John Galliano returns to the atelier. But the collaboration with the Spanish giant Inditex raises questions that the press release hasn’t yet answered.

In January 2026, in Paris, a women’s dress designed by John Galliano for Dior sold at auction for € 637,500. A few weeks later, the same designer announced he would be working for Zara. Not for a six-piece capsule collection to be photographed on Instagram—for two years, with seasonal collections, drawing on the Spanish brand’s archive.

If you had a strange feeling reading these two sentences one after the other, that’s understandable. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong. It means it’s complicated. And complicated things deserve to be explored in depth.

In an era where sustainable and slow fashion are gaining ground, it’s legitimate to ask whether this choice represents a step forward or a contradiction to the sustainability values ​​many consumers seek today.

Who is Galliano?

John Galliano is one of the greatest fashion technicians of the twentieth century. Born in Gibraltar, he trained in London at Central Saint Martins, and became creative director of Givenchy in 1995, then of Dior in 1996. For fifteen years, he transformed fashion shows into theatrical events—shows inspired by feudal Japan, Tsarist Russia, and the homeless of Paris—with clothes constructed on a sartorial architecture that many consider unsurpassed. His fashion shows were cinema, theater, and the anthropology of beauty. His bias-cut silk dresses reappear today on red carpets and at auctions.

In 2011, he was fired from Dior after a video showed him drunk in a Parisian bar uttering anti-Semitic remarks. It was a disastrous fall. Three years of silence followed, a detox, a year of study with a rabbi, and finally a public apology in the 2024 documentary High & Low. Professional rehabilitation came in 2014, when Renzo Rosso appointed him creative director of Maison Margiela. In ten years, Margiela’s sales grew by 24%. The Artisanal collection for winter 2024—presented under a Parisian bridge, featuring extreme corsetry and fabrics worked like sculptures—is considered one of the most powerful of the last twenty years.

In 2024, he left Margiela. For two years, silence. Then, on March 17, 2026, Zara.

What exactly does the agreement provide — and what doesn’t it?

The joint statement states that Galliano will work directly with pieces from Zara’s past seasons, deconstructing and reconfiguring them into new expressions and seasonal creations. The process is called “re-authoring“—a word invented for the occasion, which doesn’t exist in the vocabulary of fashion or sustainability.

Here, it’s necessary to be precise. International press reports indicate that Galliano will create new toiles inspired by pieces from the Zara archives, with new shapes, fabrics, colors, and clothing bearing his distinctive signature (WWD). A toile, in tailoring parlance, is the canvas pattern that precedes the creation of the final garment—it’s the creative starting point. Translated: Galliano uses the Zara archive as a point of inspiration and formal starting point, not as physical material to be transformed piece by piece.

How significant this will be will depend on how much of the line actually comes from reworked stock versus newly manufactured products (Grazia International). We don’t know at this time, as the details of the collection are still unknown. Zara has announced that further information will be released later.

This distinction isn’t a technical detail. It’s the difference between an upcycling operation and a creative effort that uses the archive as inspiration—potentially producing entirely new garments. One reduces production volumes. The other doesn’t, or not necessarily.

Why Galliano says it’s sustainable

During Paris Fashion Week, Galliano told Vogue Business that the project is “a very positive thing to do right now, and truly creatively sustainable.”

The expression is interesting precisely because it contains an important qualification: creatively sustainable. It doesn’t say “environmentally sustainable.” It doesn’t say “low-impact.” It says: it’s sustainable as a creative approach—in the sense that it reuses, reinterprets, and doesn’t start from scratch.

It’s a fair distinction, if you read it that way. The problem is that in public discourse, and especially in marketing, “sustainable” has become a word used without specifying what it’s used for. And when Zara—one of the world’s largest fast-fashion producers—says that one of its lines is “sustainable,” the word carries with it all the weight of what isn’t said.

Inditex’s track record: what it says, what it does

Since 2022, Zara has been undergoing a strategic repositioning process to break away from fast fashion. Galliano is not an isolated case—he is the latest in a string of high-profile designers who have collaborated with Zara, including Narciso Rodriguez, Stefano Pilati, Kate Moss, and Steven Meisel.

Inditex is a company that claims not to ignore sustainability. In its 2025 report, it states that 88% of the fibers used are alternatives with a lower environmental impact, with 47% recycled fibers. Between 2020 and 2025, it reduced unit water consumption in the supply chain by 25%.

