The Hard Truth About Sustainable Clothing: Buy Less, Live More

I walked into an outdoor shop last week, just killing time, running my hands over the racks of jackets that all looked the same—sleek, synthetic, made to fit into the modern "adventure" aesthetic. You know the type. And right there in front of me, some dude was holding three of them like a doomsday prepper gearing up for the collapse of civilization. Dude was hyped. Talking loud about how he only buys "sustainable clothing" now, like he just cracked the code of ethical consumption.

I didn’t say anything, just watched. Because here’s the irony: the most sustainable jacket is the one you didn't buy.

But that’s not how people think. Nah, they want the feel-good purchase, the one that makes them believe they’re doing their part—without actually changing anything. Swipe a card and boom, they're part of the solution. Ignore the fact that it took an entire industrial process—factories, shipping, dyes, adhesives—to turn those plastic bottles into a jacket, most of which will still end up in a landfill someday, shedding microplastics the whole way there.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m not here throwing stones from a glass house. I used to chase new gear like it was the answer to something. Tell myself I needed it. A new shell because “last year’s tech is outdated.” A different layering system because “this one breathes better.” It was never really about the gear. It was about the want.

But here’s what I learned after years of actually living in this stuff—wearing it to pieces, fixing it, pushing it to its limits: the real game isn’t in buying “eco-friendly” versions of the same disposable junk. The real game is buying better and buying less.

A waxed canvas jacket that’ll outlive you. A wool sweater that won’t turn into plastic dust in the wash. A pair of leather boots you can resole a dozen times over. It’s not about materials alone, though that matters—it’s about mindset. The difference between cycling through a stack of jackets every few years and owning something until it's imprinted with your life.

But that’s not an easy sell, is it? Because it means telling people no. No, you don’t need that. No, it won’t fix your life. No, buying another thing—even a thing marketed as "green"—won’t undo the damage of unchecked consumption.

And yeah, I get it. Buying something feels good. New gear is exciting. But if you really care about sustainability, if you actually want to make a dent in the problem, start by asking a different question:

Do I even need this?

Because if the answer is no? The most ethical, most sustainable, most environmentally friendly thing you can do…

Is just walk away.