Almost every day, when I tell people what I doing, I am greeted with surprised faces and curious questions. “That’s a bit of a niche!” some will exclaim, or “Do you even have children?” others will ask, looking directly at my ovaries, as if they will suddenly start talking for me. My answers are quickly reduced to ‘yes and no’ responses – yes, it is a niche, and no, I don’t have children. But does that mean I can’t succeed or make a difference in the world of maternity fashion?
Since I was child – my Mum says I was about 2 years old when it started with me wanting to change outfits for every single occasion throughout the day, and to match all my accessories and colours obsessively – I have always loved fashion. Something about the ceremony of it all spoke to me I guess; the way you could change your shoes and become a new person or character in life; how fashion and a few bangles could completely transform my reality.
Some people might call it coincidence, others cliche, but I guess in a way, fashion was in my blood right from the start – on both sides of the family. From my Mum, it came through my great-grandmother, a some-time seamstress whom had taught my Mum to sew, who in turn gave me the same skills from the age of 8, and my first sewing machine. From my Dad, it was his both his parents – my Nan Doreen, who had her own seaside boutique or ‘frock shop’ as she calls it, in England, and my Grandpa Gordon, who later established their own fashion business working with luxury brands like Givenchy, Limoges and Innoxa.
But the problem of ethics and fashion’s impact on nature weighed heavily on my heart no matter which way I looked at it – another thing my family roots can be blamed for. While encouraging my love affair for colour, fabric and matching shoes, I was also exposed to the fragility of the world we live in from an early age. My Mum’s parents were staunch Greenpeace protesters who gave up eating meat in the 1980s because of its environmental impact, and my Mum was ‘eco-chic’ when it was still embarrassing, and taking her recycled and cloth bags to Coles every week for the grocery shop.
Further to this, both sides of my family were also committed to causes much larger than themselves, volunteering and helping others as a part of daily life. On my Mum’s side, this was linked to the church and to constant prayers, donations and giving to people less fortunate. With my paternal grandparents, this meant a long devotion to working with member organisations Rotary and Probus, and pushing the trolley of snacks, later served in the kiosk, around Perth’s mental health hospital Graylands.
So it was no surprise that after high school I ended up moving away from fashion into other more ‘serious’ studies in architecture, photography and then journalism and professional writing. But after trying out various incarnations of each of these pursuits, I kept being drawn back to my love of clothing and its transformative quality.
So why then maternity wear of all things? Well that is perhaps is the curve ball in my own single girl’s lived experience, when a chance discussion with a colleague while I was studying fashion at night school, led me down a pathway that no matter how many times I turned away from, I kept being drawn back onto. Eventually, the more I researched it, the more it seemed to make sense. I knew that the only way I could stomach being involved in my beloved, yet currently wasteful, fashion was if I was able to prove that it could be sustainable on all levels – economic, social and environmental. And who else but expectant mothers would understand how their choices today would affect the world around them, and eventually the lives of their unborn children?
Collette
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