From Generation to Generation: How This Jewish Pillar Has Influenced My Sustainable Closet

 

Sabs wearing a sweater passed down from her grandmother

 

This article was contributed by a member of our beloved Sustainable Baddie community. Sustainable Baddie exists in part to share perspectives outside of our own and to present a rich array of diverse voices. The opinions presented are those of the guest contributor and do not necessarily reflect or represent Sustainable Baddie’s voice, tone, and point of view. 

There’s a heritage concept in Judaism called “l’dor vador,” which means “from generation to generation.” Pulled directly from Judaic scripture, it refers to the sharing of culture, knowledge, and stories from elders passed down to children and grandchildren so that these traditions can continue to live on in perpetuity. 

From a survival perspective, it has allowed the Jewish culture to thrive for over 3000 years, amongst pogroms, genocides, second-class citizenship, antisemitic laws, and so much more. From a personal perspective, l’dor vador means something more. When I think about the things my grandparents, great aunts and uncles, and other elders have handed down to me, one of the first things that comes to mind is my wardrobe.

 

Sabs’ grandparents: Marcel + GiGi

 

My maternal grandparents are Parisian; my grandmother worked at various clothing shops throughout her adulthood, and my grandfather was a tailor, creating leather pieces for brands like Ted Lapidus and Agnès B. My grandmother and grandfather were young (a few months old and 6 years old respectively) when World War II began, which meant their earliest years were marred by the impact of antisemitism and white supremacy—trauma that remains part of their psyche to this day.

One of the ways this has manifested for my grandmother is through the accumulation of clothing. In the fashion capital of the world, a city that was once entirely unsafe for her to exist in, she took her power back by creating an armored fortress of colorful garments.


One of my earliest childhood memories from visiting my grandparents’ two-story house on the outskirts of Paris was the closets bursting with clothing. Rifling through them was always an adventure; from delicately beaded wool sweaters to pleated midi skirts in every color you can think of, to boxes of espadrilles (both heeled and flat), there was always something new for me to discover.

At 16 years old, when I first started looking through her things, I was mostly just excited about the hand-me-downs. But over the years, a new intention emerged: the opportunity to derive beauty and meaning from these pieces of clothing that once sat idle in my grandparent’s home. 

 
 


I quickly gained a new appreciation for all the items she passed down to me, and my passion for bringing new life to these garments shone through. It sparked a new level of confidence, knowing that a part of my grandmother and her legacy of strength, independence, and courage were a physical part of my daily routine. Rather than throwing on one of her Angora sweaters or Galeries Lafeyettes sundresses as an afterthought, I began centering my outfits around her pieces. One of my favorites is an oversized graphic sweater from the 80s, featuring the text “Vive La Marine” and young French children’s faces designed on the front. Pairing it with a simple black skirt and tights in the winter has become one of my go-to outfits, and allows the sweater to shine at the center of it all.

Over the years, the more I mentioned my love and appreciation for my grandmother’s garments, the more other family members kindly offered to hand me down their pieces. My mother generously passed on a number of vintage silk scarves and wool sweaters that she carefully held onto since first moving to the US. My great aunts offered shoes and vintage cardigans kept in near pristine condition. My paternal grandmother graciously gave me pearl and gold necklaces that I wear daily (if not, weekly). 

 
 


I could go on and on, but over the years, the value in these pieces became less about how much they cost or how they looked; it became about bringing new beauty and value to what these garments represented, creating my own memories, and finding opportunities to share colorful snippets about my family’s lives.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love wearing my family’s hand-me-downs. And were it not for rummaging through my grandmother’s closet, I doubt that I would have ever gained a special appreciation for sustainable fashion. I hope that by telling the stories of my vintage garments, I can enable my family’s legacies to flourish, combat hate through empathy, and give others a chance to “take a walk in my grandmother’s shoes.”

 
 

Bio: Sabs Katz (she/her) is a Brooklyn-based advocate of conscious and holistic living, and the creator behind Sustainable Sabs: a platform that covers ethical fashion, plant-based eating, the low waste lifestyle, conscious consumerism, and personal wellness. She is also a co-founder of Intersectional Environmentalist and a contributing writer to Leah Thomas’ book, The Intersectional Environmentalist: How to Dismantle Systems of Oppression to Protect People + Planet.