My Yellow Shirt

My yellow shirt may be a small creation, but it represents a huge wealth of new understanding. 

A Sunday morning trip to Spotlight is a daunting proposition to any fashion novice. The never-ending library of fabrics starts to blur my gaze and the funky patterns cause a searing headache. I quickly lock my focus onto a lone piece of buttery-yellow fabric peeking out from a pile below my eye line. My mind races to Bananas in Pyjamas, I like those guys. This split-second decision decided the colour for my first ever homemade t-shirt. 

Spotlight doesn’t lend kindly to those with no sewing experience. There is an eerie mood in the air as I can feel the stares of regulars spotting a clear outsider. 

I walk up to the counter and place down the yellow fabric, reciting my girlfriend’s mother’s name for a shameless discount. A slanted smirk on the cashier’s face shows she senses my lack of confidence and belonging in this hostile environment. 

“How many metres?” 

“Uh, 1.5 I guess.” 

By this point, I’m already regretting my decision to step out of my comfort zone. The comfort zone looks especially comfy at this uncomfy moment in time, as I witness how much my 1.5 metres of banana-like fabric and butter coloured thread will cost. 

This 35-dollar purchase hurt. I expect the hurt was like a sewing needle piercing the nail of your little finger - but we soldier on. 

I’ve never made my own clothes before. Mainly because I’m clumsy, my fingers tend to struggle to work coherently with my brain and my creative flame never sparked as a young adult. 

You see, making a shirt is no simple task for your average 21-year-old. I thought the process of sourcing and sewing a shirt would take a mere hour. You know, chuck two bits of fabric together, cut a head hole and voila – how hard could It be? 

Alas, for the next four hours I am curled up in front of a sewing machine cutting shapes, sewing wonky lines and losing my mind to piece together this yellow monstrosity. My poor fingers are cramped, my back is aching and the only thing keeping me from giving up is that I’ve gone too far to stop. 

Sewing is a gruelling act of labour that is swept under the rug and given the illusion of being an easy and relaxing pastime. My infamous first job of stealing Christmas trees from hilly lots in the Wairarapa was tough, but I would undoubtedly rather get the axe back out than try to pin fabric that won’t keep still. 

As a few more hours tick over, my yellow creation starts to take form. An arm pops up, a second unravels from the body, the neckline widens, and the seams come together, leaving me with my first ever sown creation. 

After over six hours of toiling, poking and prodding, plus an additional six hours of my girlfriend’s patience, I feel a soothing sense of relief rush through my body. I just created something I can be proud of. 

This accomplishment is quickly met with a sudden moment of realisation. 

Why did it take me six hours, cost me 30 dollars, and ruin my physical wellbeing to make a shirt that I can buy for $10 down the road? 

When we factor in the wages of employees, upkeep of the factories, storage, labelling and transport - $10 is never a justified price point. 

Frankly, I would be pissed if I saw my yellow shirt on the discount rack at the warehouse for that price. 

I’ve heard this idea of reduce, reuse, recycle my entire life – but I have subconsciously ignored the important steps of reducing and reusing. 

So often as students we follow the trend of op-shopping and thrifting and pat ourselves on the back for this form of recycling. When in reality, we might wear these recycled clothes two times and go shopping again the next weekend only to get rid of what we bought the weeks prior. 

I’m far from perfect when it comes to sustainability. I try to make the right choice when I can see the dilemma in front of me, but most times I can’t see it. 

 I urge all you other fashion novices to take that daunting trip to Spotlight, find your fabric and depart on this tough but rewarding journey. 

What you’ll emerge with is a newfound appreciation for the work that goes on behind the brands, and your own yellow shirt to cherish for years. 

Over my lifetime, I have fallen victim to the ‘cheaper is better’ mindset for my own selfish reasons. Although I don’t want to excuse my poor behaviour, I believe I had this mindset because I hadn’t had an experience to quantify how badly overconsumption and a lack of upcycling has on the environment. 

What we consume determines the kind of world we live in. Buying a $10 t-shirt says you are okay with this status quo. 

You’re not a bad person for buying cheap clothing, just make sure you treat it like you made it, love it like it’s worth $1000. 

If we treat each piece with kindness and extend their longevity by fixing rips and tears, we are contributing a positive change to the fashion industry and environment. 

My yellow shirt isn’t the nicest, hell, I’d even say it’s borderline ugly – but I love this shirt. All the time, effort and sacrifice invested in my wonky collared ball of bright yellow means I will fix it when it tears and look after it for as long as I can. 

The cost of a shirt: 

 $29 for fabric 

$7 for thread 

6 hours of living wage 

6 more hours of my girlfriend’s time 

A new appreciation for those who make our clothing