Nearly 2.15 million tonnes of clothes are bought in the UK every year, but their production contributes to draining the world's natural resources at an alarming rate. SARAH LEWIS meets up with stylist Lou Taylor for an ethical make-over.

Poor Lou Taylor had her work cut out for her. When the Brighton-based ethical stylist offered to make over my wardrobe in an environmentally friendly way, I neglected to tell her I hate shopping, and the idea of "fashion" makes me weep for the future of humanity, both for the staggering disregard for people and planet so often displayed by the massive fashion industry, and for the fact that people think it is OK to walk around as though they are in the 1980s.

It is surely a tragic indictment of mankind that 20 years on we still think puffball skirts are clever.

The statistics behind the fashion industry are startling. Around 25 per cent of all the insecticides and ten per cent of all pesticides in the world are used to grow cotton. These seep into the rivers, poisoning precious water supplies, and leave fields toxic and barren.

Blood poisoning in cotton workers is not uncommon and the World Health Organisation says that 20,000 people die every year from pesticide poisoning within the cotton industry.

In the UK, around 95 per cent of everything we wear is imported and the fashion industry was worth £44.45 billion.

In 2005, Philip Green, owner of the Arcadia clothing group, which includes shops such as Topshop and BHS, claimed a £1.2 billion dividend.

The same year, ethical clothing campaign group Labour Behind The Label found the average wage for garment workers in Cambodia providing stock for Green's stores was £25 a month, far below a living wage.

While Kate Moss gets paid £3 million to put her name to a range of clothing, Mauritian factory workers supplying the brand would have to work for 4,000 years to earn that much.

Ethical fashion network the Ethical Fashion Forum says despite the huge profits made by fashion labels "the garment industry remains one of the world's most exploitative sectors, both towards people and to the environment".

Back in Brighton and with the cotton fields out of sight, it is easy to be swayed by a bargain. Indeed, my last pair of jeans were a guilty purchase from the Dorothy Perkins sales, a fact which Lou is horrified by.

Not only is DP a style nono, apparently, but, according to the Sustainable Cotton Project, each pair of nonorganic jeans need two-thirds of a pound of pesticides and fertilizers just to grow the cotton.

Lou says: "Apparently 80 per cent of women only wear 20 per cent of their clothes.

And a lesson I've learnt is that sometimes the most ethical thing you can do is not to buy anything at all."

So before we even make it to the shops, she ploughs through my clothes, sending charity-shop-wards those things that would be better loved elsewhere and a selection of grey-coloured items.

"You have a lot of grey clothes," says Lou.

"That way I can wear everything with everything and don't have to worry about clashing," I say, smugly thinking how terribly practical and eco I am. Lou scowls and throws another grey top in the charity pile.

She then gets me to try on every top with every bottom.

In retrospect is seems like an obvious thing to do, and I come out the end of it with a huge list of new outfits, plus a small list of things I need: to get my boots resoled, a pair of smart work shoes, smart trousers and some tops that aren't grey.

When we head out to the shops, Lou makes sure we meet by the cobblers so I can get my shoes resoled, in case I try to sneak off and buy new ones.

She has already been around the shops and is armed with a list of what I need and what will suit me.

In Get Cutie in Kensington Gardens, she forces me into a brightly patterned 1950s-style dress, handmade in Brighton.

I think I am going to hyperventilate at the wanton girliness of it all but actually, I am forced to admit I look pretty good (my boobs - they are so big! My waist - it is so small!).

At £69.50 though, despite ticking the "locally sourced"

box, we decide it is not something I would wear often enough to warrant buying it.

It dawns on me, however, that Lou probably has an ulterior motive. My sleeping inner-girl appears to have heard an alarm clock and by the time we get to Traid on Duke Street I barely even flinch as she throws big skirts and high heels into the changing room.

Traid stands for Textile Recycling for Aid. With 900,000 million items of clothing thrown into landfill every year in the UK, they aim to divert some of this to new and loving homes. They use their profits to raise funds for overseas aid and work to educate the public on the environment and world poverty issues.

We walk away with an always useful little black dress (£15.99) and the much needed smart work trousers (£8.50).

"Designer" second-hand stores such as Traid go a long way to negating the economic arguments against ethical clothing. Although even with new clothes, and fair-trade, organic cotton jeans going for upwards of £50, it is worth remembering the idea is not to rush out and buy as many clothes as possible.

Part of the process of greening your wardrobe is buying long-lasting, well coordinating clothes, which can actually end up cheaper than regularly having to replace lesser quality fast-fashion items.

Much to my surprise we then head for Churchill Square. Lou says: "Anything from Arcadia group is going to have a terrible legacy but there are a lot of high-street chains that are really cleaning up their act.

Marks and Spencer has Plan A, and Next is doing very well according to Labour Behind The Label and, surprisingly, New Look has been making big improvements."

We try on everything in Next and bicker about frilly sleeves, which I think with my broad shoulders make me look like Joan Collins circa 1986, but Lou insists looks fantastic.

In M&S we find a great, smart work top but discover an important fashion rule: wearing one item from Marks can look good, wearing two makes you look like your mother.

Then on to shoes, and oh how very complicated they are when it comes to shopping ethically.

Shoes are inherently very un-environmentally friendly to make, and even Vegetarian Shoes in Gardner Street struggle with the fact their shoes are made from a fossil fuel. Brighton-based ethical shoe company Beyond Skin do great work, but with shoes tipping £130 a pair, it is hard going for the average shopper.

We happen upon a pair for a much more reasonable £50 in Aldo, whose ethical policy comes across as standard corporate social responsibility bumf, with founder Aldo Bensadoun quoted as being "very well known for his philanthropy".

He places a premium on being "a good corporate citizen by working to enrich the communities in which we live and work.

It's not uncommon for Aldo or its employees to participate in fundraisers or to volunteer their time for community causes".

Blah blah blah.

The shoes are so beautiful it pains both Lou and I to walk away, but we do, all the while wondering if we can justify buying them on the basis that Aldo make huge contributions to Aids and cancer charities.

It takes me three days to cave in and head down to Churchill Square to buy the shoes. One minimally ethical shopping decision out of an entirely revamped wardrobe. Is that really so bad?

Find out more about Lou Taylor's ethical styling at www.ethicalstylist.co.uk

11:10am Monday 24th March 2008

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