Keep your clothes healthy (and tasty)

A day in the life of an almost-ethical consumer: food-obsessive Clara Warden says we should look at clothes shops like restaurant menus.

''Look at the labels on your clothes, like you might examine the fat content on crisps.'' ''An olive, basil, melted mozzarella and tomato ciabatta is, to me, like a vintage pair of cowboy boots paired with my housemate's 60s black dress.'' ''Be as wary of chain stores as you would be of a turkey-ham shaped like a bear's face - cheap, mass-produced ingredients are suspicious.''

I waitress in a very good bistro in Newcastle. Local farms - the source of the food - are listed on the menu. Customers know exactly where their meat and vegetables have come from; farm telephone numbers are printed so an eater can order produce directly by chatting to the farmer who reared the pig they ate last night.

Before Christmas the owners asked me if I could smarten up my eccentric dress. I resolved to go sales shopping, whilst practising a similar code of ethics and elegance as the bistro. But clothes shops do not offer source lists; how can we know if our clothes have been happily made by a fairly paid, well-treated seamstress in a warm, well-lit environment or intensively produced by an underpaid, mistreated worker in a dark, cold sweatshop?

I started browsing the charity shops. These are the equivalents of cheap veggie cafes - selling simple, wholesome wares, often surprising in their stock and always run by lovely, mad staff and volunteers. I bought a bargain black top with a spotted neckline that is smart enough for the restaurant, helps slow down the rate of consumerism and makes me look good. A bit like eating a butterbean burger.

Some clothes stores are members of the Clean Clothes Campaign (CCC). Look up your favourite shops on the internet and read about their ethical standards on sites like www.wornagain.org or www.ethicalconsumer.org. Look at the labels on your clothes, like you might examine the fat content on crisps or search for a Soil Association Award on chicken; it is vitally important to know exactly what you wear on your body as well as what you receive into your body.

Be as wary of chain stores as you would be of a turkey-ham shaped like a bear's face - cheap, mass-produced ingredients are suspicious. Try an independent boutique - the cosy bistro of the fashion world and the livelihood of young fashion designers. Treat yourself to Italian vogue or a hip one-off and make it last over a number of seasons.

And vintage stores - appearing unexpectedly next to derelict garages like exciting sandwich shops - offer a range of unusual, creative clothes that encourage a unique, recycled take on high street fashion. Although a sandwich does not recycle bread, a good one takes inspiration from tradition and then twists it - an olive, basil, melted mozzarella and tomato ciabatta is, to me, like a vintage pair of cowboy boots paired with my housemate's 60s black dress, accessorised by charity shop jewellery and covered with a winter coat designed in Leeds by a fashion graduate.

I often give in to temptation, in both cheap clothes and junk food, by buying bacon in plastic packs and shoes made in Thailand. If we look at clothes shops as if they were restaurant menus, then we can consider carefully how to keep our clothes clean and our choices fair. Be honest with yourself - keep your clothes healthy.