I used to run a cruelty-free fashion blog (shopvetted.com by Jen Utley), where we posted vegan fashion finds and explained why shopping cruelty-free mattered. Back then, I believed every single thing I wrote. Now… I realize the truth is more complicated.

The reasons felt obvious. First, the cruelty: once you’ve seen what goes on in the fur, leather, silk, or down industries – live-plucking, factory farming, skinning – it’s impossible to unsee. Pair that with the environmental impact of animal agriculture, which eats up land, water, and resources, and it seemed clear that vegan alternatives had to be the future.
For many people, cruelty-free comes down to authenticity. If you are vegan or vegetarian, it only makes sense to extend that philosophy from the pantry to the closet. Why draw the line at dinner when you could live your values head to toe?
Then there is the greenwashing problem. Brands love to throw around words like “eco,” “ethical,” or “vegan-friendly” as if they’re magic spells, when half the time the products are just polyester plastic dressed up with a shiny marketing campaign.
I was excited by innovation. Every new plant-based leather or lab-grown textile felt like proof that we were inching toward a kinder, more sustainable fashion industry. And I loved how choosing cruelty-free makes you question the cultural script: why do we call cowhide “luxury,” while the idea of wearing puppy skin makes us recoil? It cracked open this weird hypocrisy that I wanted to spotlight.
I still believe in all those reasons. But over time, I’ve realized the truth is more complicated, there are situations where animal products can (and maybe, should?) still have a place.
My main reason for reconsidering animal skin is durability. Back when I was running shopvetted.com in the early COVID days, I bought a handful of vegan pieces; an Abercrombie faux leather jacket, faux silk tops, vegan leather Doc Martens.
The problem? Five years later, most of them are starting to fall apart.
That vegan coat lives in the closet next to my grandfather’s real leather hunting jacket that is older than I am, and the difference is stark. One is disintegrating after a few seasons and the other has survived decades. The contrast is the problem.
My leather Docs from high school have held up better than the younger pleather ones.
And it’s not just about durability – “faux silk” is really just a pretty term for polyester plastic, which won’t last in your closet but will last forever in a landfill. Cruelty-free? Maybe. Eco-friendly? Definitely not. Also, who likes polyester on their body? Ew.
If the goal is “sustainability”, then pieces that fall apart in a few years don’t cut it. Durability is part of being eco-friendly. Longevity matters.
This isn’t an argument for loading up on leather. It’s a call to get more thoughtful about what lasts, what aligns with your values, and what you’ll actually wear for years to come.
Start with the labels. Look for pieces made of real, lasting materials – and when possible, buy them secondhand. I used to cycle through cheap acrylic sweaters every winter; now I have a couple of secondhand cashmere ones I picked up a few seasons ago. I dry-clean them once a season (yes, once a season) and they’ve lasted for years – and they’re far cozier anyway.
When I’m hunting, I search eBay, Depop, Poshmark, ThredUp, The RealReal, and Mercari for things I love, typing in keywords like “100% silk” or “100% cashmere.” That way, I’m not creating new demand for leather, silk, or polyester (barf) in the market – I’m simply giving existing pieces a longer life. My favorite leather jacket? I found it for 15 euros in a basement thrift store in Paris. No idea how old she is, but I’ll never need another leather jacket again.
And, sure, you may want to buy the exact piece you’re searching for at a shop and not secondhand. That’s totally fine – but if you do, there are ways to make sure you’re investing in something that’s actually worth it.
If you do decide to buy new cashmere, aim for brands that do more than just slap “100% cashmere” on a tag. Look for ones that offer traceable, recycled, or certified cashmere, and that demonstrate respect for land, animals, and herders. Brands like Naadam, REPEAT Cashmere, Kujten, Johnstons of Elgin, Reformation, and Quince stand out as relatively more responsible picks – but always dig into the specifics. Even “ethical” cashmere isn’t perfect, so choose thoughtfully and care for your pieces so they last for years.
If you’re going to buy leather, the most sustainable choice is always secondhand. Thrift stores, vintage shops, and resale sites are overflowing with leather goods that have already proven their durability -and giving them a new life keeps them out of landfills.
But if you are buying new, look for vegetable-tanned or chrome-free leather (better for the environment), brands that are transparent about their tanning processes, and pieces you know you’ll wear for decades. Leather production is resource-intensive, but a well-made jacket, belt, or pair of boots that lasts a lifetime is still more sustainable than cycling through “vegan leather” replacements every few years.
