It’s been a super busy few weeks because I took on a second job, which is actually a part time job, to cover the fact that the job I actually want to do - the one that I call my first job - is not quite a real job in that it is not real enough. This first job exists, a lot of the time, in my mind. And, while it delivers a lot (mostly for me (and for my own mind)) it is - right now anyway - not delivering on a very essential thing that, sadly, the world still revolves around: money.
So.
I’ve had to get a job that delivers that one seemingly essential thing - money. It’s a super interesting job, with lovely people and it’s in an office which means that getting dressed in the morning is - for the first time in years for me - now mandatory. It’s a job that I’ve always wanted to try and I’m pumped that, albeit it 30 years later than I had once planned, I’m now experimenting with it but it would be a lie to say that I am happy making this pivot.
I’m not.
I’m - actually - rather sad.
Maybe it is a good reality check though. Now that I’m in an office with people that are very much outside the bubble I’ve been living in (which, up until now, I had not realised that it was a bubble) it’s clear that sustainable fashion is much less a thing or, more accurately, it’s one of many, many things that demand our attentions. Yes, it’s interesting to people when I first mention that sustainable fashion is (currently) one of several side hustles I have, but the conversation quickly moves on, as conversations do. There are other things to talk about.
Such a massive contrast to last week when, for an hour or two, I attended a sustainable fashion event, with people who spend their days focused on changing fashion. The room was filled to capacity with loads of - again - lovely people (lovely people really are everywhere) but I did leave wondering if there is enough of them. After all, it was one room in a city that has thousands and thousands of rooms and millions (literally millions) of people. In a world where it feels like the tide is turning, away from an interest in sustainability and the environment more broadly, can one room of people - who have already drunk the kool aid - be enough?
It took me back to the last time I worked in a big office building. At that place, I appointed myself as both the takeaway coffee cup police and the patron saint of sustainable fashion. The former involved shaming anyone who would arrive at the office with a disposable coffee cup. The latter involved me sprinkling in random “fun facts” during all staff meetings, distributing more “fun facts” in all staff emails and, occasionally, running secret experiments, like the week I wore the same outfit to work everyday to see if anyone noticed (no-one did). Back then, people politely tolerated my behaviour, and, to a certain extent, were also interested. Today, influencing the hearts and minds of those not already in the tent feels more challenging: the issue is competing for space (there are so many issues) and everyone is tired, terribly, terribly tired.
The terrible triteness of being.
I quite like saying the word “trite”. It’s has a super sharp sound, that is very satisfying to say. Whenever I say it, I also think of trifle, a related concept but a little softer to say. In a weird quirk of the English language, trifle also brings to mind a picture of a very pleasing cream-heavy dessert.
Trifle: a thing of little value or importance.
Triteness. the quality of lacking originality, freshness, or effectiveness due to excessive repetition or overuse, often making something dull, commonplace, and uninteresting.
Is sustainable fashion a trifling thing? No, not at all. How and what our fashion is made, the impacts the processes have on people and planet and how fashion is used is of great importance if we want to continue to live in a world that is both healthy and safe.
But maybe the excitement around the issue has become, sadly (and not for me but for those that are dealing with multiple issues) a little trite, perhaps because the message, despite being absolutely accurate, is failing to excite - production and consumption patterns are bad isn’t changing behaviour (at least not as fast as we need and not for everyone).
The fight is, I think, against the terrible triteness of being.
How do we fight against that (and how do we do it when we are also tired and have to find second, third and fourth jobs)?
The only advice I have right now (mostly for myself but you might also find it useful) is that we endure. We bear it because we know that this state of disinterest is temporary only. It’s a phase that all big systems change processes must pass through (and this is one massive system change because, at its heart, we are talking about changing how we can produce so much so cheaply). Any significant change that has happened before - and that will happen again - doesn’t occur in a linear or predictable way. It’s messy and complicated and challenging and sometimes you have to geta part time job to see you through and that is, I guess, ok.
I stole both the title and the subtitle of this week’s Substack, and the subsequent way I have thought about and framed this piece, from Gang of Youths, an Australian band that I love and often include here (I imagine they are also lovely people).
The song is ‘The Deepest Sighs, the Frankest Shadows’.
The lyrics that give me hope are this:
“If everything is temporary, I will bear the unbearable triteness of being.”
On YouTube (which is where I always grab the music clip from to include here) the first comment that came up under the clip caught my attention:
“This is the type of music that makes you want to keep living. Even when you feel like all hope is lost. Their music gives me light. Infuses my bones with life.”
beyourself321
beeyourself321, I hear you.
Pump this track up people.
Your words resonate deeply this week, Julie! I feel the sadness and pressure of that corner too. Sometimes I just wonder why I didn’t do marketing or something? But then that makes me sad too… I guess a bit of sadness is just a part of being, hey? (Especially as a seriously passionate individual).