It’s been hot enough in Baltimore this summer to make folks nostalgic for the good old days. A time before the effects of climate change were a daily part of our painful reality. Before intense mass production. Before synthetic materials were disseminated around the country.

Fortunately, people yearning for the past is one of the best things for the environment.

Ecologically conscious Baltimoreans’ investment in buying old stuff has become integral to sustainable living. That’s particularly true when it comes to clothing and the fight against fast fashion, which overflows landfills with production waste.

Fast fashion refers to garments that are mass-produced quickly and cheaply to satisfy the increasing demands of consumers. Brands that utilize that process, such as Forever 21, H&M and Shein, all have significant environmental impacts.

The fashion industry is on track to increase its greenhouse gas emissions by more than 50% by 2030, according to the nonprofit Ellen MacArthur Foundation. Fast fashion accounts for 10% of yearly carbon emissions globally, which is more than all international flights and maritime shipping, according to the foundation.

For Mount Vernon vintage shop owner Donna Jenkins, “classic, well-made garments” are the way to go, especially when surrounded by synthetically made pieces.

“I strive to buy natural fibers. So, I have linens and silks, there are some polyesters, but I strive for something that’s going to last longer than, say, something that’s made by Shein,” the Enigmatology owner said. “I feel like people who want something secondhand want … a better-quality item that will last them longer.”

A study led by Peter Ross of the Ocean Wise Conservation Association in Canada revealed in 2020 that roughly 73% of microplastic particles in the Arctic Ocean were from polyester.

“It’s not a good deal if you’re getting something for under $10 and its 100% polyester — well, 100% petroleum oil — and it’s not going to last and you’re not going to feel comfortable in it,” Jenkins said.

When she was starting out in the 1970s and ’80s, warehouses kept bales of up to 1,000 pounds of recycled clothing from the 1920s and ’30s. Those “rag houses” in and around the Washington, D.C., area were an example of what could be done about textile waste and an escape from the polyester prison of popular disco wear, according to Jenkins.

The shop owner has seen attitudes change over time, including the way increasing numbers of customers shop more sustainably.

“I saw, when I started, kids would come in and their parents would go, ‘This is secondhand, I’m not paying $5, it’s used,’” Jenkins said. “And now, parents come in and they shop, too, because they don’t want to buy new stuff.”

The Ellen MacArthur Foundation reported that the fashion industry uses enough water to meet the needs of five million people, and 20% of wastewater comes from dyeing and treating textiles.

Nancy Hotchkiss, who has a background in conservation education, is the site director of Pigtown’s SCRAP Creative Reuse, a nonprofit network that wants to build community and fill the “craft desert” gaps by recycling donated materials and using creativity to promote sustainability.

“America has a buying problem, and businesses have a packaging problem. Because if you’re buying pompoms for your kid’s school project, I don’t need 100 pompoms,” Hotchkiss said. “They’re packaged in ways that create a lot of excess and then here we are making sure it doesn’t end up in the landfill, and knowing that somebody’s going to use it.”

Hotchkiss said SCRAP has been successful in keeping around 70 tons of waste out of Baltimore landfills since starting up in the summer of 2016.

“We’ve all gotten very spoiled by, ‘Oh I can just click on the computer and it will show up tomorrow.’ We don’t think about all the different steps that go into that,” Hotchkiss said. “You order it, it gets manufactured in another country, it gets shipped over here, it then goes to a warehouse, and then gets into a truck and that then gets to your house.”

Mount Vernon resident Sonya Norko upcycles and has shopped at SCRAP for project materials. She’s also a frequent customer at The Biddle, a Black-owned thrift shop near Penn Station. Norko uses some of the pieces she buys to make her own designs, sewing together different garments to make new ones.

She believes it’s important that secondhand shopping is accessible if it’s to be good for the planet. She said the amount of material bought and sold through the Biddle shop is abundant, and people are invested in staying away from buying brand new products.

“If I find something that inspires, I’ll buy it, I’ll change it up. If it’s slightly damaged, I’ll fix it,” Norko said. “Buying new is unsuccessful a lot. I don’t find often a lot of the stuff that I want.”

Shopping at local thrift stores has been a way of being involved with the community while also dismissing the major corporate clothing retailers looking to maximize profit that intrinsically creates more waste, Norko said.

Danyell “Danny” Williams, owner of Illicit Rag Vintage near Belvedere, also understands the difference in quality of life for the producers behind long-lasting garments versus the people who work to produce fast fashion garments for large companies.

“Stuff that I wear, a lot of it, somebody’s grandmother made it,” Williams said. “She took her time, she put her heart into it, she put her soul into it, when there are people that are getting paid like $10 a month and barely that.”

One commonality the vintage shops share is a lot of environmentally conscious young customers interested in lessening the impact garments have. Students from Baltimore School for The Arts, Maryland Institute College of Art and others tend to be some of their most frequent clientele.

Williams said the younger crowds her shop attracts are sometimes looking to buy vintage because they are aware of the waste associated with clothing manufacturing, while others may be looking for a good deal. But their impact still matters.

“I have four colleges within like a 5-mile radius, so I have a lot of the kids that are coming in, and that’s what they’re looking for, they’re looking for vintage. Some of them are just looking for vintage Levis, but like I said, that’s a start,” Williams said.

The preservation of quality fashion and materials for their history can be an “archeological” pursuit, Hotchkiss said.

Whether someone is looking to create a new article of clothing from the older remnants of others, or just find a classic piece, shopping at vintage and thrift stores continues to be an avenue for creativity, education and unified waste reduction. By buying garments from the past, there’s potential for everyone to still look cool in the future.