get washed down the drain and eventually make it into waterways and oceans, where they are ingested by animals repeatedly up the food chain.) I would like to incorporate organic fibers as soon as possible, and even hope to take the handmade element even further and be able to offer fabrics made in small mills or even hand-woven fabrics some day.
Do you work out of a home studio?
Yes. I love working from home and being able to be productive on specific tasks when my energies are most effective (sewing in the morning, tackling the business side during afternoon energy-lulls, attaching buttons by hand in the evening while relaxing on the couch, etc.).
It must be difficult to convince people to pay custom prices when stores can sell a button-up shirt for $20?
Shirt prices vary wildly, this is true, and everyone has their own price-point. I have always been very conservative with the way I spend money, so I am sympathetic to sticker-shock. Some people who are happy with $20 shirts probably won’t be convinced that paying for hand-made clothes is worth it, and that’s fine. But there are a number of reasons that hand-made is worth the cost to me and my customers. The price is not high because I am charging a premium. The price is high because it takes a lot of time, labor, and quality materials to get the quality of clothes that I aim to produce. In other words, it is not my goal to create shirts for a luxury market—it is my goal to create high-quality, long-lasting shirts that don’t need to be replaced as often and therefore might compare in price to another type of more disposable shirt over the life-time of the shirt. Also, it’s easy to overlook the hidden costs in cheap clothing—when people pay $98 for a mall-store shirt that’s made half-way across the world in abusive factory conditions, my prices seem relatively low! That said, I understand my prices are high for most people and I do everything I can to keep the prices as reasonable as possible.
Custom clothing of course fits much better than storebought; are there other advantages that those who don’t own custom clothing might be overlooking?
Because each shirt is designed, drafted, cut and sewn by me, I produce only 5-10 of each design, so every shirt is limited-edition. Each individual shirt is also truly unique in that each is handmade, and often made-to-size. Making each shirt by hand allows for utmost attention to detail in design and craftsmanship. All of my seams are flat-felled, which means the edges are enclosed for a clean look and comfortable feel, and are sewn with two lines of stitching, which reinforces the seam. The buttons are sewn on by hand, and are unlikely to fall off, but if so, I hand-sew an extra button to the inside of the shirt for replacement—I hope that each shirt will be worn often and over many seasons, and want to encourage simple repairs like replacement of buttons to extend the life of the garment. I add decorative, but also strength-building plackets on the hem of the side-seams and openings. The collars and cuffs are sculpted so that they maintain a cylindrical form on their own, which ensures a more polished look.
There’s a relationship between you and your client. Do you think that the social element is a selling point of custom clothing?
When I’m working with a client, I am sculpting a piece of fabric around his body. Throughout the duration of his measuring or fitting appointment, we shift back and forth from a very social relationship to that of sculptor and sculpture/subject. There’s a lot of trust involved on the part of the client. I ask a lot of questions about how the client likes the fit to feel and look, and we work together to create something that looks good and also feels comfortable. Getting to know a client fuels the creative process of identifying a style that fits the body type and lifestyle of the person. Each shirt is a sculpture, but also almost an extension of the personality of the client, and very unique in that way. Even for non-custom I think an increasing number of people enjoy being able to meet and interact with the person who is making the products they use.
Buying a one-of-a-kind garment has a different ethical and environmental footprint than storebought clothing. Can you tell us about that?
There are so many things to say about this, and I’m sure I don’t have space to cover them all here, so I’ll only name a few. One, there is little to no waste involved when buying a custom-made garment. Large production of standard sizes inevitably produces excess clothing at one stage or another. Many may never sell, and the garments that are bought, perhaps cheaply, may not be valued enough by the consumer to be worn very often, and might end up being discarded after a short time or very few wearings. Where do all of the clothes go that people discard? Trendy or poor-quality fashion creates mountains of textile waste. Even donated clothes can have negative impacts. For example, the flood of cheap donated clothes has been blamed in part for the decline of domestic textile industries in many countries in the global South. Another obvious component of buying locally-made, handmade products, is the sustainable practice of supporting labor locally. My clients know me and can always come back to request changes or repairs—my work has my name on it. Supporting a craftsperson supports the continuation and development of artisan work that has become scarce in our society. Keeping money in the local economy helps everyone in the community. The money spent on a five8ths shirt stays in the community as I use it to invest in materials and supplies (I support local businesses as much as possible both for my business and personally). People say they can’t afford nicer clothing. But I’ve found that what’s really going on is they’re attached to buying a lot of clothes, even if they don’t wear or like most of them.
How do we get people out of this habit of quantity over quality and to view their clothes as an investment?
