Fabric composition: 600% silk, 200% spandex

Untangling the synthetic fiber bad natural fiber good binaries.

At the start of my amorous entanglement with eBay in late 2016 I hunted down “slinky” dresses like the ones I’d seen on the runway, on the characters on Girlfriends, and on our patron saint, Carrie Bradshaw. Whenever I came across a “slinky” fabric, I’d take a picture of the fabric content tag and memorize it for the next time I saw something like it. Through this practice, I learned a little about fabric engineering and how integral it is to the construction of coveted silhouettes. 

Until 2015, I had scant fashion knowledge. Outside of heritage brands like Gucci, Prada, Loewe et al I didn’t know much outside the brands the bloggers I followed on Bloglovin’ had introduced to me. When I discovered online boutiques like Lisa Says Gah, who prioritized stocking independent designers like Maryam Nassir Zadeh, Suzanne Rae and Trademark (RIP) in 2016, I wanted to know more. I expanded my fashion knowledge by saving runway photos on Pinterest of silhouettes that were obsolete at the time, but prevalent in the 90s. One of the earliest photos I saved was Look 64 from Calvin Klein’s FW 1996 collection. In it, Kate Moss is in mid stride in a black asymmetrical spaghetti strap one-shoulder full length velvet dress. It is easy to ignore the movement of the fabric at the hem but I never forgot it. Within my first year of selling vintage, I could identify the fabric content of a garment pretty accurately. Upon revisiting that Calvin Klein dress on Kate Moss, I immediately understood the personality of the fabric from the way it draped on Moss and the fluidity of the velvet fabric at the hem.

I found Look 66 from the same collection in 2018 and it didn’t sell until late 2019 because everyone who inquired was immediately put off by its composition — a 95% rayon and 5% spandex blend. I was bewildered by the phenomenon. Two years before, I had watched as the sustainability movement began spreading like wildfire and brands’ marketing pivoted to emphasizing natural fibers as a selling point. When Na Nin Vintage was just an Instagram shop, they emphasized the natural fiber contents of their vintage goods and consumers took notice. And although I began my shop with the intention of prioritizing natural fibers, I made exceptions for beautiful silhouettes like this Calvin Klein Collection dress— I mistakenly assumed my customers would do the same. 

The one I sourced and sold.

***

The push for natural fibers, coming out of the behemoth so-called sustainability movement, introduced sexless silhouettes that plagued the industry all through the early pandemic. I, too, love the fluidity of a silk crepe kaftan dress; it is one of life’s greatest pleasures. The rumpled elegance of a linen button-down shirt on sticky sun-kissed summer skin is on the list of things I’d miss if I died. But in our zeal for natural fibers, we shunned the eroticism of engineered knits that melt onto the skin and caress your body as you move in favor of diabolical linen skirt sets and lifeless 100% silk slip dresses, and we as a society have yet to recover. I don’t want a crisp cotton dress for a night out. Give me 95% rayon and 5% spandex! 

Of course, there’s a difference between the 30% nylon, 70% spandex, 0.09% wool sweaters at Zara and semi-synthetic or purely synthetic fabric purposefully engineered to be malleable like Issey Miyake’s Pleats Please. I have 90s dresses from Donna Karan that look brand new and have maintained their shape for over 30 years. But today, many designers pick substandard synthetic fabrics and charge premium prices. And since the average customer is illiterate as to fabric engineering and quality, we’ve fallen for the sustainability movement marketing that has reduced this multilayered process to “synthetic bad, natural fiber good.” 

One of many vintage Donna Karan dresses I own. Fabric composition: (top) 95% rayon 5% acetate (bottom) 64% acetate and 36% rayon. A natural fiber cannot create this garment.

These days, I only think about fabric content within a certain context: when I am considering how the garment will drape, if it has the fit I want, maintenance and weather. My button down shirt, coat, and dress collections are perfect examples of my thought process on fabric content. I have button down shirts in 100% cotton and oxford cotton, silk, linen, wool blends, and synthetic blends. I wear my silk button downs when it is cold more than I do in the summer because silk, especially silk crepe and other tightly woven silk fabrics, shows sweat stains easily and it isn’t breathable. While shopping for going out dresses, I gravitate towards synthetic knit blends because I know that I can buy a shorter dress that will keep me warm during colder months. It also clings to my body in all the right ways that I have never been able to achieve with 100% wool or cashmere dresses. With the ever changing temperatures, I have enjoyed having outerwear in all kinds of natural and synthetic fibers. My insulated leather jacket keeps me warm, but I also kept warm on days where the temperatures fluctuated in my Giorgio Armani 38% lana wool, 34% cupro rayon, 24% viscose, and 6% polyamide nylon coat with a synthetic lining. (The combination gives this wool blend a “crepe” feel. This fabric composition is responsible for the beautiful sweep this coat has; it isn’t stiff and it melts over my clothes no matter how bulky.)