These numbers exist. But they must be read within a broader context. A Thomson Reuters Foundation investigation has documented how Inditex’s use of air freight to fuel the fast fashion market is excessive and growing—a practice that contributes to the climate crisis and increases pressure on workers, forced to work unsustainable hours for low wages, exactly the opposite of what is disclosed in sustainability reports.

And there’s a structural question that no press release answers: does the Galliano line add to Zara’s existing production, or does it partially replace it? If the answer is “adds,” the company’s net environmental impact increases, not decreases—regardless of the creative sophistication of the project.

Why this news is also a symptom

Beyond Galliano and Zara, this story tells about something larger about the fashion industry right now.

With Dior and Chanel charging €5,000 for a jacket, €4,000 for a bag, and couture reaching €135,000 for a dress, the trend is moving in the opposite direction (The Hollywood Reporter). Galliano isn’t alone—Francesco Risso, former creative director of Marni, has taken the helm of Gu, a brand of the Fast Retailing group; Clare Waight Keller, former creative director of Givenchy, is now creative director of Uniqlo; and Zac Posen has taken over as creative director of Gap (Il Sole 24 Ore).

This phenomenon has at least two interpretations. The first, optimistic: high-end creativity is finally becoming accessible to a wider audience, democratizing an aesthetic language that had remained locked away within the fashion houses for decades. The second, more critical point: big names lend their cultural reputation to brands that need it to compete with Shein and Temu on a terrain—credibility—where low prices are no longer enough.

Ultrafast players like Shein and Temu can always be cheaper and faster. They can’t easily compete on cultural authority. Partnering with a designer whose archive breaks auction records is a way to buy credibility, not just clicks (Grazia International).

A phenomenon that has a name

How the clothes we wear shape our thoughts — and why that has a lot to say for sustainable fashion

Enclothed cognition refers to the way clothing influences psychological processes such as thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, both through physical sensation and symbolic meaning. Research shows that this effect depends both on the associations we make when we wear clothes and on the physical experience. In recent years, this phenomenon has opened a fascinating window into the relationship between what we wear and what we think, feel, and do.

The coat that sharpened the mind

It all starts with a now-classic study, published in 2012 by Hajo Adam and Adam D. Galinsky in Journal of Experimental Social Psychology. The researchers had a group of participants wear a white doctor’s coat and complete some attention tests. The result? They performed significantly better than those who performed the same tasks in normal clothes—or even than those who had the coat before their eyes, but not on them.

The key detail is precisely this: it wasn’t enough to see the coat. You had to wear it. And you had to know what it represented.

According to Adam and Galinsky, enclothed cognition works through two simultaneous channels: the physical sensation of the fabric on the body and the symbolic meaning that sensation activates. The doctor’s coat isn’t just a garment—it’s a cultural code that evokes care, rigor, and responsibility. When we put it on, that code enters us. Their study formally defines the phenomenon as “the systematic influence of clothing on psychological processes,” emphasizing that this effect depends both on the physical act of wearing the garment and on the understanding of its symbolic meaning.

Not just lab coats: clothes always speak

Once the logic is understood, examples multiply everywhere.

Those who work from home know that staying in their pajamas until the afternoon has a real cognitive cost: it’s difficult to feel productive without the ritual of “getting dressed.” Conversely, many professionals report keeping their jackets on even during video conferences during lockdown—not to look good, but to feel in character.

Athletes are not immune: studies on so-called power dressing show that wearing uniforms perceived as “champion-like” affects confidence and even physical performance. Colors matter, shapes matter, and the weight of the fabric matters.

There’s one example that’s striking for its precision: a study (Dubois & Anik, Emerald 2022) showed that wearing heels makes women feel more powerful than when they wear flats—but only under one condition: that the heels are visible to the observer. When they’re hidden, the effect vanishes. This confirms that cognition is activated not only by the physical sensation, but by the social recognition of the symbol.

Enclothed mood

And then there’s the emotional side: what we call enclothed mood—the effect that a favorite, comforting, or simply “right” outfit has on our mood on difficult days.

Professor Karen Pine of the University of Hertfordshire (2014) documented a distinct connection between mood and clothing choices: when they feel sad or depressed, women tend to wear jeans, and when they’re stressed, their world narrows to the point where they wear only 10% of their wardrobe, ignoring everything else. This effect occurs due to the combination of the symbolic meaning attributed to the garment and the physical experience of wearing it.