The practice of buying a few, nice outfits each season, getting them altered to fit well, and wearing them frequently, is a foreign concept to many among us. Because cheap clothing has become so pervasive it is actually difficult to find quality clothes. As a result, shopping habits have changed so that we buy too many clothes (too many to keep track of or to justify an extra tailoring expense when the item may only be worn a few times), and I think this has even led to a deterioration of style. A growing number of people are now thinking of food choices as ethical choices. Because of the things discussed above (environmental concerns, labor practices, supporting a local economy, etc.) clothing purchases can be thought of in the same way. It starts with making it a habit to consider: Do I really love this, and will I wear it often, for many seasons? Where was it made, by whom, and in what conditions? Once a person starts considering these things, it’s a shorter leap to then also consider the fabric content and its environmental impact. I try to limit myself ahead of time by abstaining from shopping at stores where I know that the ethical or environmental practices are questionable.
You design menswear, so where and how do you shop for your own clothes? Do you make your own custom pieces?
If I had more time, I would make more of my clothes, but I also really enjoy searching out the work of other designers, dressing in clothes that contrast my own design style, and supporting other designers. Two designers whose work I’ve been excited about lately are Filly and Fischer. I aim to buy one piece per season. I frequent locally-owned boutiques that carry small independent designers, and I also spend a good amount of time in vintage, thrift, and re-sale stores, and am always up for a clothing swap! I also look for local designers whenever I travel. When I lived in Johannesburg, I frequented the local fashion events that were part of the buzzing fashion scene there. There are a number of exciting designers there, such as miyabi, take care, and Superella. I recently had a fantastic time in Montreal, where each shop that sells locally-designed and made clothing has a large sticker in the window that says: “Mode Montreal”. I fell in love with Betina Lou’s current collection, all made in Quebec. The heightened awareness for locally designed and made clothing in Montreal is something I hope to see more of in the States soon, echoing the growth of the slow food movement.
Any hope for a womenswear line down the road?
Yes, definitely! I have focused on men’s shirting because I wanted to hone my skills by not being too broad while developing my business. I hope to launch a womenswear line soon, starting with shirts and shirt-dresses and then expanding from there. For those interested in being notified of when the women’s line is up and running, please visit my website at www.five8ths.com, and fill in the online form there, or email me at five8thsclothing@gmail.com.
I was honored to be a guest on NPR’s On Point this morning (LISTEN HERE) , discussing my book Overdressed: The High Cost of Cheap Fashion. The callers and the discussion really amazed me and were further proof that so many consumers are tired of the cheap fashion cycle and are looking for alternatives. Fortunately, shopping ethically, sustainably and stylishly is easier than ever. Here’s what I wore to the interview (sorry so low-res):
SHOES: Melissa flats, made from recycled and recyclable plastic in a zero-waste factory in Brazil. $80
JEANS: J. Brand, made in the U.S.A. $168
TOP: 100% silk shirt purchased at Goodwill for $5 and refashioned.
BELT: 100% leather purchased at Goodwill for $2.
I’m finally getting into fabric dyes! A friend gave me a denim jacket recently that I’ve been refashioning slowly. I took in the side seams, took off the sleeves, and added darts in the back, but it still wasn’t quite right. It needed to be black!! So I bought a bottle of RIT dye and followed the Tips for Success on the RIT website. Dyeing clothes is a trial-and-error process. What I learned:
1. Use a lot of dye on thick cotton. I used about 3/4 a bottle of black dye in three gallons of water (the directions call for only 1/2 a bottle), and my vest only turned a few shades darker. It’s nowhere near a true black.
2. Three gallons is a lot of water, so make sure you’re boiling enough! I boiled water in a large sauce pan and in a tea kettle and poured it into my 5-gallon bucket and it just barely filled up the bottom and covered my vest! I frantically started boiling water in every saucepan I had, so I didn’t waste the dye.
3. When you’re stirring the mix, use a wide metal spoon with a long handle. Stirring for twenty minutes gets very tiring, and a bigger spoon makes the job easier. Metal is easy to clean and sterilize when you’re done.
4. Have a plan for where you’re going to dry the garment, as it’s inevitably going to drip dye. If it’s in the tub, try hanging it from the shower head and putting a plastic bag on the bottom of the tub.
BEFORE AND AFTER:


I’ve been sewing like crazy lately. A new fabric shop opened near my apartment in Bed-Stuy, and the nicest knit jersey they had was in nautical stripes. I’m still definitely a beginner sewer and I like projects that are quick and easy. What’s easier than a tank top? Here’s how I did it:
1. I bought a linen tank top at a thrift store for $3. I liked the fit and and cut, so this is what I used as my tank top pattern.
2. I laid the linen tank top on my fabric and marked it off. Tank tops and knit don’t have to be all that precise in my experience, so I just quickly made an outline around the existing tank.
3. I repeated step 2, so that I would you know have a back to my tank top as well as a front.
4. I sewed the straps and around the neck with a straight stitch, leaving maybe a centimeter of fabric left. This ended up creating a really neat raw edge around the neckline from where the leftover fabric flipped out. It looked great, so I left it (SEE MIDDLE PHOTO)!
