DiscarDisco: One Man’s Trash is Another Man’s Runway-Ready Look

Twenty miles south of the Loop on the Little Calumet River sits an unassuming plot of green, rolling slopes. With the skyline in the distance and Elite Yachts Chicago around the bend, you wouldn’t notice the River Bend Prairie Landfill if it weren’t for the smell. The ammoniac odor of the piles of trash that you’ll begin to see a little deeper onto the property hits you quickly and completely, but that’s just the reality of a landfill, and it doesn’t pretend to be something that it’s not.

Imagine if it did pretend to be something else: a used plastic water bottle masquerading as a raincoat, or an old grocery bag as a brand-new pair of boots. What a silly concept — a Zara cardigan made of nothing more than the contents of your trash can.

It would be funny if it wasn’t the reality of the production of fast fashion. Clothing from stores like H&M and Forever 21 is so cheaply made that even charities refuse it, and garish “I’m Nacho Friend'' T-shirts are thrown right back into the trash. To study the lifecycle of an H&M piece would be an ameteur scientist’s dream: it forms a perfect circle from landfill to landfill.

“You’re basically wearing a Butterfinger’s wrapper on yourself, and then you take it off and put it directly back into the garbage,” says Eleanor Ray, executive director of The WasteShed, a nonprofit working to provide Chicago teachers and artists with affordable, reused arts and crafts supplies.

Combating the perpetual cycle of “landfill fashion” and promoting sustainability is the mission of The WasteShed. On February 12, The WasteShed, in partnership with the Apparel Industry Board, hosted its second annual trash fashion show, DiscarDisco. Modeled after other “Trashion Shows” where participants use only waste to create their piece, The WasteShed gave 17 Chicagoland artists a themed mystery box of mixed post-consumer materials and challenged them to make a full wearable outfit using as many materials as they could. Some participants were WasteShed regulars and some had never set foot in the store, but all were given only two weeks to create a complete look.

Liz Gomez and Eleanor Ray open the DiscarDisco livestream discussing The WasteShed and the effects of COVID-19; Image via The WasteShed on Tiltify.

Behind the DiscarDisco

Hosted by Liz Gomez, education coordinator at The WasteShed, the virtual DiscarDisco opened with dancing and introductions from the judges before moving into video expos from the designers debuting their looks. Each outfit was unique: one a ballgown modeled after the royal court of 18th-century France, another a tasseled crop top with Audre Lourde and James Baldwin on each boob shown off with “I’m Too Sexy” playing in the background. The videos also ranged in setting from a warehouse to a dance studio to houses with cats occasionally walking into frame. In one video, a designer was filmed asking her young daughter in a princess ensemble how the pockets should be oriented on her vest.

That’s what makes the DiscarDisco so special, Ray says. “The intimacy of seeing stuff shot in people's houses and with their families was really great. What you're not gonna see on a runway fashion show is: ‘oh, this is my kid bothering me while I'm trying to, like, sell this thing,’ or, ‘me asking my mom for input on the design.’”

Including the nitty-gritty reality of the clothing-making process –– interruptions from kids, production mistakes and involvement from friends and family –– in the DiscarDisco livestream aimed to repair the disconnect between fashion and the work behind it.

“I think [DiscarDisco] is creating that kind of transparency where people can actually look at the object and connect the materials and the labor that went into making it, and that gives them a different perspective on their ownership of the item,” Ray explains.

With personal responsibility for clothes comes a greater understanding and respect for workers in the textile industry, says Ambar Campos, executive director of the Apparel Industry Board, a partner of the DiscardDisco. Across the country, garment workers are grossly underpaid and overworked, and Campos says both fashion consumers and her peers in the industry are greatly unaware of the human rights abuses, blinded by the allure of a cheap price tag.

“The human element has been removed for so long that people just have no idea. You see a one-dollar T-shirt and it never crosses your mind that the person who made it was paid three cents,” she says.

Mitigating the flagrant over-capitalization of the fashion industry and humanizing the labor of creating clothing is why The WasteShed is such an important part of the Chicago community, Campos says. Regular customers of The WasteShed flocked to participate in the DiscarDisco to show their appreciation for the nonprofit and ensure its longevity, she says. With a fundraising goal of $10,000, The WasteShed has so far raised over $7,000 through participation fees and donors to support their mission and mitigate some of the losses from COVID-19.

The WasteShed

The WasteShed was hit hard by the pandemic, closing the shop for much of the year and migrating most of its inventory online. For a business so spatially rooted –– where customers come in and sift through textiles for hours or just to hang out with the staff –– Ray says COVID-19 has been uniquely challenging.

Located in Humboldt Park, The WasteShed is “basically a thrift store for art materials and school supplies,” Ray says, as well as a host of frequent art and environmental programming to engage the community in sustainability efforts. In its six years, the nonprofit has kept over 73 tons of material from landfills like River Bend Prairie, selling products at a quarter of the original cost to counter the high price of access that puts craft supplies out of reach for newer artists and local teachers.