The mechanism also works in reverse: Pine has developed a list of “happy clothes“—garments that tend to induce positive emotional states—identifying characteristics such as:

• natural fibers (linen, cotton, silk, wool)
• flowing fabrics
• bright colors
• and vintage pieces

all of which evoke positive symbolic associations for the wearer.

What if the dress also spoke about the planet?

So far, so science. But there’s an even more interesting, yet less explored, territory: what happens when the clothing we wear is sustainable?

Applying the logic of enclothed cognition to ethical consumption opens up a territory still little explored by research. If a white coat activates values ​​of care and precision, a garment made with more eco-friendly materials, ethically produced, consciously chosen, or a second-hand dress could activate something similar: a sense of responsibility toward the environment, of coherence with one’s values, of belonging to a different vision of the world.

It’s a fascinating hypothesis that we’re advancing, and one that we at Dress ECOde intend to explore with empirical tools. Some researchers have already begun exploring this area. In 2025, Cegarra-Navarro and colleagues at the Polytechnic University of Cartagena (2025) published the first study formally using the concept of “sustainable enclothed cognition” (SEC) in Journal of Intellectual Capital: the idea that low-impact clothing can evoke values ​​of respect for the ecosystem, reinforcing more sustainability-oriented behaviors and mindsets in its wearers. The study—conducted on 211 young workers—shows that when consumers choose sustainable clothing by integrating logic, emotion, and values, the connection with the brand deepens and translates into measurable relational capital for companies.

Wearing a sustainable garment knowing it is, according to this logic, would function as a physical and continuous reminder of one’s ecological values. The idea is that clothing made with low-impact materials can evoke values ​​of respect for the ecosystem, reinforcing more sustainability-oriented behaviors and mindsets in its wearers.

Does dressing sustainably really change behavior?

Thinking through the lens of enclothed cognition, the answer isn’t straightforward. Let’s consider some interesting findings from the research, even if the picture is more nuanced than one might hope.

A first finding concerns the perception of value. Industry studies show that consumers perceive sustainable garments as having superior quality and greater value, which translates into higher brand loyalty and a lower propensity for compulsive purchasing typical of fast fashion. Those who wear consciously chosen garments tend to associate them with a sense of environmental responsibility, spontaneously embracing more streamlined and less wasteful wardrobes.

A second phenomenon, which the literature calls spillover behavior, is even more interesting: the adoption of virtuous behavior tends to spread to other areas of life. A study published in Fashion and Textiles (2016) documented how consumers’ recycling behavior spills over into eco-friendly fashion purchases through a specific mediating mechanism: environmental concern. Translated: those who already recycle tend to purchase more ethical fashion, and the process also works in reverse. Pro-environmental behaviors are not independent of one another—they feed off one another. A communication strategy focused on a single virtuous behavior can, over time, trigger a cascade of broader choices.

A study published in Scientific Reports (2025) adds another piece: direct experience with sustainable products can lower the psychological threshold for similar future choices, reducing the perceived risk of purchasing less familiar circular products.

A fourth interesting effect concerns long-term changes. Available evidence indicates that consumers who have had positive experiences with ethical fashion show a lower overall purchase frequency—prioritizing quality over quantity—and a longer lifespan for each item, all of which benefits textile waste reduction.

Taken together, these four elements—the perception of superior value, spillover behavior between pro-environmental behaviors, reduced psychological risk for future choices, and the tendency to prioritize quality and durability—paint a coherent picture, albeit one still riddled with question marks. It’s something that closely resembles what we might call sustainable enclothed cognition. It’s not enough to buy a sustainable garment, just as it wasn’t enough to see a doctor’s coat. You have to wear it knowing what it represents. It’s the conscious meaning—not the recycled fabric itself—that can trigger change. If this mechanism applies to cognitive precision and a sense of empowerment, it could also apply to ecological responsibility. Sustainable clothing, worn with intention, would then become something more than a simple ethical purchase: a physical and continuous reminder of who one has chosen to be—and how one has chosen to be in the world. A symbolic value that, once activated, isn’t confined to the moment of purchase but guides behavior in a broader and more lasting way, choosing fewer, more meaningful pieces. Every time one wears that piece with awareness, one’s identity would be strengthened, and that identity would make choices consistent with it more natural.

What if it doesn’t work?

The research doesn’t hide the contradictions. A 2025 study of 1,009 American consumers published in PMC found that those who buy secondhand often consume more overall, not less. Purchasing behavior in secondhand stores is positively correlated with that in fast fashion stores, especially among younger consumers.