5. Next, I sewed the side seams, leaving (as you can see in the yellow linen tank) pretty deep splits up the side. It shows a little skin, but I think it’s cute.
6. Last I sewed up the hem on the bottom, cut the threads and fit the tank. It was still a little loose in the armpits, so I went back around and sewed the side seams a little tighter. Voila. One step closer to a new summer wardrobe.
The annual H&M Sustainability Report is a trusty source for collecting statistics on just how unsustainable and resource-draining fast fashion really is. In this year’s report, they boast that they’ll be producing 7 million pairs of shoes using water-based chemicals (up from 2.4 million 2011). I am all for mass market clothing companies improving their environmental profile, but H&M’s real affront to natural resources and energy use is in their massive scale. If the store is producing at least 7 million pairs of shoes a year (it’s probably many times larger than that), how much total water, energy, and other resources are consumed in the process? Churning out this much disposable product is the opposite of sustainability.
Unlike acrylic and polyester, which look wrecked after a season of wear, a properly cared for wool sweater will last forever. Here’s a really helpful how-to guide from ecouterre.com that includes tips on how to remove pills, patch holes, and hand wash and reshape wool.
There is now a Facebook fan page up for my book, Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion. Like the page to keep up with the book launch, author appearances, ethical fashion news and reviews, and photos and updates from my travels.
What do bagels and fast fashion have to do with one another? According to Slate.com writer Matthew Yglesias, Lender’s Bagels made America better by making bagels worse. The same could be said for H&M in regards to fashion, he writes:
The fundamental story of Lender’s Frozen Bagels is that the winning product isn’t always the best one. Like Ikea for furniture, H&M for clothing, or the Olive Garden for Italian food, Lender’s innovated by finding a way to compromise on quality and reap huge gains in other spheres…Nobody wants to stand up and proudly proclaim, “I changed the world with my inferior products.” But often this is how the world changes. And if you look at the health care and higher education corners of the American economy where spiraling costs are bankrupting the middle class, you see sectors that are largely untouched by this kind of low-end innovation. The world could probably use a few more Murray Lenders.
The world may need more Murray Lenders, but it can’t sustain another H&M. While I think that Yglesias is spot on in describing H&M’s wild success in peddling low-quality fashion, he misses a wider point about how cheap fashion has changed the world for the worse. And he misdiagnosis what is really bankrupting the middle class in the U.S.—a lack of jobs. While Lender’s Bagels depends on a network of U.S.-based factories (there’s one in New Haven, Buffalo, and Mattoon, Illinois) that employ 600 Americans, H&M depends on a network of low-paid factories throughout Eastern Europe and Asia and a cadre of underpaid cashiers and sales people. Yes, H&M arguably exposes more people to fashion (just as Lender’s exposed Americans to bagels), but the flip side of cheap, poorly-made consumer products is quite often miserable jobs and unsustainable consumption.
The Lenders Bagels empire is also far more innocuous in another important way—A Lender’s bagel is made from biodegradable food stuff. It gets eaten; it’s a perishable good. The same cannot be said for all those polyester party dresses and non-organic tank tops H&M is selling to us by the bagsful. Fast fashion chains routinely churn out hundreds of millions of garments per year (Zara produces one million a day) with no recycling plan, instructions for disposal, or acknowledgment that they’re creating a horrifying surplus of clothes that will eventually end up in a landfill.

TOTAL: 101 individual garments and 42 accessories (not including bags, T-shirts, gym clothes, nightgowns, pajamas, bathing suits, shorts, socks, underwear)

New York Fashion Week is in full swing again, and it’s got me questioning how much we worship high-end fashion designers. In the age of big-business fashion, marketing has convinced us that designer clothes are in another stratosphere above anything you and or even a skilled local dressmaker could dream up or create. Yet two generations ago, the skill of sewing and designing clothing was common knowledge. Vogue Patterns still sells a number of sewing patterns from some of today’s most popular high-end designers—folks like Badgley Mischka, Chado Ralph Rucci, and Anna Sui. I love these patterns because they’re a reminder that women historically took designer patterns to their dressmaker or some even made the looks themselves. Learn how to sew and go out and buy your own fabric and suddenly “designer” clothing is demystified. It doesn’t descend from the heavens, it gets sewn together out of fabric, hello.
Some fashion designers are true innovators, of course, worthy of adoration, and their skill far surpasses anything I am capable of. But are their creations worth the $2-million runway shows and house-payment-high price tags they fetch? Those numbers add to the feeling that fashion design is in a category of things we couldn’t possibly do for ourselves. It adds to our feelings of passivity and helplessness when it comes to what we wear. We need to correct the power imbalance between the public and designers. We worship chefs but we also worship the home cook—I’d like to see the same thing happen in the world of clothing. Here’s to the home sewer, the independent fashion designer, and local tailors and seamstresses this week!
This past weekend, I got my headshot taken for my forthcoming book [Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion]. Only four more months until it’s on shelves! You can preorder on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.