The aforementioned Giorgio Armani coat

The sustainability movement enthusiastically condemned synthetic fibers in favor of natural fibers to placate guilt-ridden consumers looking to reduce their carbon footprint. In a recent study by McKinsey & Company, more than three in five consumers claim to prioritize sustainable fibers while shopping. While this shows an admirable intention, most consumers have not sought out knowledge beyond the good vs. bad binaries constructed by marketing teams. In fact, consumers have become less knowledgeable, scoffing at anything less than 600% silk. To make matters worse, there is no standardized language for what a sustainable brand is, so brands have free will to obfuscate their processes with made up language. 

I am always unpleasantly surprised that people who obsessively buy natural fibers rarely notice the way that those fibers affect the garments they wear for protection from nature and for pleasure. My theory as to the cause of this ignorance is excess: we are unfamiliar with our clothes because we have too many and don’t wear them enough to even notice why we like or dislike them and what makes us feel at home in them. If you actually wore it often, how could you not notice that your 100% cashmere long-sleeve fine knit bags out at the elbows and shoulders because it doesn’t include a synthetic fiber, like nylon, to make it more elastic and prevent it from losing shape? 

***

As I untangled this web of good intentions, bad marketing, guilt-ridden consumers, poor decision-making, and ill-fitting garments, I noticed a pattern: the practice of restraint vs. the following of a restriction. I have been thinking about these two nouns in the context of my politics and my behaviors. The differences between these two words are subtle and I must outline them here first.

Restraint: the action of keeping someone or something under control or within limits. It also means “to moderate behavior.” To show restraint means “determined control over behavior in order to prevent the strong expression of emotion or any violent behavior. 

Restriction: something that limits someone’s actions or movement, or limits the amount, size etc, of something. 

Before I begin researching any topic, the first question I ask myself is, “how can we blame white supremacy for this?” Usually there’s a clear path but sometimes it takes mania to arrive at my hypothesis (facts). Walk with me:

When I think of restriction, veganism immediately comes to mind. I’ve had many unserious things to say about veganism in the past but in the last two years as I questioned my relationship to the earth, I considered how much we learn when we relate to other beings. It makes sense that you are repulsed by the industrial processing of animals and their byproducts in the US. I can, in a way, understand completely restricting your consumption of animal products. I get it — but I don’t see how it solves the problem of individual and systemic overconsumption habits in the west. It is only through relationships with other non-living and living beings that we learn how much harm we can cause, because through those relationships, we can receive immediate feedback. We can learn restraint in our relationship with other beings, and instead of total restriction we can begin to caution ourselves by saying, “because I can doesn’t mean I should.” 

Before the vegans reading this wet their pens for a rebuttal, I have one more thing to ask: At whose expense is your total restriction of animal products in favor of plant products?

Restraint and restriction almost mean the same things except that restraint requires one’s participation — it requires you to think. No one can show restraint for you. Restrictions are a set of prescriptions. They require only adherence, not thought. American consumption culture relies on prescriptive restrictions until someone more persuasive (usually with better marketing) comes along. Sustainability and “green” marketing almost never invite consumers to interrogate the whys, what, and how of their behaviors. Instead you’re given a guilt trip and sanctimonious restrictions and we miss out on practicing restraint. Because you can, doesn’t mean you should. 

When I consider what it means to be anti-capitalist, I consider what and who it costs to have my western comforts. For example, the Californian government offers its constituents a tax credit of up to $7500 for purchasing a new electric vehicle (EV). But this Washington Post article highlights the environmental devastation caused by nickel mining for EV batteries in Kawasaki village in Indonesia — obliterating forests and poisoning water. The reporters point out:

The surging interest in nickel is part of the global boom in demand for a range of metals used in making EVs, which typically require six times the mineral inputs of their fossil-fuel-burning counterparts to make them run. But while the transition to EVs is widely considered essential in addressing climate change, there has often been little recognition of the toll that extraction and processing of these raw materials — including technologies now urgently needed to produce the quantity and quality of minerals required — will take on the lives and livelihoods of local communities and the surrounding environment.