This is the so-called rebound effect, amplified by what psychologists call moral licensing: one feels virtuous for choosing secondhand, and that feeling of “moral credit” authorizes one to buy more elsewhere. Their conscience is clear, their wardrobe grows.

And it doesn’t end there. The same study on spillover behavior warns that the effect weakens—or disappears entirely—when the aesthetic quality of the sustainable product disappoints. Consumers are increasingly willing to support eco-friendly practices, but only if the garment is also beautiful. An unconventional design or one perceived as aesthetically risky can block any spillover. Sustainability alone isn’t enough: we need products that are both environmentally friendly and aesthetically pleasing.

Research confirms this: consumers of sustainable fashion associate these garments with greater quality and longevity, but there’s still a gulf between this perception and real, measurable behavioral change. And some research warns of a paradoxical effect: those who buy secondhand or ethical fashion don’t necessarily buy less overall—sometimes they simply buy more, through different channels.

The practical implications if it worked instead

Despite the contradictions, the potential of sustainable enclothed cognition is too compelling to ignore. If the mechanism works, the consequences extend far beyond the individual consumer.

Companies could rethink their uniforms as tools of organizational culture. Equipping employees with eco-friendly workwear isn’t just an external communication choice—it could concretely reinforce sustainability values ​​in the wearer’s daily attitude, influencing decisions and brand perceptions from within. Cegarra-Navarro and colleagues formulate it bluntly: clothing choices act as a form of nonverbal communication and are an integral part of creating sustainable corporate practices.

On the marketing front, the phenomenon offers a powerful yet underutilized argument: instead of communicating sustainability solely through certifications and numbers—how much CO₂ has been saved, how many bottles have been recycled—brands could convey what it feels like to wear an ethical garment. The sense of responsibility, consistency, and authenticity could be a much more effective lever for engagement than aesthetics or price.

And then there’s the minimalist wardrobe. Having fewer, more meaningful pieces, carefully chosen and worn over long periods of time, is exactly the kind of relationship with clothing that enclothed cognition values. A small wardrobe that’s consistent with your values ​​isn’t a sacrifice—it’s an identity enhancer.

Let’s try to imagine

If enclothed cognition works through the combination of physical sensation and conscious symbolic meaning, we can try to think about how the same mechanism could be activated with sustainable clothing—even if no one has yet rigorously measured it.

Let’s take a concrete example. Every morning, a person puts on an upcycled sweatshirt, purchased from a brand whose supply chain they know. They know how it’s made, they know what it represents. According to the logic of enclothed cognition, that garment isn’t just a warm garment: it’s a physical reminder, worn for hours, of one’s intention to consume differently. Much like the doctor’s coat activated attention and rigor, that sweatshirt could activate—with each subsequent purchase—a higher threshold of awareness. Not because the fabric has magical properties, but because the meaning we attribute to it silently guides our behavior.

Or again: imagine a manufacturing employee given uniforms made from recovered fabrics with a precise explanation of how and why they were produced. Not an institutional communication forgotten in an email, but something they wear every day. The logic of enclothed cognition suggests that that gesture—consciously wearing a symbol of corporate values—could strengthen identification with those same values ​​far more than any sustainability training course.

A third example concerns those who choose secondhand with intention—not to save money, but out of conviction. If that person knows the history of the garment, knows where it comes from, and has deliberately chosen it as an alternative to new, they might experience that garment as an active statement of identity. And according to the mechanism Adam and Galinsky described, that statement wouldn’t remain merely external: it would re-enter, day after day, the way that person thinks about themselves and their choices.

These are hypotheses, not certainties. But they are hypotheses based on the same logic that produced measurable results with doctor’s coats and high heels. They are worth putting to the test.

An open territory: Dress ECOde’s contribution

Enclothed cognition reminds us of something we know intuitively but tend to overlook: clothes are not neutral. They are not passive containers of our bodies—they are active constructors of our selves.

If this applies to a doctor’s coat, it could also apply to a recycled wool sweater chosen with intention, a secondhand jacket purchased with awareness of its history, or an ethically produced dress worn with pride. The skin touching the fabric, the meaning we recognize in that fabric: the mechanism is the same.

But it “couldn’t” be enough. The available research raises more questions than it answers, and the direct connection between enclothed cognition and long-term sustainable behavior remains to be empirically demonstrated with the rigor it deserves.

