Starting with Good Intentions My last proper clothing haul was back in August, when I attended a wedding. Even then, I didn’t really shop, I made something instead. That moment felt important. How can I guide people on a sustainability journey if I’m not even able to stick to it myself? Since then, I’ve mostly survived by recycling what I already own. At times, that’s been fine. At other times, honestly, it’s been painful. I’ve wanted to try new things, to refresh, to feel different. Actually, scratch that, I…

I’ve just completed a vision board for 2026. One that isn’t organised around goals, timelines, or resolutions. There are no tick boxes or milestones, no 5 year plan waiting to be met. Instead, it holds images of travel, learning, cosmology, culture (including my own). It feels less like a map and more like an orientation. A way of noticing what I’m being drawn towards, rather than what I’m expected to chase. Using the Vision Board to Suit You Vision boards are often misunderstood as unrealistic or idealistic, but I’ve come to see them as something far quieter and more intentional.

Late Post. Made by MOI. There’s a particular kind of panic that hits when a wedding invite arrives. For years, that invitation became permission, no! An excuse to buy something new. Something that would announce: I’ve arrived, transformed, evolved.And then, after the night ended and the photos were posted, that outfit would join the quiet graveyard of “special occasion” garments. Waiting for a second life that rarely came. “Most wardrobes are archives of forgotten selves.” Wednesday 1. The Full Wardrobe Paradox When I look at my closet now, I see more than fabric and thread.

Feature Image: Vanley Burke When I started my MA in Fashion Futures at London College of Fashion, I felt the pull of my Caribbean roots, an urge to see how art, identity, migration, and history intersect in work made by UK-Caribbean diaspora creatives. In that search I discovered Transforming the Crown: African, Asian & Caribbean Artists in Britain 1966–1996, a book (and exhibition catalogue) that became a vital map. It shows over fifty artists who, between 1966 and 1996, created work in Britain that responds to the intertwined legacies of colonialism, diasporic migration, gender, race, and belonging.

I’ve always felt a strange kind of intimacy with nature, a pull that seems both personal and ancient. Willow trees especially, they’ve always felt like kin to me, the way their branches bend, soft and forgiving, yet strong enough to endure storms. When my nan passed away, that connection deepened. Her garden was filled with trees, planted by my aunt, grown into silent witnesses of decades of family life. I don’t yet know the names of all those trees, but I want to. Learning their names feels like learning the family history we never wrote down.

What if the Caribbean weren’t just a chain of islands but a constellation of spirits and cosmology, alive with ancestral murmurs and elemental memory? In Oonya Kempadoo’s 2024 speculative novel Naniki, the sea isn’t the backdrop. It’s bloodline. The sky isn’t scenery. It’s breath. The story opens not with a hero's call, but with a pulse, with a deep, watery rhythm (literally) that echoes the collective memory of the Caribbean diaspora. It’s a tale where the future isn’t a distant place but a layered present, shaped by myth, colonial wreckage, ecological trauma, and the enduring whispers of the First People.

There is a strange and exquisite tension in Caribbean literature, a push and pull between what was imposed and what remains uncolonized. Between survival and reimagination. In this space, speculative fiction does not merely speculate; it resurrects, rewrites, and reclaims. And at the heart of this narrative alchemy stands Karen Lord. I first encountered Lord while tracing the ghost lines of Caribbean futurism, looking for artists and writers who weren’t just inserting the Caribbean into the future, but reconstructing the idea of time itself. Her name surfaced, not with fireworks, but with a certain gravity.

The Rhythm of Healing: A Review of "Medicine Dance" by Marsha Scarbrough Picture this: You're lounging on a sun-drenched beach, sand between your toes, and in your hands, a book that's about to take you on a wild ride through ancient rituals and personal transformation. That's "Medicine Dance" by Marsha Scarbrough for you! the perfect holiday read that'll have you hooked from page one. Marsha Scarbrough isn't your typical author. With a background in the glitz and glamour of film and TV production, she's used to the fast-paced world of entertainment.

Acid Running Score 4/5 from Wednesday’s World. "Running Towards Benightment". Price Range: £29 to £95 Acid Running emerges as a vibrant thread, weaving environmental consciousness into the very fabric of athletic wear. This brand, born from the fusion of performance and planet-mindfulness, invites us to reimagine our relationship with running gear as ambassadors of ecological resilience. Imagine, if you will, a running shoe that treads lightly not only on pavement but on our planet's delicate ecosystems. Acid Running paints this vision into reality, crafting a narrative where every stride becomes a step towards a more sustainable future.

As a writer for Wednesday's World, I've always been drawn to the stories our clothes tell. There's something magical about a well-worn pair of sneakers, especially Converse. I have this personal rule: the more worn down they look, the better fashion statement they make! It's like they carry a visual diary of adventures and experiences. This fascination with the narrative of clothing reminded me of a book I recently devoured - "The Philosophy of Clothes" by Shahidha Bari. Let's lace up and dive into the world of these iconic sneakers and the deeper meaning behind our wardrobe choices.

The fashion industry today functions less as a creative economy and more as a ritualistic sacrifice, to speed, trend and waste. What was once a tool of personal expression has morphed into a system of identity inflation and social performance, powered by brands and willingly co-authored by us, the consumers. In the realm of sustainable fashion, we find ourselves at a critical juncture where overconsumption in fashion demands rigorous examination. “Consumers don’t shop clothing, they shop dopamine.” We don’t wear fashion anymore. We consume it, compulsively. This exploration delves into the complex relationship between fashion consumption and environmental impact.

Cotton On Score 3/5 from Wednesday’s World. The are called Cotton On, but how much is actually Cotton? Price Range: Affordable The Sustainability Spotlight Not all Cotton, however they're committed to transitioning more of their fibres to reduced-impact alternatives such as recycled and organic materials. By 2028, they aim for 100% of their plastics, polyester, and synthetic materials to be made from certified recycled alternatives. It's a commendable goal, but the journey is far from complete. Production practices at Cotton On reveal a brand grappling with the complexities of sustainable manufacturing.