TLChappell Author Photo.jpg — Toni Chappell

Toni Chappell is a former journalist from the United States currently working on her PhD in Creative Writing at Bath Spa University. She has two daughters who have taught her everything she knows.

I have more than a dozen bras. I know. And yes, I am embarrassed.

I am so embarrassed, in fact, that I will not tell you the exact number but suffice to say it is more than required and less than outlandish, but only by a smidge.

I am telling you this as an act of atonement. A first step.

This is my confession: I am a privileged white woman who has used my good fortune and comfortable financial situation to attempt to buy happiness or at the very least bolster my confidence following a rush of inadequacies that overtook me following my divorce at age fifty. I don’t have a lot to say about the bras other than they seem to be the one item of clothing that provided me the most support, and I’m sorry I didn’t recognize my bra-issue until recently.

I am taking steps. The first is to acknowledge and update the beliefs that led me to this place: here on my knees, in front of this box on wheels that fits beneath my bed and is stacked front-to-back with under-things just like the best-laid drawers in the posh boutique London bra salon that supplied them.

It was guilt brought me around initially. The guilt I felt swiping through various memes, posts, photos, shared videos from XR, Greta (you wonderful, smart, courageous young woman), and those from friends and family who are either way ahead of me or in step thinking, ‘Surely we are doing ‘enough.’ I am vegetarian, after all. I recycle. I even separate the foil caps from the tiny plastic bowls that hold my contact lenses and walk each of those things out to their respective bins. That’s something, isn’t it? I ask myself. Yes, I answer under my breath. That is something. But is it enough? Not nearly.

I am growing tired of things. Tired of acquiring. Tired of taking. I am sensing the weight of my body on this planet, I feel the impact of my footprints. Personal action is imperative: to tread more lightly, be more thoughtful, to hold myself to account.

“I am sensing the weight of my body on this planet, I feel the impact of my footprints.”

So, I am back to the bras and other such stuff. I know it seems a minor thing. Certainly, there are far more immediate and serious concerns. I know. I am also aware that it is the little things that change the world, and the ‘haves’ in our midst tend to have lots of little things, do lots of little things. The ‘haves’ in reality are in a position to effect the greatest change. Privilege expects a certain level of convenience and/or efficiency and/or provenance and/or quality and/or presentation. I have found that so. Privilege needs to get out ahead of the entitlements that privilege deems trivial, but which in fact have a massive impact on the planet, our communities, our children.

As explained on this very website, mass production of cheap clothing is a major concern, and so is the insane amount of money corporations spend creating and marketing the latest expensive and on-trend pieces. Clothing is only a place to start. I know. One of many, but an important step. What we purchase, why we want it, who makes it, what do they earn, where it is manufactured, what chemicals are involved, where do they go, how are these products shipped, and what happens when my garments no longer have a place in my closet? What criteria should we be looking at?

‘Check your privilege’ is not an admonition. Privilege very often leads to complacency, as though having more somehow inoculates us against being better. Privilege can embellish small acts of eco-awareness and allow us the false impression that we are measuring up to the crisis at hand. Challenging everyday habits is important, of course, and considering ‘what else’ is vital. It is helpful to note that privilege often operates from a place of comfort and entitlement that the bearer of privilege may not fully appreciate. Let us not get mired in judgement and condemnation, but instead examine our own actions and behaviours to see where they might be modified and adjusted.

I am only this far in my journey, trivial as it sounds, but I AM here. Me and the bras. I can only hope to grow and learn from experience, my own and those of the people with whom I surround myself.

“I can only hope to grow and learn from experience”

Here is my pledge starting with clothing: I will stay away from the big clothing retailers; ask about the provenance, manufacturing process, and distribution models of the clothing I purchase; shop first and foremost at charity shops and consignment stores in order to repurpose and recycle; reduce and eliminate online purchases in order to minimize the carbon footprint created by their transport to my front door; seek out small independent businesses with an environmentally friendly, sustainable, humane ethos (check out Certified B Corporations); define ‘need vs. want vs. entitlement’ each and every time I reach into my wallet.

This is my confession. I am a privileged middle-aged white woman. I have the means to indulge: more than some, less than others. I make choices I justify as part and parcel of a standard of living. I have fed my entitlements, and allowed myself to remain comfortably and not so innocently, ignorant. I can apologize for that. And I do. But apologies don’t move the ball forward. One step, then another, then another. That is what gets us down the field. I am charting a new path and encouraging those around me without judgement. This is my pledge.