What my writing is really about

Trying to make sense of being human in the midst of so much turmoil

Photo by Marcus Woodbridge / Unsplash

Thanks to everyone for their feedback in last week’s newsletter, it’s really interesting to see how people feel about my writing. I hardly ever spend my time with other writers, let alone the people reading my work — most days I just get out of bed, hang out with my girlfriend for a bit while we have breakfast, then head into my co-working space and get to work. So getting your perspective is so helpful, and it always will be — seriously, don’t hesitate to drop your own thoughts down in that comment box, that’s literally what it’s there for.

A few hours ago, I did an interview with Bricks magazine on how to build a career as a writer. One thing I mentioned was that back in my Highsnob days, I wasn’t just publishing my own writing and the rest of the team’s, I was also working with freelancers — commissioning them, editing their work, making sure they got paid, etc. etc. So I knew pretty early on how much money you could make as a freelance writer in fashion and honestly, it’s not much at all. You’d have to really, really hustle just to scrape a living from it — which is why so many editors get into consulting or marketing, or just quit and do something else entirely. As I wrote last week, the internet age has completely devalued writing to the point where it feels almost impossible to make a living from it. So even as I was writing my book, I always had that thought in the back of my mind: you can’t make money from writing.

I’m very, very happy to be proved wrong about that. I’m starting to get to a point where the majority of the money I make comes from my own words. I’m still doing freelance jobs on the side, but if things keep going the way they’re going, I’ll get to a point where I can concentrate just on my own work — that means this newsletter, but also more books (over 10k copies sold of the first one, just ICYMI!).

Hamilton Nolan, one of my new favorite Substackers, wrote that writing isn’t art, it’s a craft. And a random Lana Del Rey review I stumbled across on Pitchfork a while ago said the job of the writer is “to whittle the raw material of life into meaning, worth preserving”. The relationship between a writer and their audience isn’t the same as an artist or musician, and this isn’t jazz improv or impressionist painting. We’re looking at what’s going on in the world and using words to help people make sense of it. It’s ultimately a service to the reader — here’s what’s happening out there, why it’s important, and what it means for you.

The thing about producing content in the social media age is that if you’re not careful, the algorithm is going to push you where it wants to push you. Since I started writing about sustainability back in 2019, the platforms have pushed me further and further into a niche where most people just think of me as that sustainable fashion guy, or maybe that sustainable fashion guy with the book who used to be at Highsnob. That’s partly my own fault — I could have spent the past however many years making content about sustainability and also other things, but I didn’t do that, for whatever reason. One of the beautiful things about newsletters and books is that writers will theoretically have more bandwidth and space to go into all sorts of interesting directions. Because the audience is your boss, not a bunch of code someone in Silicon Valley made up.

In the comments on last week’s post, a reader said that they appreciate how my writing either focuses on something really big or really small. Here’s the quote:

“It’s awesome to read informed takes on where you think things are headed in existential ways and ALSO takes on specific brands/collections/products! I feel like I’m getting a micro and macro economics style of fashion content and it’s so fun.”  

Loved getting that feedback. I’d never thought of it like that, but it really sums up what I’m interested in. We’re living in the midst of so many interconnected crises, and despite it all, we’re still trying to live happy, fulfilling lives (which you should do, you deserve to be happy). And that is what really gets me going: the dynamic between what’s going on in the world, and what it means for us as human beings. 

Most people associate sustainability with oat milk and organic cotton, but it’s ultimately about questioning how the world works, and how it could be better. Fashion is, on the surface, all about cool clothes, but really it’s about who we think we are and whose ideas we value. Both those topics — sustainability and fashion — are just a small part of a much bigger picture, and that picture sucks right now. It’s not just the climate crisis that’s threatening all life on earth, it’s billionaires sucking up all our money, fascists trying to kill democracy and politicians turning a blind eye to war crimes.

The work that I really love doing always comes down to what’s going on in the world and how it relates to our own lives. That’s why I’ve written about fashion’s intersection with rampaging inequality, fucked up supply chains, miserable working conditions and wasteful economics. And it’s also why I love to look at people trying to figure out solutions, like laws that need to be passed, brands trying to reduce their emissions and making things from leftover fabrics. 

That’s what I’m here for and what this newsletter is about. Trying to make sense of life in the midst of so much crisis and turmoil. It’s also going to be the theme behind my second book, which won’t be about fashion at all. I’m still in the planning stages right now, but it’s exciting to break new ground and go into new places. Which is something I’ll be doing more of in this newsletter as well.

Thanks for being here. See you next week.