Embracing Eco-Minimalism: A New Way of Living
I come from a long line of women who made their own clothes out of necessity. My great-grandmother Maria, a WWI widow, raised three daughters on her own, sewing to make ends meet. Back then, terms like eco-minimalism and sustainability didn’t exist; survival was the goal. My mother watched in awe as her grandmother, using an old mechanical Singer, turned fabric into something magical, stitch by stitch.
My mother dreamed of becoming a tailor, a profession she never knew could be a career. At 16, she left her small rural hometown and moved to Moscow, hoping to enroll in fashion college. But her dream was shattered when the school rejected her because she wasn’t a local resident.
Despite the setbacks, my mother never gave up on her dream. Later in life, she took sewing courses to master the craft that had sustained her. Growing up in a small Moscow apartment, I watched her work late into the night, the sound of the Singer’s treadle lulling me to sleep.
One of my favorite memories is of us walking in the park, both wearing flowy floral sundresses—mine made from fabric remnants of hers. I felt like a princess, and from that moment, I knew style and beautiful clothes would always be a part of me.
Little did I know that at that early age along with my love for good clothes, I was learning the foundations of eco-minimalism as a lifestyle.
When I am not working, I like to play and recreate my favorite vintage designers!
To put myself through college, I worked at the Moscow library of foreign languages, the only place where one could see a foreign fashion magazine at that time. I don’t think I can put into words my joy and excitement as I flipped through the pages of the Vogue magazine.
In the 90s when the Soviet Union collapsed, and things were tough with people lining up to get essentials, I spent my entire month’s salary on my very first sewing machine. I had my mom’s old Burda patterns laying around, no sewing skills at the time, but a determination to make a new pair of wide-leg high-waisted trousers I saw in the magazine. That was the beginning, and I was hooked.
I grew up appreciating quality clothing, learning from the women in my family to buy fewer but better items, caring for and restyling them as fashion changed. However, for much of my adult life, I was unaware of the harmful effects of overconsumption and overproduction in the fashion industry.
I didn’t realize the environmental toll of the industry I love, or how poorly garment workers are treated. The sheer volume of waste and unrecyclable textiles in landfills has opened my eyes to the urgent need for mindful consumption and sustainable fashion.
The two books that framed my thinking at the time were:
I believe that a systemic change is essential to transform the fashion industry. We need new legislation, transparency, and accountability, along with innovation and collaboration across the supply chain. By creating new materials, rethinking garment construction, and repurposing textiles, we can drive meaningful change. I’m inspired by brands worldwide who are already committed to this path.
Having closely followed the industry’s trajectory, I see we are at a critical turning point. Just like the late 60s and early 70s, we are faced with a choice: continue down a path of unsustainable growth, or build a brighter, more responsible future. The consequences of our past choices are evident, but it’s not too late to change. However, it will take collective action. I hope you’re ready to join the movement.
Through my blogs, product recommendations, and mindful living tips, I aim to inspire you to embrace eco-minimalism as an exciting new way of life.