If you’re like me, you love a great fashion find. (At fortuknit, we call them fortuknit finds ❤️). You love to shop at your favorite stores and walk out (or click “Confirm Order”) feeling like you just treated yourself to something special. You know your style, you know what looks great on you, you have your favorite colors and you enjoy a little shoe/handbag roulette. You probably have a closet full of things to wear and usually spend most of your “getting ready” time deciding on what not to wear that night. You always throw on something cute, even on your most casual of days. You are very well put together and people often compliment you on your style wherever you go. You love having a bit of variety in your wardrobe—enough, but not excessive.

If you’re also like me, getting to know your personal style took time. You had women around you like your mother, your aunts, sisters, demonstrating their style and unknowingly influencing yours. You put pieces together and probably didn’t get it right more than once. Then, you picked up the latest InStyle, Vogue, or Marie Claire, which demanded that you wear this color or buy that bag or wear this hairstyle. Or, you worked at one of your favorite retail stores and had first access to the hottest trends, having already mentally spent your paycheck before it even hit your account. So many outside influences told you how you should dress, what’s acceptable, what’s not, and made sure that you knew the rules of proper fashion sense.

I grew up in the 90s, where there wasn’t a lot of fashion influence in the media who looked like me—brown, child of an immigrant, first-generation American. And as a child of an immigrant, I had the added difficulty of being the recipient of hand-me-downs. At least, back then, I saw it as a difficulty because it wasn’t “cool.” Classmates would tease and ask, “where did you get that?”. I didn’t value those items because it wasn’t the newest, latest, hottest fashion item. But secondhand clothing is a major part of Caribbean culture. I even recently learned that it’s an integral part of the culture in parts of Africa. Though the term for hand-me-downs varies from country to country, in Ghana, it specifically translates to “Dead White Man’s Clothes.” In St. Vincent and the Grenadines, where my family is from, many people call it “bodow.” The word, newly coined after the 1979 eruption, stems from the sound of the volcanic blasts from La Soufrière, It eventually became associated with the donations sent to the evacuees, who were in need of clothing and other necessary items.

Even though the word “bodow” is fairly new, in the Caribbean, getting a barrel shipped from America has always been sustainable, sensible fashion, that oftentimes brings about a sense of pride. That someone was able to provide something you may not have otherwise had is culturally acceptable. As long as I can remember, secondhand clothing has always been a part of my Caribbean culture, but not necessarily my American culture. To this day, the women on my mom’s side of my family often get first pick from the collection of clothes that no longer fits or is ready to be donated to a good home. (Even my sister’s wedding gown has made an appearance in multiple weddings!) Throwing away clothing has never really been an option. What I’ve always known as normal is now becoming popular.

There’s been a shift in mainstream fashion, focusing on the impact of clothing on our environment—how it’s made, how we shop for it, and what we do with it once we decide it no longer suits us. I recently attended a really interesting webinar hosted by New York Times Events and The New York Times, where they presented a panel discussion called, “Can Fashion Influencers Persuade Us to Consume Less?” (Full discussion below if you’re interested in watching.)

As a consumer who loves fashion and as a business owner who creates and sells slow fashion, I was interested to hear the diverse perspectives on fashion influence, sustainability, climate change, and the shifting fashion climate. I took it as a personal challenge to assess my own habits in shopping, but I also took it as a moment to appreciate my personal background. I’m happy to see that more people are taking the approach that has always been a part of my heritage. It will be interesting to see how big brands and small businesses alike will change the rules and trajectory of fashion to become one that benefits us all. It’s also good to know that as a slow fashion, small business brand, fortuknit is able to contribute by handmaking items that can be loved and cherished for a long time.