What to do with all the Clothes
It's a matter of radical acceptance.
I’m honored this week to feature a post from one of my favorite designers. Janelle Abbott also known as JRAT. To me, she is the Anti-Marie Kondo. Her philosophy is one of never throwing clothes away. I learn so much from her work and her story and I hope you will too. Take it away, Janelle.
Growing up, my parents owned a clothing manufacturing company. I was homeschooled through 9th grade, so I spent many hours at the warehouse using fabric and paper scraps, staples and tape, cardboard boxes and soda canes to make art and make mischief. One time, I created an entire catalog of American Girl doll clothes that I planned to make.
Glancing back at my little self from way out here in adulthood, I am grateful I had so much unstructured time for creative freedom to exercise my imagination.
When my parent’s company closed in 2003, both my parents lost their jobs simultaneously. Everything in the warehouse was sold off except for a big refuse pile, which was swept up into the middle of the hollow, cement cavern that once was full of so much magic. Before my family left this place for the last time, I insisted we sift through the pile of debris for whatever we could salvage—a few bolts of fabric, cones of thread, garment labels, some buttons, and so on. Some of those materials are still in my mom’s supply closet today. Reminders of that life we once had.
Now, in this new chapter, I had to accept that I could no longer shop at Limited Too (not that I shopped there much in the first place). I had to accept that thrifting was now what was accessible to us—but that soon became an asset. Thrifting became a new way to bond with my mom, now that she spent her days in an office instead of as my teacher.
Thrifting also became my source for materials to fuel my creative endeavors. I started to develop a personal style and mode of dress that I still playfully enjoy today: multiple layers of thrifted garments artfully wrapped and arranged, often precariously held in place with safety pins and strategic tucks.
I tried therapy for the first time in 2014. I showed up to my first session with a literal scroll detailing the timeline of events in my life that brought me to that point of despair I was in. After running through a decade of events, my newly found therapist hit me with the classic, “I’m sorry, but our time is up.” My therapist suggested we schedule another session, which I showed up for a week later, but she didn’t. Ghosted by a therapist. And thus ended my foray into therapy in 2014!
It wasn’t until 2019 that I returned to therapy, better prepared to deal with the slog of trying to find a good fit. I ended up with a therapist who suggested I try DBT, or, Dialectical Behavior Therapy. You can look on the Wikipedia for more information, but in short: it’s designed to provide tools for emotional regulation and distress tolerance through mindfulness. And one of the two principles I retained from my six-months stint of pandemic-era Zoom DBT was this one: Radical Acceptance.
Here’s what radical acceptance is not: “I’m being mistreated and I’m ok with that!” Radical acceptance does not put a stamp of approval on the unacceptable. (That’s called denial, and it only causes more problems in the long run.) Radical acceptance says: “I’m being mistreated, but too much of the situation is outside of my control, so though I don’t condone what’s going on, (I actually condemn it), I still accept that it’s happening, and I will choose to work to be ok in the face of these forces that are trying bring me down.” It’s akin to the classic AA serenity prayer:
Radical acceptance is something I struggled for years to incorporate into my mental and emotional life. But as I became better at Radical Acceptance, I realized that it had always been with me, throughout my life. It was there when I had to accept the loss of my parents’ business. It was there when I had to accept a new way of shopping. And it exists for me now, as an artist who makes clothes, and is committed to creating no waste.
Working with found, reclaimed, and deadstock materials is an act of radical acceptance. I am often picking up materials that only vaguely excite me—boring clothes that no one else wants. These materials that require a lot of creative labor to admit them into my wacky world (say, bleach splattering a pair of boring, old slacks then hand painting a bright, multi-colored plaid on top), but that work is radical acceptance in motion.
In my particular brand of fashion, art, and design, this is where I land with Radical Acceptance:
Everything that exists: EXISTS.
I cannot deny reality every time I walk into a thrift store. I have to look around and say: “Every single item of clothing, every shoe, handbag, bed sheet, dish and item of bric-a-brac is here. And will stay here unless claimed and relocated.” Whenever I find an item of interest, I have to ask myself: if I don’t take responsibility for this garment, who will? If I don’t make this piece of cloth my problem, whose problem will it become?
I accept that these items are here: the bags of clothing swap left overs, the donation from followers, an errant free box with miscellaneous sheets and shams. But I don’t accept that they’re done being of use. Radical acceptance is then the engine that propels me forward in manifesting a new, improved, redefined, reconfigured work of art that masquerades as fashion.
Radical acceptance gives me the freedom to develop new techniques in order to solve problems. Like 3T.
After I inherited hundreds of t-shirts from my aunt when I assisted her in purging her clothing collection (er, or more so: chose to inherit, instead of donating them to the thrift store), these materials were suddenly within my vicinity and now my responsibility! And so 3T was born.
3T is just what it sounds like: three t-shirts sewn together on top of each other. To save as many garments as possible from the garbage pile, the rag trade, or the forlorn bottom of a goodwill bin.
Sometimes, when I really want to freak myself out, I think of all the thrift shops full of clothes that people aren’t buying. And then I think of all the people on the streets, their closets bursting with clothes, that they will then bring to the thrift shop and will not be sold. I think of Zara and H&M, mindlessly pumping out garment after garment- more than I could possibly single handedly save.
But here I return to radical acceptance. I cannot control Zara and H&M—their consumption of raw materials, the way they treat their workforce, the number of garments they manufacture annually, the way they deal with their pre and post-consumer waste. I can’t control fast fashion, I don’t condone fast fashion, but I accept that it exists. I can then continue do my best by not purchasing their clothing first hand. I can do my best by repurposing their cast offs when they come my way. I can do my best by staying educated about the issues. I can do my best by leading quietly through my example. And I can continue to do my best to radically accept, without condoning or conceding to what is truly unacceptable.
And in this way, I’ve begun to help other people embrace what they already own. In a different kind of therapy.
Wardrobe Therapy is a project where someone presents me with three to five garments they no longer want. Items that might otherwise be destined for their local thrift store or clothing swap. I have engineered an extensive list of questions that I ask them- about how they grew up shopping, what their style is, and how they’d characterize their relationship to clothing. All of these questions will shape the results.
I turn these garments into something new, wasting nothing and leaving no scraps. And proving that, yes, you can grow and change and shift styles. But it’s possible for your existing clothing to grow with you. And that style and shopping can be separate. If only we all had the means to accept it.
Check out Janelle’s substack for more insights and tips for modern living and radical acceptance. And her creations are for sale on her website.
Thanks so much for the guest post, Janelle. And thank you for inspiring me to hoard everything I own and never give it away.
Other Articles Of Interest:
Cleveland-based choreographer Jailyn Harris is making a dance based on Black Ivy. Check it out!
Yung Chomsky (Yung’s Substack ) was listening to the Articles Of Interest episode The Clueless Closet and got inspired. 9 months later, his first mobile app is available! It's called Phomo
I promise I am working on another episode soon.
In the meantime, I was interviewed by the Business of Fashion Podcast!
It was very fun to host On Air Fest yesterday! This is me watching Laurie Anderson speak with the Kitchen Sisters. That was so amazing.
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I love that you understand the nature of radical acceptance. Don't allow things that are beyond your control to make you miserable.
Great guest post. Very inspiring!