Silk is one of the trickier “natural luxury” fabrics. Traditional silk is made by boiling silkworms alive in their cocoons to preserve the long, unbroken fiber – something many vegans object to. Alternatives exist, like “peace silk” (also called Ahimsa silk), which allows the moths to emerge before harvesting the cocoons. The trade-off is that the fibers are shorter, so the fabric can feel less smooth and is often more expensive which sucks for something that feels worse.
If you’re looking to buy silk, the most sustainable option is, again, secondhand. Vintage and resale platforms are full of 100% silk blouses, slips, scarves, and dresses that last for decades when cared for properly. Silk also takes acid dye really well, so I have been buying things in lighter colors to dye them my favorite shade of firetruck red or black. This also helps cover up stains or damage that may come with a second hand piece.
If you buy new, look for brands that are transparent about their sourcing, or explore innovative alternatives like orange fiber silk, spider silk lab textiles, or cupro (a cotton linter byproduct that drapes like silk).
Like with cashmere and leather, longevity is key – real silk can outlast synthetics by years, so buy pieces you’ll keep forever.
Fur is the most straightforward of all these materials: there really isn’t a “better” way to buy it new. The fur industry is notorious for cruelty – animals raised in cramped cages or trapped in the wild, killed for their pelts, and marketed as luxury. Even if a brand claims its fur is “ethically sourced,” the reality is hard to justify.
If you love the look, the sustainable option is vintage or secondhand. There’s already so much fur in circulation that giving an old coat or trim a second life doesn’t create new demand. Some people also choose high-quality faux fur – but be mindful, it’s often made from plastic fibers that shed microplastics into waterways.
The bottom line? If you want fur in your wardrobe, the least harmful path is to shop vintage, repair what’s already out there, and resist fueling new production.
I always found that while traveling, I loved my “closet” more when it was a few favorite pieces in a carry-on than all the random bs clutter in my closet.
So for the past few years I have really been eliminating bad buys from my closet and changing the way I shop entirely.
I pretty much shop exclusively second hand, either online or in thrift / vintage shops. If I do order something online its from a trusted brand I know and love (or Skims, guilty). I have learned to use my sewing machine, which is opening up a world of possibilities. And it’s just fun. I love having unique pieces I have collected from second hand shops around the world (my global Google Maps list of consignment shops around the world can be found here, you’re welcome) or that I have tailor made myself.
I have also just learned myself better. What looks good and fits well and is comfortable. I know what I like in terms of colors, patterns, prints, fits, silhouettes, hems, necklines, fabrics.
Which lends to me not falling for trends that don’t fit my body type or style profile.
While everyone is looking on Depop for some trendy skirt, I know I don’t look good in a denim mini skirt and I never will. So, instead, I can scour the internet for things I would love to add to my capsule closet like vintage VS slip dresses, silk skirts, silk pants, cashmere sweaters in a good fit that I can dye black. You get the idea.
This year I broke out the ole sewing machine and actually learned how to thread it. I can’t say I’m an expert seamstress by any means, but I am a ambitious rookie ready for a challenge. Or a seam ripper, lol.
I recommend starting with easier to edit fabrics like cotton or linen. They lay flat and don’t slip around, making them much easier to sew. I actually made my own black linen dress to wear in Saudi Arabia this year. I picked a high quality linen fabric and made something I love that I couldn’t even find in the states.
I have been taking in things that were too big. I have been editing hem lines. I have dyed items different colors. I have completely deconstructed pieces and recreated entirely different items. I’ve really been working my way up to sewing silk. I just tried sewing silk and it was surprisingly easier than I expected. Silk is harder to sew due to its thin, slippery nature. But if you invest in learning how to sew silk it’s great. Or just take it to a tailor.
I prepared it perfectly with clips and set the sewing machine up correctly (chatgpt is essential for this) and voilá. Custom made, cheetah print kimono, with ostrich feather trim by yours truly.
No, ostrich feather trim is not cruelty free, but I had ordered it a while ago and would rather put it to use on a garment than let the feathers the creature grew sit in a craft drawer out of guilt.
And it’s a great conversation starter for discussing making your own clothing and discussing the ethics of fur, feathers, leather, and silk.
At the end of the day, shopping “cruelty-free” or “sustainable” isn’t a one-size-fits-all formula. It’s about slowing down, questioning the labels, and making choices that actually last – in your closet and for the planet. Sometimes that means secondhand silk or cashmere, sometimes it means investing in a leather jacket you’ll wear for decades, and sometimes it means breaking out the sewing machine and making it yourself.
I don’t believe in shopping with guilt anymore – I believe in shopping with intention. Buy fewer, better things. Take care of them. Learn what you really like and skip the trends that aren’t made for you. The truth is, the most sustainable closet isn’t about how much leather you avoid or how much faux you collect – it’s the one built with pieces you’ll actually wear for a lifetime.