Although our actions are minuscule compared to those of brands and companies, there are ways to engage with fashion that minimizes its impact on people or the planet. Here is how to navigate the sustainable fashion space.
This story is part of our 101 series, a collection of articles that unpacks the most pressing issues facing our planet today—and what you can do about them. Discover more from the series here.
As consumers, especially those living in rich countries, every purchasing decision we make impacts on our environment, and the lives of the people creating the items we buy.
The idea of being an ethical consumer, then, seems like an enlightened choice; one that implies we support sustainable fashion brands, consider each purchase, and minimize its negative effect on the planet and people. But, as Elizabeth L. Cline argues, we as individuals have minuscule ability to make change compared to that of companies. Describing the idea of a “good consumer” as rooted in a post-pandemic reckoning around idealism, Cline namechecks the much-quoted statement: “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism.”
The slogan is particularly true when it comes to fashion purchases.
The fashion industry is regularly held up as one of the largest contributors to environmental pollution in a time when we need to be minimizing this footprint. In March, it was estimated that fashion was responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions, more than those of maritime shipping and international flights combined. This doesn’t take into account its impact on people. This takes in issues like unsafe working conditions, wage theft, and child labor across manufacturing hubs, many of which are located in countries in the Global South, Reuters estimates that the gap between minimum wage and living wage in nearly 30 countries that produce clothes to be 48.5%. This isn’t just fast fashion—in July, it was discovered that a company in Italy contracted by luxury brands, including Dior and Armani, were paying migrant workers as little as $2 an hour.
The exploitative systems that uphold the fashion industry make for pretty grim reading, and the reality of the pace and scale of the industry’s harm also raises the question of where fashion goes from here. With the hope of motivating any person with a conscience to stop buying new clothes for fear of being complicit in a system that is only harmful, our guide goes some way to explain ways of getting dressed that, if not totally ethical, might at least mitigate the harm of your actions in some small way.
What Are the Limitations of Sustainable Fashion?
In 2022, Kenneth P. Pucker, the former COO of Timberland wrote an article for the Harvard Business Review titled “The Myth of Sustainable Fashion.” In it, he explains how a combination of overproduction, the continued use of polluting polyester, and the drive to profit will always override the industry’s commitments to sustainability.
Pucker argues that the way to actually make change will start with more legislation to demand accountability from companies, including the mandatory sharing of supply chains and paying for disposal of their goods. He also suggests government legislation to tax resources like carbon, water and virgin plastic (including polyester) and fines for bigger companies that do not share supply chains, reduce carbon emissions and ensure living wages for workers. Perhaps most radically, he wants to “retire sustainability” because “less unsustainable is not sustainable.”
Pucker is not alone in calling out the industry for driving environmental and social harms. But even with these expert opinions, sustainable fashion is a growing category. Gen-Z is now in place as a primary demographic for brands to appeal to, and sustainability is important to them—research shows that 75% of them make this a factor in their purchasing decisions. If that sounds like a positive shift—and it is, in theory—it’s also driving brands to greenwash, using terms that signpost sustainability but in actual fact have little meaning, or are certainly misleading. This, in turn, creates a facade of change that drives “guilt-free” spending without fashion companies actually making the necessary changes to move away from largely extractive and exploitative practices in their supply chains.
In March, it was estimated that fashion was responsible for 10% of global carbon emissions, more than those of maritime shipping and international flights combined.
Though, for a long time, there was little sanction on this language, there is now some pushback. Earlier this year, the EU banned the use of terms such as “environmentally friendly,” “natural,” “biodegradable,” “climate neutral” or “eco” without evidence, while also introducing a total ban on carbon-offsetting claims. Of course, where these terms fade, others will appear. A WWF guide to greenwashing advises a pretty simple rule of thumb: look for businesses that comply with the three pillars of sustainability—environmental, social, and economic—and have the credentials to back it up. B Corp, Fair Wear, Fair Trade Cotton, and cotton body GOTS are good certifications to look out for, while in Germany the Green Button is a government-backed certification which signals clothing made in an environmentally and socially sound way.
While we’re waiting for Pucker’s shifts to make an impact, acting with knowledge and principle is perhaps better than doing nothing at all.
How Can I Slow Down My Fashion Consumption?
The internet is full of tips on how to buy less clothes as well as articles from well-meaning people who have stopped buying clothes altogether for an extended period of time. Tiffanie Darke, the journalist and influencer, is one dominant voice in the “buy less” space, thanks to her Rule of Five philosophy—which encourages citizens to buy just five new items of clothing a year.
Darke says this way of thinking focuses the mind, in the same way we think of “five-a-day” for fruit and veg or “two liters” for water. She encourages people to shop their own wardrobe when hankering for something new (as we typically only wear 20% to 30% of what we own), and advises a two-week “cooling off period” between seeing a potential buy and making the purchase. A wardrobe audit—looking at what you actually own, potentially even using an app like Whering to catalog what you have—is also a tactic worth employing.
Andrea Cheong is another leader here. A former fashion influencer, she now advocates for the Mindful Monday method, which is less tangible than Darke’s but aims to help you think more intentionally about your shopping habits. She also analyzes the quality of what is available to buy by looking at the labels, and posts her finds on TikTok. Very little gets past her test—demonstrating how little is worth actually buying.
In an online world, temptation will always be a swipe away—and any use of social media puts us in the eye of the algorithms designed to keep us on their app and encourage us to buy more. With this in mind, buying less is a radical human action. Lauren Bravo, the author of How to Break Up With Fast Fashion, advises unsubscribing to brand emails and unfollowing them on social media. Instead, she recommends slow fashion activists like Aja Barber, who use their platforms to show the ways in which the system is built on racism, sexism, colonialism, and wealth inequality.