In other words: At whose expense are you “reducing your carbon footprint?”

In almost every article I read about veganism, the onus is on consumers to reduce their meat consumption and not on eliminating industrial scale meat manufacturers. The reason we eat so much meat in the west is because it is readily available. People adapt. We will adapt when we have less options. Veganism and electric cars aren’t bad things on their own. It is excess, industrial production, and globalism that taint these two things. I can safely guess that most people practice veganism or purchase EVs with good intentions. Unfortunately good intentions cannot justify the labor of 40000 child slaves for cobalt mining in the Democratic Republic of Congo for your fancy EVs. The way forward isn’t mass veganism which has its environmental impact especially since most of us in the west eat out of season produce year round. The way out isn’t easy and the path forward cannot be through individual actions at someone else’s expense. The path forward requires a thorough examination of our relationship to the earth and its inhabitants and embodying restraint. 

***

The natural fiber industry cannot sustain current consumer demand, especially for cashmere. Your brand new $500 cashmere sweater is already piling at the pits because the cashmere goats cannot produce raw materials for this scale of textile production. (There are no caveats for this post. There are many buts and I don’t want to hear any of them because of course there are! Of course cotton is best for underwear and more breathable than synthetic fibers during warmer months— that’s what it’s for!)

The idea that we should only wear natural fibers because it’s the most sustainable option is a myth made up to sell shapeless linen-and-flax sack dresses and saggy sweaters. You think I’d walk away from the best-fitting blazer I’ve ever owned because it has 20% polyamide? Please grow up! Is it still sustainable if you have $1000 worth of clothes delivered to you weekly? Or does your supposed commitment to sustainability cancel out because you over-purchase subpar new garments fabricated with low-quality natural fibers—most of which you’ll never wear because you don’t actually like the way they fit or feel—that have the lifespan of your fickle interest in climate justice? I don’t think climate justice and reverence for all beings involve restriction. Instead, it involves practicing self-restraint, a practice which necessarily puts us in relationship with other beings so we can learn our limits. 

The cost of convenience or of doing the right thing, should not be human lives. While we practice restraint, we must reject the notion that this is how it has to be. We must stop pretending there is no other way when the truth is that these systems have remained the same because we refuse to challenge these companies to find a better solution. We have contributed to more loss in human lives so that these companies can make the most amount of money and we can have our comforts. Infinite economic growth is not possible. 

Any true solutions to climate change will have to be systemic. On the level of human behavior, a path forward will lie in correcting overconsumption, not replacing one consumer choice with another, supposedly more sustainable, option. It’s better to have clothes you like and wear—clothes that you’ll still like and wear in five years—than to have a 100% natural fiber wardrobe you replace weekly. But that requires you to learn about what makes a garment good and why you like what you like. It requires knowledge and the practice of restraint instead of mindless — and quickly abandoned — restriction.

***

I will not outline simple practices to absolve your guilt over being white, living in the United States or the Western hemisphere writ large, living in material comfort, etc. I hope that, instead of demanding recipes that will be quickly abandoned, everyone reading this will sit with their gluttonous habits and forge an approach to curbing their consumption. 

Instead of fashion crash diets like 75 days no buy, try spending those 75 days reading about the origins of cashmere, from raw materials to the $50 cashmere sweater Quince is selling. You will stop over-consuming if you are empathetic. It begins with cultivating reverence for the time, energy, and resources that went into making a single garment. 

In that spirit, I talked to Nayila, my bridal couturier, about natural fibers and what she pays attention to when it comes to a fabric’s function.

Nayila Wright: I pay attention to fabric content also for breathability of the fabric and durability. When you hear 100% cashmere, you think, “wow amazing!” But some of your knits should have a little bit of acrylic or nylon or even polyester mixed in there because it makes them more durable. Then you don't have to wash it every time you wear it because it's not stretching out after every single wear. And there's also less pilling as well. 

