Latest news with #sustainableclothing
CTV News
06-07-2025
- Business
- CTV News
‘The community wanted this': New Whyte Ave store sells only upcycled clothes
Canadians are trashing millions of pieces of clothing each year, but some designers at the Welded Hanger in Edmonton are turning some of those pieces into art. One of Whyte Avenue's newest businesses is a clothing store that only sells locally made upcycled fashions. Welded Hanger started out as an online consignment store, but shortly after opening the brick-and-mortar space at 10336-82 Ave. in March, owner Chantal Duval realized she had overlooked its true potential. 'I just started to get more and more customers coming in, requesting items from a small upcycled rack that I had,' she told CTV News Edmonton in a recent interview. 'The community wanted this store to be this and I went with it – and now here we are: 100 per cent upcycled.' Welded Hanger sells items made by four local designers – cL Creations, Pondhopper Remixed, AWRY Studio and De Kill Designs – plus a new designer each month. Welded Hanger Welded Hanger owner Chantal Duval, left, and De Kill Designs founder Emily Whistance-Smith look through items at the upcycled shop on Whyte Avenue on July 3, 2025. (Nahreman Issa / CTV News Edmonton) Their creations are often made from pieces of discarded or thrifted garments which were damaged. 'I look for the saddest objects, the ones that have a stain or a rip and just need a new life,' said Lorraine Dezman, the woman behind Pondhopper Remixed. She started upcycling to do just that: give a second life to her young son's favourite graphic T-shirt. 'He'd worn it to death, but he loved the graphic on it, so he said, 'Mom, can you buy a new T-shirt and put this on there?' I really had never sewed before, but I tried it, and it turned out. And he loved it and wore it for years afterwards,' Dezman recalled. 'It started something in my head: You could do a lot of neat things with this.… And it also made me realize how much clothing is discarded all the time and where it ends up. And that's very sad.' According to a University of Waterloo study of the fraction of textile waste in Canada that could be reused or recycled, Canadians trash about 500 million kilograms of fabric items – clothing, but also accessories, soft toys, home textiles and more – each year. The researchers concluded more than half could be reused and nearly a quarter could be recycled. 'I want people to really shift that narrative. Just because you want something that's new and that exciting feeling, you can get that in a sustainable way,' said De Kill Designs founder Emily Whistance-Smith. She believes personal style is play as much as it is self expression. 'Funnily enough, in high school I had a mullet and I was wearing, like, granny sweaters,' the designer recalled. '(It) has taken me a lot to adjust to the fact that that's the most popular style now and I was, like, relentlessly bullied for that.... It just kind of shows you that there's never a right or wrong time to just be yourself.' Welded Hanger Lorraine Dezman, the designer behind upcycled clothing brand Pondhopper Remixed, holds up a cropped vest for sale at Edmonton's Welded Hanger shop on July 3, 2025. (Nahreman Issa / CTV News Edmonton) In fact, each upcycled piece being a totally rare, one-of-a-kind item is part of the draw. 'It's like wearable art,' Duval said. 'There's a lot of generic styles out there right now and this gives individuals who want to express themselves a little more by wearing a unique piece … the opportunity to do so. When I say that people light up when they find their piece, I think it's because they're inspired by it. It gives them a sense of pride when they put it on.' Which, in turn, makes her proud. Throughout 20 years in supply chain management in Alberta's energy industry and then the beauty industry, Duval says she never felt like she fit in. Her store seeks to serve people of all genders, economic statuses and styles. 'I want this space to be a safe space where people can come and be themselves.' The upcyclers hope to inspire others to try it on their own. 'I want people to see my stuff and say, 'Maybe I could do that,' because that's putting the power back in the consumers' hands,' Whistance-Smith said. Dezman added, 'What's the worst that can happen? The piece is already perhaps damaged. You can't go wrong.' With files from CTV News Edmonton's Nahreman Issa
The Independent
01-07-2025
- Lifestyle
- The Independent
Field to fabric: Can bioregional fashion change how we dress?
