The cult boutique “Granny Takes A Trip” from the 1960s is getting a new edition

Buy less! Buy better! Repair! Rent! Regret. Fashion screams out all sorts of contradictions in response to the world's ever-changing problems. The rejuvenating principles of a circular economy have been much debated, but the challenge for fashion – which is driven by fickle, rapid mood changes – is to understand how clothes made today can be repurposed for the future.

Is the idea of ​​a sustainable fashion brand a contradiction in terms? Marlot te Kiefte, CEO of relaunched 1960s fashion boutique Granny Takes A Trip, comments: “Everyone says they care about sustainability, but not everyone is ready to take the next step and say, ‘Okay. Fine. “I’m going to change the way I work.”

What goes around comes around: Granny Takes A Trip returns

However, she is. In summer 2022, te Kiefte – who has worked with Wales Bonner, Haider Ackermann and Vetements – was asked to update the cult psychedelic boutique's legacy. “The first thing I thought was: Yes, great relaunch, but does the world need another fashion brand?” She wondered what would happen if there was no more new material – regulations were changing and the industry was cavalier resorted to organic cotton as a response to the climate crisis. “I started my career in product development and merchandising, so I know the process of making a garment.” I know it starts with a vision, a more creative idea, but more and more you think, “Oh shit, we have to do something with sustainability.” do!” Can we just replace this button with an organic one? “Everyone is stuck in this linear approach.” Te Kiefte set out to redesign the process.

Until now, the usual response to climate change and overconsumption has been to use more recycled polyester or set up expensive clothing rental platforms. However, once polyester is made into fabric, its lifespan is shortened even further. And the focus of the burgeoning rental market is on a small demographic of women who might want to rent an embroidered dress for a wedding.

Granny 2.0 has therefore been launched on three circular loops. First, the label offers garments made from existing vintage and deadstock fabrics as well as recycled monofibers. Unique, handcrafted pieces are key. A second mainstay is a line of limited-edition clothing items made from old upholstery fabrics, or stacks of long-forgotten music industry merch available to rent. A bomber jacket and contrasting pants set is made from patterned chenille originally intended for sofas. Hybrid tops are made from slashed old-stock band tees covered in vintage lace. The third is the commercial side, which te Kiefte describes as “clothing that you can wear close to your body, something that you will probably have for five to ten years and then you can give it back to us.” Grandma is divided into things you want to own forever and things you want to own for a while. “It’s about using and having access to a shared archive,” she says.

The original Granny, founded by Nigel Waymouth, Sheila Cohen and John Pearse, opened on London's Kings Road in 1966, the same year the city was hailed as swinging Time Magazine. Today there is a sense of collectivism that reflects the youth movement of that time. People ask questions about greenwashing; there are political and social unrest; the feeling of getting back on the road.

“Nobody can do it alone.” “Everyone has to design a piece of the puzzle…” says te Kiefte. “There is room for idealism, but with pragmatism.” Granny was founded by three people with very different disciplines: a graphic designer, a vintage collector and a Savile Row tailor. A group of people with different brain structures, each asking questions. I think that’s the right thing to do at the moment.”