Sustainability = destroying your FURNITURE?

From Bean Bag Chair to Runway-Ready: How I Made a New rtw look from an old Amazon Find

This is it… the only known photo I have of the bean bag before I brutally cut her to pieces.

Let’s rewind. It’s my second semester of sophomore year — March… 2020. Do we remember what happened in March 2020? I’ll give you a hint: schools went online, lockdowns started, masks became the new normal — you get the idea.

So, there I am, in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, mid-project for my design class. The assignment? Create a look for Tee Time, our sustainability runway show. The whole point was to not just go buy fabric but to think beyond that, repurpose what already exists, and do our tiny part to not add to fashion’s mountain of waste.

I took it seriously roaming the streets of Tuscaloosa, hunting for something that could live its second life on the runway. That’s when I spotted it: my favorite consignment shop had this adorable armchair I’d been eyeing for weeks. It was covered in the cutest old-lady floral print but let’s be real, it did not match my apartment, and the thought of Alabama’s mystery furniture germs freaked me out a bit. But for a runway look? Perfect! Wash it, cut it, stick it on a model… I wasn’t the one wearing it, LOL.

I ran home, sketched out a dreamy quilted coat design, pitched it to my professor, got the green light, and was ready to buy the chair. And then… bam.

School went online. Everything closed. My little consignment shop? Shuttered indefinitely. A global pandemic was definitely not part of my mood board.

Now, here’s where it got tricky. I decided to stay in my college apartment to finish the school year, partly because I was already paying for it, partly because I knew my family would rope me into game night every single night if I went home. Meanwhile, my classmates were raiding their parents’ linen closets, cutting up their mom’s old jeans from the 80’s, those childhood tie-together-blankets you made in Girl Scouts — the works. My roommates had all moved out, so there was no one to beg for unwanted fabric. And my own stuff? Yeah, I’m weirdly attached to it. I wasn’t about to chop up my third-grade Field Day shirt that somehow made it to college with me.

Desperate times. I looked around my furnished apartment (the thought did cross my mind to cut up my building’s couch, I’m not gonna lie). But then I spotted it: one sad little gray bean bag chair in the corner of my room. Originally purchased for my emotional-support bestie, Reese, to sit in, but Reese had moved out. So, guess what, bean bag? You’re getting a glow-up.

I told myself, Don’t be sad, little bean bag. You’re about to become a fabulous coat.

I redid everything — my inspiration, mood boards, sketches — all now centered around the sleek, grey, plasticky aesthetic of my soon-to-be-ex-bean bag. Then I got to work.

Inspired by COVID-19 lockdowns and a Mad Max binge, I wanted this piece to have a gritty, dystopian vibe. Far from the scorching desert of Mad Max, my version imagines a world that’s cold, grey, and constantly raining — the kind of place that needs a badass sweatshirt to survive in.

INSPO

CONCEPT

ILLUSTRATION

I landed on a sweatshirt with a hood and two pockets, you know, to carry around whatever those dystopian guys always need so many pockets for. I started by carefully dissecting the bean bag chair — since only the outer layer was leather, I had to cut along the seams to get every bit of usable material. That single cover needed to become the front, back, hood, and shorts, so every inch counted. When I made the first cut, I half-expected filler beads to explode across my living room — but luckily, there was a net inside holding them all together. More material for me! Unfortunately, I did not have this blog in mind back in 2020 so I don’t have any progress photos but I did find this video of me releasing the beans… enjoy!

BE FREE BEANS BE FREE

I used the netting for the sleeves and extended the hem to amp up the dramatic, dystopian feel. For finishing touches, I added belting and buckles — sacrificing a harness-style vest I’d made earlier that year to pull it all together. In the end, the look feels exactly how I pictured it: gloomy, bold, and ready for any stormy future. Check out the final products!