Why We Should Be Asking #WhoMadeMyClothes? Before Every Purchase

The campaign #WhoMadeMyClothes? was instigated by Fashion Revolution co-founder Carry Somers after the deadliest garment factory collapse in history. The 1,138 workers that were found dead in the remains of Rana Plaza, a commercial complex in Dhaka, Bangladesh, had to stand for something and spark change. The social-media movement encouraged consumers to ask for greater transparency from brands, and for companies to keep the basic promise that their workers are seen, heard, paid properly and operating in safe conditions. Because, fundamentally, no one should have to suffer for the clothes we wear.

Six years down the line, there has been slow and steady progress. During Fashion Revolution Week 2018, 3.25 million people asked #WhoMadeMyClothes? according to Tamsin Blanchard, and the voices demanding answers are getting louder. The 2019 edition of the non-profit campaign group’s Fashion Transparency Index – which assesses brands on how much information on human rights policies, environmental practices and supply chains it will disclose to the public – saw participating companies receive an average score of 35 per cent (compared to of 12.5 per cent three years ago) for the data published on factory lists. These numbers are low but, as fellow co-founder Orsola de Castro said at the 2018 Copenhagen Fashion Summit, “the industry is built on secrecy, elitism, closed doors and unavailability. [Transparency] is disrupting the fabric of fashion as we know it.”

Until brands answer “I made your clothes” honestly and take accountability for every single person in its supply chain, an opaque shopping culture will prevail. “We can’t fix what we can’t see,” explained de Castro. “We need to make it as easy for us to see the clothes as it is to buy the clothes.”

The following five labels, who granted Vogue interview access to their garment workers, are by no means perfect, but they are progressive enough to show the talented individuals who are integral to their businesses, when countless others said no. “Transparency provides an open door,” de Castro pointed out. Here’s a look inside a micro sector of the industry in the hope that it will pique consumer curiosity, encourage visibility and raise awareness of the revolutionaries fighting to make #WhoMadeMyClothes? part of the fashion lexicon.

It’s my job to take Molly’s designs and turn them into 3D garments, but my daily routine really changes depending on where we are in the production cycle of the season. In the run up to the London Fashion Week show, I work very closely with Molly to understand how her research has manifested itself in a collection. She talks me through her sketches, the feeling of the collection and the mood she wants to create through fabric, construction and proportion – the volume is very important. Then I go off to the creative side of the studio – which is a light and airy gallery space – to make paper patterns and oversee mock-ups before we try them on someone. Tweaks are made until Molly is happy and the design is stable. I then give the information and instructions to the production team, including grading for different sizes, so they can replicate the quality for the customer.

Molly is a great boss and has a brilliant sense of humour. She really understands her vision and is very decisive – this constant communication is important for my job. Before I started in December 2015, which was near the beginning of the brand journey, I worked in the costume department of the Royal Opera House and made special commissions for people. The Rio dress Rihanna wore in 2017 is my career highlight – it’s a bit different to your everyday.

My job is to create dresses that are hand decorated with traditional Hungarian folk embroidery. I don’t have a dedicated workplace. I, along with the other craftspeople in the region, do the stitching from my home. I like taking responsibility for my part, while being mindful of the workers who design the patterns, those who make the templates, the fabric manufacturers, the embroiderers and the tailors. It’s great watching all elements of a single garment come together.

Dana [Alikhani] from Muzungu Sisters contacted me directly in Hungary five years ago and I have been stitching for the brand since. Sadly, only older people are interested in this kind of work now, but we all enjoy it nonetheless and have been doing it all our lives.

I’ve been helping to design Richard’s prints – both digital and screen – since December 2017. He gives me a proposal and we discuss what currently interests and inspires him, then we work together closely to realise his vision. The team of four (Richard included) is involved in everything from start to finish. I specialise in embroidery, textures and techniques; coordinate with clients, manufacturers and stockists; and help the students and freelancers Richard welcomes into the Peckham studio.

Studying print and textile design at Brighton University, and then conducting internships for Burberry, Print Club London and a studio in India – the reason why we have a great connection with a block-printers there now – prepared me for studio life. Richard is so open and always has new excited ideas to experiment with. I never know what will come next but being creative every day is enough for me. The Queen came to the first show I worked on – I don’t think drugs would come close to that feeling of watching a collection come together for royalty. I was so proud!

I used to work for my family textiles business until my brother Oscar and I started our own knit manufacturing company in 2006. We work hand-in-hand with a brand’s design team to create samples, test fabrics, develop new cuts and patterns, and ensure that every production season has the quality and service we previously agreed upon.

We started working with Paloma Wool on a small knitted capsule, which launched in June 2016. It's genuinely easy and pleasant to work with the brand. They're a young and dynamic team with a different perspective on fashion as a business – we feel like every contribution we make to the development of the brand is really valued.

The Le Kilt team consists of just myself and Sam [McCoach], so, in short, I help her with absolutely everything in the studio. My biggest contribution to the collections is the textile development. I look through old books for techniques that inspire me and try to apply them to the Scottish fabrics we use or are inspired by, as well as the brand aesthetic. It’s a time-consuming process perfecting this. For some seasons now, we have been using a technique that involves removing all the threads in a piece of fabric one by one and then recreating it.

This repetitive handwork means the studio is a very calm environment. When Sam is there, she puts the radio on, but otherwise I work through my to-do list in silence. This week, I have been working on some textiles that we’re sending to our manufacturer in Scotland, and then in the coming weeks I will be testing the samples that come back to our studio in Wood Green.

In September, I’ll divide my time between working for Le Kilt and doing an MA in textiles at London’s Royal College of Art. Sam is so supportive and has given me the freedom to keep developing since I started interning for her in June 2017. I moved from Portugal to further my education in fine art and sculpture, and then fashion [at Camberwell Arts College and Middlesex University, respectively], so I don’t want stop learning now.