The New Fashion Is Being Hand-Washed in a Sink in Downtown Columbus

What a single day across Ohio taught me about the industry's next chapter — and who is writing it

The news broke early. Saks Fifth Avenue had filed for bankruptcy.

I was already on the road when I saw it — the first stop of a day that would take me across Ohio, through four schools, and into rooms holding nearly 300 students and educators. I had a talk prepared. Slides. A narrative arc about career paths in fashion, about the roles available to young people who love this industry and want to build a life inside it.

I threw it out.

I couldn't stand in front of middle schoolers and talk about fitting into a system that was, at that very moment, publicly fracturing. It would have been dishonest. I couldn't talk about fitting into a system that was, at that very moment, publicly fracturing.

What We Talked About Instead? We talked about the 2026 flip.

The moment — projected, documented, increasingly inevitable — when the resale and pre-loved market will officially outpace traditional retail.¹ When secondhand is no longer the alternative. When it is the default.

I watched the rooms change as I said it. Middle schoolers sat up straighter. Teachers who had come in with folded arms leaned forward. Something shifted in the air — the particular electricity that happens when young people realize that the story they have been told about how the world works is not the only story. That there is another one being written. That they could be the ones writing it.

This is what I mean when I say fashion is urgent. Not in the way of trends or seasons. In the way of a system under pressure, cracking at its foundations, making space — finally — for something better to grow.

Four Stops. Nearly 300 People. One Question.

We moved through Ohio that day in the way that feels particular to this work — fast, full, fueled by something that is not quite adrenaline but is adjacent to it. The energy of rooms full of people who are genuinely thinking for the first time about where their clothes come from. About who made them. About what it costs — in resources, in labor, in environmental consequence — to produce a garment that will be worn twice and discarded.²

These conversations are not comfortable. They are not supposed to be. But they are alive in a way that is rare. When you ask a 13-year-old what they think about fast fashion and they actually answer — not the answer they think you want, but the one that is forming in real time, right in front of you — something remarkable happens in a room.

You can feel a mind changing. Slowly, partially, imperfectly — but changing. And that is the only kind of change that lasts.

You can feel a mind changing. Slowly, partially, imperfectly — but changing. And that is the only kind of change that lasts.

The Sink

The day ended back at our studio in downtown Columbus.

I walked in to find one of our students at the laundry sink in the back of the space. She was bent over it carefully, gently working a stain out of a vintage fabric scrap she had salvaged from an old dress. Not rushing. Not frustrated. Fully present in the task — the way people are present when they are doing something that matters to them.

She wasn't looking for something new. She was honoring what already existed. She was asking: what does this still have to offer? What can I make of this? How do I bring my vision to life without starting from scratch?

She was, in the truest sense, turning waste into wonder.

I stood in the doorway and watched her for a moment before she noticed me. And I thought: this is what the next chapter of fashion looks like. Not a bankruptcy filing. Not a trend report. This. A young person at a sink, caring for a piece of fabric with her hands, asking better questions than the industry has been asking for decades.

This is what the next chapter of fashion looks like. A young person at a sink, caring for a piece of fabric, asking better questions than the industry has been asking for decades.

The Values That Live in the Work

Education, inclusion, sustainability, artistic freedom. These are the four values that guide everything we do. They are not written on a wall in our studio — or if they are, they are also written in the grit and the grace of the people we have the honor to serve.

They live in the educator who stayed late to help a student finish a seam. In the parent who drove an hour each way so their child could be in a space where creativity is taken seriously. In the middle schooler who asked, after our talk, if she could start a resale initiative at her school.

They live in the student at the sink. Unhurried. Intentional. Already building something the industry hasn't caught up to yet.

We don't just consume fashion. We create it for good. And if the hands I saw working that day are any indication, the industry's next chapter is in very, very safe hands.

References

1. ThredUp 2024 Resale Report: the secondhand market is projected to reach $350 billion globally by 2028, growing three times faster than the broader retail clothing sector. https://www.thredup.com/resale

2. On the environmental cost of fast fashion: Ellen MacArthur Foundation. (2017). A New Textiles Economy: Redesigning Fashion's Future. https://ellenmacarthurfoundation.org/a-new-textiles-economy

Priscila Teixeira is an award-winning community leader, passionate educator, fashion artist, and public speaker. She is the Founder & CEO of TalkingFashion Inc. and Columbus Fashion Academy, and Founder & Executive Director of The Fashion Community, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. With 40+ years in the fashion industry and a mission to transform waste into wonder, Priscila believes fashion is not a surface — it is a discipline that works from the inside out. She writes from Columbus, Ohio, where she has lived for over 25 years.