Brandy Melville and the Consequences of Fast Fashion
Recently, I watched the new Brandy Melville documentary streaming on Binge, Brandy Hellville & the Cult of Fast Fashion. For all those Aussies who haven’t heard of Brandy Melville, it’s basically the equivalent of a Supré – but imagine less neon, more California streetwear.
The first time I heard of Brandy Melville was when I was living in the United States and working in retail. One day my co-worker came in wearing the cutest little cropped t-shirt that sat perfectly above her belly button and wrapped around her petite waist. It had some cheesy slogan and a tiny cartoon in the centre. I wanted one for myself so I asked her where she bought it.
“Brandy,” she shrugged.
I had no idea who Brandy was, so inquired more.
A few minutes later, I was scrolling through the brand’s social media account, seeing photos after photos of teenage girls wearing cute outfits like my friend. It was such a VIBE. I wanted in.
I soon learned that there was a Brandy Melville store right around the corner from where I was working. During my lunch break I went to check it out and see what this cool-girl hype was all about. As soon as I walked into the store, I was surrounded by tables piled with clothes – crop tops, jean shorts, graphic tees, plain tees, sweater pants, cargo pants – it was like any trendy store, the only difference was this had an aura of chaos, like the shop assistants didn’t know how to neatly fold a shirt. Tween girls offered me the side eye as I asked the assistant for my size, only to discover that the brand stocked one size – each label reading ‘One Size Fits All.’ What the fuck, I thought. This was 2019 and I was shocked that a clothing store still promoted products like this; where was the backlash? The online hate? I certainly wasn’t the first woman to raise concerns about this type of marketing.
But, I didn’t leave…
I secretly wanted at least one item of clothing that fit me. If I could find a top or jacket that fit my love-handled 5ft10, size 12 frame then I would be a part of that collective of thin, on-trend cool girls.
I found a plain grey cardigan and tried it on over my collared shirt. It fit. Well, kind of. I couldn’t do up the buttons in fear one would pop off and poke an eye out. But who does buttons up on a cardigan anyway! I bought it and truly thought at the time that I was privileged to be part of the ‘One Size Fits All’ club.
That was the cult of Brandy Melville, promoting this ideal ‘cool girl’ to vulnerable teenagers that only a fair few could live up to. It was a narrow form of perfection that popularised the paper-thin physique with California beach blonde hair and an effortless style. If teens didn’t fit their one size then they were seen as worthless.
Inside a Brandy Melville store in Barcelona.
Source: Joe Shlabotnik
The rise of fast fashion
Directed by Academy Award winner Eva Orner, the documentary focuses the rise of Brand Melville and the outdated marketing tactics that perpetuated self esteem issues and fatphobia within young teenage girls.
The company was founded in Italy during the 1970s by Silvio Marsan, however didn’t rise to popularity until their first store in Los Angeles opened in 2009. Under the leadership of Silvio’s son Stephan Marsan, the company grew its fanbase on Instagram with posts directed at teens, and for selling the infamous one size – which they now label as ‘One Size Fits Most’…
Brandy Hellville & the Cult of Fast Fashion dives straight into the allegations of exploitation, bigotry, and antisemitism. Workers within the stores were often hand-picked on the street for their looks, style, and whiteness, not for their customer service skills or retail experience, and they were fired if they didn’t fit the body type of what CEO Marsan wanted. Girls of colour were also forced to work in the stock room not on the shop floor with customers, a move that highlighted Marsan’s racist and neo-nazi inclinations.
What was really fascinating was how the documentary shifted to explore the intricacies of the vicious cycle of fast fashion and the repercussions on third-world nations like Ghana. In what is one of the more poignant parts of the documentary, viewers are shown images of beaches covered in dense rejected clothing, to the point where water in the region has become contaminated. Take a look at any of the labels on these discarded garments and we find Zara, Shein, H&M, Uniqlo, Brandy Melville, and more iconic retailers.
Not to mention, the exploitation of people in sweat shops and factories right around the world who are making these items of clothes, most of whom are women, overworked in horrendous conditions.
Sarah Johnson from The Guardian explains the process in Ghana:
Donated clothes come from countries including the UK, US and China and are sold to exporters and importers who then sell them to vendors in places such as Kantamanto in Accra, one of the world’s largest secondhand clothing markets and sees 15 million garments every week, of which 40% is waste.
Kantamanto is a sprawling complex of thousands of stalls crammed with clothes. As fast fashion – cheap clothes bought and cast aside as trends change – has grown, the volume of clothing coming to the market has increased while the quality has gone down.
The fact that our so-called second hand ‘goods’ are forced upon another country, a country that does not have the infrastructure or capacity to manage or destroy unwanted fabrics is just another form of waste colonialism.
Your favourite brands are probably lying to you
Those big fast fashion brands, like Brandy Melville, Zara, and Boohoo, are all too familiar with skewing the truth about how sustainable their products are. Over the years, as people’s desire for environmentally-friendly practices have increased, many companies have been accused of providing false or misleading environmental claims as part of their marketing strategy. This is otherwise known as ‘greenwashing’, which makes a business appear more environmentally beneficial than they really are.
While it may seem like it’s difficult to tell whether something is sustainable or not, Brandy Hellville & the Cult of Fast Fashion highlights some of the key ways you can ensure you’re being considerate of the environment.
Use and reuse what you already own. Opt for tailoring items that are not in fashion anymore or passing them on to a friend to enjoy.
Avoid purchasing items from those nasty fast fashion retailers (Shein is shit!)
Spend a little more money on clothing that is going to last longer than something purchased from a fast fashion retailer. Most likely, the more pricier item will last for years to come.
Try thrifting. Instead of dumping off your hoards of cheap clothing to those op shops, why not buy what’s on their racks. Recycling used goods (by this, I mean buying someone else’s used items, not dropping yours off) is the easiest way to know whether you are making an environmentally conscious decision.
I encourage everyone to think before buying from fast fashion stores like Brandy Melville. While it may be easy and convenient in the moment, consider the repercussions the clothing will have once you’ve finished with it.
You’ll be happy to know that after watching the documentary, I decided to recycle that plain grey Brandy cardigan I bought all those years ago. It was the biggest waste of $25, I probably only ever wore it once. Now I use it to clean the cobwebs in my apartment – that cardigan has gotten more wear from removing dust on the ceiling than gathering dust in the wardrobe. Now that’s recycling!