This is why at Dress ECOde, we’re interested in contributing to the study of this phenomenon: understanding whether and how dressing sustainably—not just buying ethical products, but wearing them with awareness of their meaning—can become a real driver of cultural change toward more conscious clothing choices.

The question that guides us is simple, even if the answer isn’t: can the right dress, worn with the right awareness, change the way we think and act in the world? We believe it’s worth finding out.

A research-based analysis of the sustainable fashion influencer landscape

Green influencers: a paradox?

In November 2023, the U.S. Federal Trade Commission sent warning letters to several influencers and the organizations that paid them, emphasizing the need to clarify financial connections in undeclared product promotions. Fines can reach up to $50,000 for each violation. Yet, an analysis of over 100 million tweets between 2014 and 2021 revealed that the vast majority of commercial content on social media is not adequately disclosed by the influencers who post it (source: VoxEU). Consumers are unable to distinguish commercial from non-commercial content in the absence of transparency labels.

A 2024 European study (European Commission) found that 38% of the 576 influencers examined do not use platform-provided tools such as the “paid partnership” button, but prefer vague terms such as “collaboration,” “partnership,” or “thanks to the brand.” Only 36% were registered as merchants nationwide, and 30% did not provide any business details in their posts.

When it comes to sustainability, this opacity becomes even more problematic. Influencers promoting sustainable fashion find themselves in a paradoxical position: on the one hand, they are called upon to educate and inspire ethical behavior, while on the other, they operate in an economic system that rewards them through commercial partnerships that could compromise their independence.

The role of regulations

Regulators propose using a hashtag like “#ad” to minimize potential confusion, but data shows the need for greater regulatory oversight of undisclosed online advertising.

In France, a law has been in effect since 2023 requiring influencers to explicitly disclose commercial partnerships, prohibiting the promotion of aesthetic medical procedures and nicotine-containing products, and requiring legal representation in the EU for foreign influencers targeting French audiences.

In the United States, the FTC finalized a rule in August 2024 prohibiting the creation or sale of fake reviews, including those generated by AI, and deceptive practices such as purchasing fake followers or views to misrepresent influence on social media.

However, enforcement remains limited.

What the numbers say

The influencer marketing market is expected to reach $32.55 billion in 2025, growing 33.11% annually over the past decade (Influencer Marketing Benchmark Report 2025). According to a 2023 Unilever study, influencers can effectively guide people toward a more sustainable lifestyle (75% of people say they’ve made them more likely to adopt eco-friendly behaviors).

But there’s a price to pay: every minute spent scrolling on TikTok generates 2.63 grams of CO₂e (Greenly 2024). Given its user base (around 1 billion) and high engagement, some estimates suggest that TikTok’s total annual carbon footprint could exceed 50 million tons, as much as Greece’s annual emissions. A paradox is evident.

In the fashion industry, the data tell a complex story. One study highlights the effectiveness of influencer-led campaigns in promoting sustainable behavior, particularly in contexts where low awareness hinders the adoption of circular models in fashion (D.A., Lechuga-Cardozo, J.I., Areiza-Padilla, J.A. et al.). At the same time, according to the BoF-McKinsey State of Fashion 2024 survey, 68% of respondents are dissatisfied with the high volume of sponsored content on social media, and 65% rely less on fashion influencers than a few years ago. This shift signals the need for more authentic and transparent partnerships, as audiences seek trustworthiness over sheer volume.

Micro-influencers: Does authenticity come at a lower price?

An interesting trend emerges from the most recent scientific research. Studies from 2024-2025 show that influencers with a smaller number of followers generate significantly higher engagement rates than macro-influencers. On Instagram, nano-influencers appear to achieve an engagement rate above 2%, micro-influencers around 1.8%, while mega-influencers (over 1 million followers) hover below 1%.

Research published in the World Journal of Advanced Research and Reviews in 2024 shows that nano-influencers achieve significantly better audience engagement than macro-influencers because consumers are more trusting and attentive towards those affiliated with a particular subculture or niche. 44% of brands prefer to collaborate with nano-influencers and 26% with micro-influencers, compared to only 17% for macro-influencers (Influencer Marketing Hub, The State of Influencer Marketing 2024: Benchmark Report).

According to a study published in Sustainability (2024), an influencer’s perceived authenticity is the critical factor in their ability to persuade followers, underscoring the importance of considering the role of credibility when designing effective influencer marketing campaigns aimed at promoting sustainable consumption. Posts featuring personal experiences on sustainable initiatives receive more engagement than branded collaborations.