Subrina Heyink: Yes! I have a Donna Karan knit that's 100 % cashmere turtleneck knit that’s very lightweight and sheer. After the first wear, I wished it had 5% nylon. The material “bags out” in all the areas I stretch, you know? Around my elbows and even around the neckline. And all this happened within two hours of wearing it. 

SH: As a wedding dressmaker, do you have any resistance to using synthetic fibers?

NW:  No, I don't have any issues with synthetic fibers because it depends on what it's being used for, a lot of them have their place. For our most recent bride, we knew immediately that we wanted a fabric with a liquid effect, and you’re not going to find that in a natural fiber. But then we used a lightweight silk lining which ensures she doesn’t sweat profusely on her big day. The only times I have issues with synthetic fibers are when they're used as a lining. They’re better as the outer shell because they can take all the beating without causing you discomfort as a lining. I know we use a lot of polyester right now because it’s cheaper but, synthetic and natural fiber blends are amazing.  It's like the best of both worlds.

If designers use synthetic fibers to create something cheap, then I'll have an issue with it. But if it's used with intention, then I have no problem. 

SH: You just hit the heart of people's prominent complaints about synthetic fiber, sweat and foul odor. I do not have this issue, ever. Most of my synthetic garments are for cold weather and so I get the benefits of how insulating they are. I even prefer wool socks mixed withnylon; I stay warm in those. I primarily wear natural fibers in the warmer months. Literacy is essential in our approach to incorporating natural fibers in our wardrobes.

NW: If people understood the common properties of fibers, it would be a huge start. Polyester is a moisture wicking material. ( A moisture-wicking fabric has two jobs: quickly moving (or wicking) sweat to the fabric's outer surface and drying rapidly so that your sweat doesn't saturate the fabric.) That’s why cotton isn’t the official fabric for performance fabrics because it doesn’t try as quickly as cotton. 

A lot of people claim silk is a strong durable fiber and I agree that in its raw state as a fiber, silk is strong. But once it’s processed into fabric, it is one of the most delicate fabrics you can own. It degrades easily from body sweat, oils, and other natural elements.

SH: I think people need to think about what they need their clothes to do. Are you a commuter who likes the fluidity of silk but you’re scared to wear silk on the subway? Consider semi-synthetics like rayon and viscose! I want people to think beyond these binaries and marketing language. I want people to consider what makes sense for them. Because even with natural and synthetic fibers there are so many kinds based on how it is produced. What you gain in durability might be lost in style or might require spending more to acquire so think about what you want the garment to do. 

NW: Many people also don’t know that industrial-scale production of natural fibers also has its environmental impacts. I don’t think people realize viscose is made from wood pulp. 

SH: Wow. I fear the sustainability movement has obscured the fabric production processes, and designers can’t even confidently tell you about their supply chain for the fabrics they use. So could you explain what viscose is?

NW: So viscose is a type of rayon and rayon is a semi synthetic fabric that’s made from cellulose which can be found in plants. A lot of it is made from wood pulp. You’re harvesting and wasting so many trees just for the pulp and spinning it into a yarn. The yarn is rayon. But it requires so many trees and resources to produce.

SH: But cotton also has massive environmental impacts. I was reading Sundressed by Lucianne Tonti and I am taking some of it with a grain of salt. She extensively covers cotton farming and how dangerous the current practices are for the soil and the earth. She doesn’t ignore that the main problem is also the scale of production, which I appreciated. So when we think of the environmental impact, we cannot individualize it because we’ll end up with one good action to cover up ten bad decisions. 

I have to change gears quickly because I want to talk about the malleability of synthetic fabrics. There are restrictions to how you can manipulate natural fibers before they lose their integrity but you can do so much to polyester. Considering the silhouettes synthetic fibers can create is crucial to purchasing garments not only for protection, societal expectations, but also for pleasure. I assume that people are cycling through so many clothes because they don’t like what they have and don’t know why because they’re focused on checking lists. Instead of pretending that the solution is that we all wear linen sacks or blame the environmental disaster, we are living through on dressing for pleasure, I wonder how much we would benefit from observations instead of prescriptions. Have you noted why you wear one shirt over the thirteen others you have that are similar but not quite to it?

I am also wondering about repairs and stain removal. Could you give insight into how synthetic and natural fibers respond to those? Are natural fibers easier to repair and treat?

