Of garments and guilt

A curious little news item picked up last year by Fashionista was "Eco-factories undeterred by label setback", a little piece by Leonie Barrie for Just-Style. Leonie reports that the Sri Lankan apparel industry has been thwarted in its plans to label garments stocked in major US and EU retailers with its 'Garments without Guilt' slogan. The Garments without Guilt scheme, initially promoted in 2006, reassures buyers that clothing sourced from Sri Lanka has been produced in factories that are free from child and forced labour, discrimination and sweatshop conditions.

Retailers, however, are not all happy about highlighting the ethical provenance of their stock. According to the chairman of the island's Joint Apparel Association Forum (JAAF), if you put a label on what's coming out of Sri Lanka to say that it's okay, the implication picked up by shoppers is that everything else on the shelf may not be so clean.

More than 130 factories are now independently audited under the Garments without Guilt label, totalling between 80% and 85% of the island's apparel exports.

Fashionista, ever sensitive to the profound philosophical implications of fashion retailing, observes that the very first reference to clothing in the Bible alludes to 'Garments with Guilt', when Adam and Eve decided on an impromptu cover-up job having eaten the forbidden fruit.

Modeliste loves the 'Garments without Guilt' campaign and adores slogan, but she has a little confession to make: it resonates in her mind with the act of committing her credit card to yet another objectively unjustifiable purchase, not with the sourcing of the garment concerned.

No sweat?

"Do Sweatshop Scandals Really Damage Brands?" was the question asked by Laura Fitch on BrandChannel at the end of last week. She cites a five-part Global Post investigation which accuses a number of top brands of sourcing from exploitative factories in Asia, transgressing the norms of human rights which consuming countries hold dear and also breaching health and safety at work rules. But, as Laura wonders, do consumers even care? Her conclusion is a resounding "probably not".

Both consumers and brand owners tend to distance themselves from exploitation at production level. The former -- whose role as consumers is to consume -- may be motivated to join the occasion boycott or sign a petition or two, but their default position is somewhere among the clothes-racks, looking for that perfect fit. Brand owners point to the fact that their own corporate policies do not condone exploitation (it would be surprising if any did) and that far-off suppliers who systematically mistreat or abuse their employees are in breach of their policies. However, they observe that it is difficult for them to monitor and enforce industrial policies. Laura leaves readers to ponder on this: if sweatshop allegations are not enough to damage brands or decrease sales, what incentives do brands have to change conditions on factory floors?

Says Fashionista, history shows that the biggest impact on consumer purchasing patterns has been made by pressure groups who use a potent cocktail of high publicity, intimidation and the shame factor. This is why furs, once a staple for every caveman and later a to-die-for accessory, are now confined largely to the mothballed wardrobes of some vintage grannies and the props cupboards of theatrical companies. Paradoxically, one of the things that has fuelled the sweatshop culture has been our departure from hand-made, labour-intensive clothes made from natural substances (remember woolly knitted jumpers, anyone?) to the massive over-supply of cheap synthetics in an increasingly cut-throat market with wafer-thin profit margins.

Modeliste adds, I read all about sweatshop labour for leisurewear brands in Naomi Klein's book No Logo. It upset me so much that it was some months before I could bring myself to read another book ...