Just as farmers' markets and seasonal veg boxes have become staples of eco-conscious living, a new wave of designers, growers and makers are asking: what if our clothes came from the land around us, too? In the heart of the British countryside, a different kind of fashion story is unfolding. From handspun flax to antique fabrics salvaged from market stalls, bioregional fashion is aboutmaking garment production local. A collective of visionaries across the UK are relearning traditional craft; a quiet revolution is happening and it might just be the antidote to fast fashion we desperately need. The case for going local 'Big fashion hides its sacrifice zones from view,' says Sara Arnold, activist and co-founder of Fashion Act Now and 'It's not just about pollution. It's about labour exploitation, cultural erasure, and extractive systems that benefit the few at the expense of the many.' In contrast, Arnold sees bioregional fashion as a path back to connection. 'It's easy to forget that every piece of clothing starts with nature and hands,' she explains. 'Bioregionalism is about living in relationship with your local environment — seeing the impacts of what we make, and creating systems that are reciprocal, regenerative, and rooted in care.' is building visibility for community-led textile projects, from mills to mending circles. Arnold says: 'We map these initiatives so people can join in, but also so we can learn from each other. This is about building commons — not just supply chains, but systems of mutual support.' Fashion Act Now first came up with the concept of 'defashioning', a term that's gaining traction in activist circles. Arnold explains: 'Defashion means dismantling big fashion as a system, culture and paradigm. It's not just resisting — it's about replacing it with something else. Clothing swaps, fibre growing, shared workshops — these are all ways we reclaim our clothing cultures. It's radical in the truest sense: decentralised, regenerative, reciprocal, respectful, fair and nurturing.' For designer Nick Evans, co-founder of Fantasy Fibre Mill, the journey began with a question familiar to many: Where does my stuff come from? 'I was already eating local, seasonal food — it made sense. This mentality spread to other domains of consumption, I started asking the same questions of my clothes' he says. That led him to the Fibershed movement, a nonprofit organisation that develops local fibre systems that protect soil and connect people to the source of their clothing, and eventually to a deep dive into British-grown flax. 'There's so much potential in fibres like linen and wool,' he explains. 'But we don't have the infrastructure — the machines, the skills, the systems — to make local textile production viable at scale. That's what Fantasy is about. We're building 'infrastructure for the textile commons.'' Fantasy Fibre Mill is part lab, part community. They've collaborated on everything from handmade jeans using UK-grown flax to research projects supplying linen scrubs to NHS hospitals. 'We're not just making textiles,' Evans adds. 'We're making it possible for others to do so, too — cheaply, locally, and collectively.' Co-founded with flax expert Rosie Bristow, Fantasy Fibre Mill now prototypes accessible, low-cost flax and wool processing machines for communities across the UK and beyond. The mill collaborates on capsule projects — like UK-grown linen jeans with designer Brigitte Kaltenbacher. 'Our model is closer to a market garden than a factory,' Evans explains. 'Small, diverse, resilient. It's a complete rethink of fashion at its foundation.' Waste not, want not If rural bioregionalism grows from the soil, in cities it often grows from waste. Designer Laura Basevi has built a business turning antique fabrics, embroidered tablecloths and vintage lace into dreamy, one-of-a-kind pieces. 'I just never felt inspired by new fabric,' she says. 'But give me a 1940s cross-stitched tablecloth? I can see a whole garment in it.' Basevi's Dorset studio is full of old textiles with new stories. 'My friend lost her mum and she had a table cloth that belonged to her mother, we were going to turn into napkins. When I saw it I knew it would make an amazing kimono and it would be something that she could wear.' But her work isn't just bespoke fashion. It's also about empowerment. Through her project Rebourne, she runs workshops where people learn to upcycle their own clothes. 'You don't need to be a designer to make something beautiful,' she says. 'You just need a needle, some patience, and a good story.' Basevi sees urban waste as part of the city's natural fibre ecosystem. 'The countryside has flax and sheep. Cities have deadstock and charity shops,' she says. 'If we had textile sorting hubs like we do food co-ops, we could transform so much waste.' A garment grown with intention Justine Aldersey-Williams founder of Northern England Fibreshed embodies bioregional fashion. Her latest project with Patrick Grant, clothing manufacturer and Judge in the BBC's Great British Sewing Bee, Women Grow Jeans, documents her 600-hour journey growing, spinning and sewing Britain's only fully homegrown pair of jeans. 'I wanted to wear something I'd grown,' she says simply. 'To feel that connection — to the earth, to tradition, to craft.' The process, captured in a powerful new documentary, was about more than denim. 'Today we've been disempowered. We've been educated to be consumers instead of participants, this type of project feels incredibly empowering.' It was hard work but it's also full of joy wrapped in community connection, not just with people but with her locality. 'This is a journey, it's a relationship and it's a way for me to remind myself that my true nature is nature; I'm not separate, I'm completely interrelated with all the beings around me'. So what does post-fashion look like? According to these makers, it's personal. It's political. And most importantly, it's possible. 'It's about dignity, fairness, autonomy,' says Evans. 'It doesn't have to be beige and boring. It can be exciting and experimental — and still be good for the planet.' 'It's about finding joy in the everyday,' says Basevi. 'Wearing stories. Stitching memories. Feeling proud of what you wear because you know where it came from.' Arnold agrees: 'Bioregional fashion asks us to reimagine everything — from aesthetics to ethics. What happens when we stop dressing for profit, and start dressing for life?' In an era of climate anxiety, fast fashion, and endless scrolling, it's easy to feel detached from the natural world. But could that disconnection be driving our desire to consume more – especially when it comes to what we wear? We're conducting a short survey to explore how our relationship with nature affects our fashion habits, and whether social media plays a role in shaping our choices. It takes just a few minutes, your input is completely confidential and will help provide insight into modern attitudes on sustainability and consumption.