“20 to 25% of our customers are teachers who usually pay, out of pocket, $500 to $1,000 a year for materials for their classes. So we're able to help them get really good, interesting, creative materials for cheap,” Ray explains.

Blair Goldman: Thinking Inside the Box

For DiscarDisco participant and first place awardee Blair Goldman, supporting The WasteShed was one of the principal reasons for participating in DiscarDisco. That, and a newfound passion for sustainable fashion. Before the pandemic began, Goldman worked in luxury retail for five years; she wasn’t quite pumping out styles at the speed of Forever 21, but was receiving enough clothing shipments a month that Goldman became uncomfortable with the waste they were creating.

“Packaging is always something that I noticed in big shipments. I've done plenty of jobs where you just see these huge bulk shipments, and I always think, ‘that is so much plastic and tissue paper,’” she says. “It's really jarring to be able to contextualize it.”

Fast forward about six months later, and Goldman was using the packaging her DiscarDisco materials came in as an accessory for her look. Paired with a handmade mask, gloves and purse, her corduroy-lined USPS wide-brimmed hat helped Goldman clinch first prize, with the judges on the livestream praising her innovative use of “every single bloody thing in the box including the box.”

Blair Goldman models her winning DiscarDisco outfit; Image courtesy of Blair Goldman.

It was two weeks of consistent work to create Goldman’s COVID-friendly “trash chic” look, with many hours spent in front of the TV cutting 133 canvas flowers and stitching them together with the provided maroon yarn. With so many pieces, she admits it was difficult to complete the look in time. Her secret? The Santa-esque dress, gloves, purse and boots were all made the morning of the show.

Regina Dyhouse: “Baddie in the Woods”

To stay on top of the quick turnaround, participant and sustainable fashion designer Regina Dyhouse created a Post-it note schedule on her wall to combat her desire for perfectionism. “I’m a Libra, so it takes me 30 days to make one decision,” she jokes.

When Dyhouse opened her mystery box, she was greeted by green floral fabric that, to her, screamed “cottagecore.” Because her own style is streetwear (she competitively rollerskates; what’s more streetwear than that?), Dyhouse decided to sew a dress out of a puffy peach quilt from the thrift store with added embroidered waves and a corded waistband to give it an edge.

A friend of Regina Dyhouse models her “Baddie in the Woods” look; Image courtesy of Regina Dyhouse.

Dyhouse brought her “Baddie in the Woods” vision to life with a soft pink theme accented by a utility-style cargo pocket and buttoned knee socks. Dyhouses explains that her look is not just an outfit, it’s a character –– and she’s versatile.

“She could be in Chicago going around to museums, but she could also be having, like, a little day in Wisconsin doing rural things like going apple picking or whatever, but her IG pics are gonna look great regardless,” she explains.

Versatility is a new staple in Dyhouse’s closet. During the 15 years she spent as a DJ, her hangers were filled with disposable outfits that were quickly removed and replaced lest she was ever photographed in them. After switching careers, Dyhouse realized her clothing habits weren’t economically or environmentally sustainable, and she felt uncomfortable that under different circumstances, she could have been making the clothes she was throwing away.

“I’m half-Filipino and half-white, and knowing that with a few different decisions made in other people's lives I could have ended up working in one of these sweatshops doesn't sit right with me,” she says.

Chris Williford: “Toxic Octopus”

Re-mixing old clothes is what makes creating fashion so fun, says Chris Williford, another DiscarDisco participant and fashion technology startup employee. For his outfit, Williford repurposed a roll of houndstooth fabric he bought from the WasteShed and combined it with the purple and orange stretch fabric from his mystery box to create a toxic octopus “Party Monster” aesthetic. Williford says he played with colorblocking to create a ‘90s anime character and cyber-era club hopper in one.

Chris Williford’s “Toxic Octopus” outfit; Image courtesy of Chris Williford.

Williford explains that the inspiration for creating a dance-floor ready look was nostalgia for pre-pandemic partying at Chicago clubs like Northalsted’s Berlin. “People have so much fun with clothing in Chicago nightlife, so I was like, ‘let me do something crazy because I miss going out,’” he says.

Putting it All Together

The pandemic has closed our clubs and bars, decimated our healthcare system, limited our social interactions and hurt small local shops like The WasteShed. But it has also changed how we think about waste, production and those who make our clothes. With less disposable income and time, suddenly the old sweater at the back of the closet has become less disposable as well.

That old sweater can be a new sweater, a cape, or even a pair of boots with just a little bit of TLC. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, yes, but one man’s trash may well be that same man’s runway-ready look. Take it from DiscarDisco winner Blair Goldman herself:

“Trash is so beautiful; trash is the best. I think we do not think about waste a lot, and what I really love about sustainable fashion is that if you just take the time and slow down and really think creatively about what we already have, you can really make something very beautiful.”