What is a socially conscious fashionista to do? I want to be a good steward. I recycle my paper and plastic. I stopped buying bottled water. I’d like to reduce my carbon footprint, make informed decisions and leave the planet in decent shape for my children and future grandchildren. But it’s getting so complicated.

Last week when I went out for coffee the barista asked me, “Paper or ceramic?” Should I have picked paper, thereby contributing to waste? Or should I have taken the ceramic mug, which would require water and chemicals to clean? I went with paper in the hope it had been up-cycled and would later be down-cycled. (Yes there is a difference.)

 But when it comes to fashion, the choices get harder. I want to do the right thing. And I want to look good. And so far, from what I can see, the two are mutually exclusive.

It was so much easier when all we knew was fur was bad. We knew why we shouldn’t wear it: baby seals were clubbed and minks were tortured all in the name of style. Activist would throw blood on us. It all made sense.

But recently, getting dressed has become a lot more complicated. Take my sister, who works with the homeless. She needs a new winter coat to keep her warm during the harsh New England winter while she commutes to and from work via public transportation. She has a strong sense of style so finding a new coat shouldn’t be hard. Oh, but it is. It’s very hard.  Fur collars are in style again and my sister swore off fur at least ten years ago.

“It would be easier if I had no conscience,” she tells me after week one of shopping. Still, she is confident she can find a coat that suits her style and her soul.

Week two she calls me and tells me she bought a coat—with a fur collar. But she doesn’t want to keep it – it still has the tags attached. It’s just that she’s cold and she can’t seem to find a coat she likes sans collar. Since fur is making a come-back this season, she thought maybe, just maybe, the industry had developed a new, humane way of skinning an animal. So she went to the PETA website to back up her theory. What she learned was shocking. And it had nothing to do with fur. As far as she could tell, nothing has changed in that department.

But she did discover that wool is evil. Wool! Everything from scratchy Shetland to luxurious cashmere is discouraged by PETA. Apparently, baby lambs are mutilated without any anesthesia in order to prevent certain afflictions that affect the quality of the wool. I can’t look at my Loro Piana sweaters and Max Mara coat without feeling sick.

And forget about buying a leather coat. PETA discourages that too. Instead they are promoting vegan alternatives. But these so called vegan choices are often made from PVC and other plastics derived from petrochemicals. There are activist groups working hard to ban PVC from toys and consumer goods packaging. So why is it okay for clothing? I am at a loss. Do I buy a Dooney & Burke suede hobo or a Matt & Nat vegan tote? Is a canvas sack really my only option?

My sister’s in the same place. “I can’t not buy a coat.” She says. “But if wool is no better than fur, what difference does it make if I get the wool-poly blend or the cashmere with the fur collar?” She’s got a point there. I don’t know which the more responsible choice is but I definitely know which one is ugly and which one is beautiful.

I start to think that maybe the only way to be a responsible shopper is to get a degree in chemistry and quit my full-time job so I can research fibers. But then I discover PETA’s Shopping Guide To Compassionate Clothing at www.peta.org. The merchants are broken down by category including:

Athletic Shoes, Cleats, Guitar Straps, Hiking/Work Boots, Ice/Hockey Skates, Motorcycle Apparel, Saddles, Skateboarding Shoes, Snowboarding Boots, Tool Belts, Wallets, Weight-Lifting Gloves and Western-Style Boots. 

How helpful if you’re a Dixie Chick, a cowgirl or a member of Hell’s Angels. But I’m none of those things.  I’m a suburbanite working mother with a desk job. I would be better served if the list was broken up into:

Business Suits, Casual Friday Clothes, Pointy-Toed Boots, Ballet Flats, Play Date Attire, and The-Occasional-Date-With-Husband Outfits.

Week three my sister calls me. She now has five coats in her apartment all with the tags still attached. She can’t decide which one to keep. Fur, wool, microfiber, princess darts, three quarter sleeves – it’s all so confusing.

“You own a coat with a fur collar,” she says. “Don’t you feel guilty?”

“No,” I tell her. “I bought the coat at Salvation Army. It’s vintage from the 1920s. The animal had already been dead for years before I bought it.”

And suddenly, I know exactly what a socially conscious fashionista is supposed to do --exactly what I’ve done for years. I love thrift stores. I can’t get enough of vintage. I consign my own clothes regularly. I have been recycling, upcycling and downcycling clothes without even knowing I was doing it. By purchasing already worn clothes and passing my clothes on, I am reducing my carbon footprint one item of clothing at a time.