Louisa Pearson: ‘You drink a bit too much and end up going home with a friend’s old jumper’

THE things I do for this column. Having uncovered the statistic that the average British person has 100 items of clothing, I sprinted to the bedroom to count each and every garment I own.

The intention was to prove that I have far fewer garments than the national average and if everyone else had far fewer too, what a better world we would be living in.

Having called in the UN to do a recount, I am sorry to announce that I actually possess 146 items of clothing. This does not include pants, bras, socks, hats, scarves, gloves or the balaclava my mum knitted for me. If I included those, the total would hurtle way past 200. What a way to start. How can I preach about reducing consumption when my own wardrobe is a temple of excess?

My only consolation is that I’m not alone – there are an estimated 1.7 billion items (30 per cent of the nation’s clothing stash) languishing unworn. This eye-opening figure is one of many fascinating facts contained in the Valuing Our Clothes report, recently published by recycling support group Wrap (www.wrap.org.uk).

Why should we be bothered about unworn clothes? I am bothered because I appear to have wasted vast sums of money and resources on an Imelda Marcos-style stash of redundant clothing. In some ways it would be better if it was all designer shoes – I could pass that off as an obsession. But to waste your money on drab fleeces and long-sleeved T-shirts is truly tragic.

Back to the report. Last year UK consumers spent £44 billion on new clothing. Why are we buying new when we still have old? It’s called fashion, dahlink. Which is all well and good but if we are to reduce waste and make better use of resources, those unworn clothes at least ought to be earning their keep on someone else’s back.

According to Wrap, four out of every five adults owns at least one item of clothing they have not worn in the last year. The main reason given is “no longer suitable”, which covers a multitude of sins. But apparently nearly a third of the population would bring more unused clothing back into use if they had “the necessary skills or time to repair or alter clothes”. If only Jamie Oliver would launch a campaign to get the nation sewing.

When the realisation sinks in that clothes are never going to be worn again, a decision must be made. Rather than ignore, the most resource-efficient option is to re-use. There must be someone somewhere who would look good in your mustard cords. Next best is recycling, which is a less energy-intensive business than creating fibres from scratch. Then we get to the absolute no-no, something 48 per cent of people owned up to – putting clothes in the bin. I admit I’ve done this with holey socks; next time I will darn or recycle, I promise.

How you ensure the clothes are re-used is up to you – make some cash on Ebay or at a car boot sale, donate to the local charity shop, put them in a textile bin, ‘shwop’ at Marks & Spencer or go to a swishing party (www.swishing.com). All the rage with hip young things, swishing is a swap shop where you drink a bit too much and end up going home with a friend’s old jumper. Which is better than going home with a friend’s old man.

None of these options are really a cure for wayward shoppers, so I’m setting a target of owning 50 items of clothing and never ever going over that total again. Meanwhile, I just need to decide which 96 items are going to be swished, donated or shwopped. This may take some time.