NW: Synthetic and natural fibers have different approaches for repair and treatment, and one isn’t more complex than the other. If it’s an organic natural fiber, you have to be careful of how you remove a stain from it because you don’t want to degrade the fibers. But synthetics don’t stain easily but once it’s stained, they don’t easily come out.

SH: Can you bleach polyester?

NW: No you can’t. You can stain removers that work for synthetic fibers. If you want to use bleach on natural fiber and don’t want it to turn green or yellow, mix it with a lot of water to dilute it. 

Back to repairs. If something has a hole in it and you want to repair the hole and their both woven materials, silk or polyester. A weave is a weave regardless of the fiber. Looking closely at any woven fabric, you will see overlapping fibers that look like a grid. That grid is there regardless of whether it is polyester, silk, or rayon because fabric is a grid of fibers. You can repair the hole by reaching into the grid and weaving using a similar fiber to cover the hole. There are people who specialize in this. Most alterations specialists cannot do this. 

SH: I feel like durability, malleability, and other properties affect how much we like and wear our clothes more than reducing them to natural or synthetic fibers. I'm perplexed when people complain about discomfort with wearing natural fibers because that just hasn’t been my experience. I feel like there are grades for synthetic and synthetic blends, correct?

NW: Absolutely there are! For example, the fabric we used for our last bride is 100% polyester, and it is so fine and delicate it’s one of the highest grades of polyester. There is so much effort in making such a fine weave; not every factory can produce such a fine weave. 

What to consider while shopping

I wrote this newsletter, “You’re focused on the wrong thing when you shop,” as a guide for what to consider while shopping. I briefly discuss the benefits of synthetic fibers and more. In addition to that newsletter, here are a list of more things to consider while shopping:

1. Polyester technology has evolved since it entered the mainstream in the 50s, but it hasn’t shaken off its bad reputation for producing foul odors after each wear. When I first posted about my problems with the synthetic and natural fiber binaries, the number one complaint was the awful smell after sweating. I responded to one of the people who DMed me by suggesting she should wear polyester during cool weather and not in the summer. The next day she bought a full zip polyester jacket she really liked after almost a decade of swearing off synthetic fibers. 

   Silk can also carry the same musty smell like synthetic fibers if you sweat a lot. I prefer wearing purely synthetic fibers as outerwear for performance because they are durable. You cannot wash silk as much as you wash polyester. I can wear the same workout leggings to Pilates 3 or 4 times before needing to change it because I disinfect it with a 1:4 alcohol water spray solution after each wear. If you have a lingering scent on your synthetic fibers after laundering, you are not sanitizing your clothes properly. Try the Lysol laundry sanitizer, or you can soak your clothes in a 1:4 ratio of vinegar and water during the rinse cycle. 

   Avoid wearing synthetic fibers after June and before October, except for performance garments. I prefer synthetic blends over purely synthetic garments so I can get away with wearing them year-round depending on the style. If you sweat more, consider saving synthetics for cooler months. 

2. Is it the style you want? I ask my clients this every time they share a 100% silk garment with me and the emphasis is on fabric composition and not the style. Strictly buying natural fibers might lead you to assemble a wardrobe of tragically shapeless garments and an unending existential dread every time you have to dress up. I love a linen kaftan (I just bought one recently) but the weight of the linen and style of the kaftan are what made me get it. The linen is almost sheer, and the dress has a large opening on the chest, which is my kind of eroticism. Buy the style you like; you’ll wear it longer than the 100% silk Peter Pan collar button-down that doesn’t work with anything else you own. 

3. Be honest about your capacity to care for the various natural, synthetics, and blends you own. I buy very few 100% silk garments these days because I no longer have the time for handwashing. If you cannot shoulder the cost of dry cleaning or the time for handwashing, consider less precious fibers. 

4. Embrace the mess. I fear that most of us are too precious about our clothes. In a conversation with people who need their clothes to work for them, I noted that most hate what they wear because they fear ruining their “good” clothes. But what is the point of good clothes if they spend more time on hangers and not on our bodies? You will only learn how much a fabric can endure by wearing it. Practice restraint not restriction! I’m embracing the occasional holes in my cashmere sweaters and stains on my silk dresses. Wear what you want to wear, and embrace the mess. You’re alive!

5. I’m washing my clothes less and experimenting with disinfecting my clothes instead. I have a black silk button-down shirt I wash once a year because I wear it no more than 4-5 times, and a steam and vinegar spray is enough to remove the odors.