However, the research also highlights a “greenwashing effect” that leads to negative attitudes when consumers perceive a discrepancy between sustainability claims and the influencer’s actual behavior.

Misleading marketing occurs when influencers, intentionally or through “content tuning,” combine or promote sustainable messages with brands that are not truly ethical.

Consistency is key: trust is undermined when influencers promote sustainability while simultaneously continuing to produce high-volume “hauls” or partner with fast fashion.

Brands should be careful to assess the potential risks of misinformation and miscommunication that can be spread by an influencer.

(Dis)trust in green influencers

A 2025 study published in the International Journal of Management Science identifies how digital greenwashing differs from traditional greenwashing because it operates in an unregulated environment with rapidly changing content, making it difficult to track and verify claims. The study highlights the greater difficulty in identifying greenwashing on platforms focused on aesthetic and emotional content, such as Instagram, especially when micro-influencers promote questionable “green” content. Short-form videos on such platforms appear to prioritize visual appeal over factual evidence, making it more difficult to challenge misleading messages.

Once greenwashing is identified, the research reveals that negative reaction patterns are more intense among younger, digitally literate consumers, who are also more active in sectors with a significant environmental impact, such as food and fashion.

According to research published in Studies in Media and Communication (2025), the trustworthiness and interactivity of green influencers does not significantly impact the intention to purchase sustainable clothing, contrary to previous studies. The researchers explain this finding by the fact that consumers in their 30s and 40s who are tech-savvy and familiar with eco-friendly products may not fully trust the words of green influencers due to the effects of greenwashing.

While influencers can serve as powerful catalysts for raising awareness of eco-friendly products and practices, many are accused of promoting unsustainable products under the guise of environmental sustainability to attract socially conscious consumers. The pursuit of lucrative partnerships can lead influencers to endorse brands that aren’t truly sustainable, using the “green” label as a marketing tool rather than a reflection of core values.

Furthermore, many influencers prioritize aesthetics over impact, focusing on the visual appearance of “eco-friendly” products rather than their life cycle or environmental impact.

Authenticity as a discriminant

A meta-analysis published in PMC (2024) that examined 74 studies with over 12,000 data points identifies “performative authenticity” as a defining characteristic of effective micro-influencers. It’s commonly said that influence arises from:

• likes
• comments
• engagement
• how much the audience “adores” the influencer.

This research takes a different approach:

• it looks less at engagement
• more at the deep mechanisms of trust and attachment
• it analyzes influence in a more “cold and objective” way.

Influence arises not only from interaction, but from how the influencer fits into the construction of people’s identities. The most important result is this: people buy because they want to build and communicate their own identities.

In particular:

• Followers use micro-influencers as mirrors
• They see products (fashion, lifestyle, objects) as a way to express who they are
• If the influencer is credible, present, and consistent, the product becomes a means of self-expression

I don’t buy for the influencer. I buy to tell my story, using the influencer as a reference.

According to a 2024 study published in Advances in Consumer Research, the alignment between an influencer’s brand and the eco-friendly products they promote is critical: mismatches can lead to perceptions of opportunism or greenwashing, undermining consumer trust. Influencers’ transparency regarding their endorsements and the sustainability claims of the products they promote is essential to maintaining credibility and encouraging informed consumer decisions.

The real impact: behavioral change or impulse buying?

A 2025 study published in the Journal of Production, Operations Management and Economics raises a crucial question: do influencer campaigns inspire genuine behavioral change or simply promote fleeting impulse purchases? The study finds that influencers can significantly impact consumer decisions by creating aspirational lifestyles that incorporate sustainable products, and that consumers are more likely to purchase eco-friendly products when they perceive them as trendy or desirable, often thanks to influencers’ push. Ultimately, however, influencers often leverage emotional appeals to encourage consumers to make unplanned purchases. Influencer culture often encourages a high-consumption lifestyle, incompatible with true sustainability, even when the products are marketed as “green.”

Conflict of interest or genuine advocacy?

The answer, supported by scientific research, is: it depends. There are influencers genuinely committed to sustainability, but the system creates structural incentives for conflicts of interest.

Studies identify three necessary conditions for genuine advocacy:

1. Full transparency: Clear declaration of all financial connections with brands, including free products
2. Behavioral consistency: Alignment between stated values ​​and the influencer’s personal lifestyle
3. Demonstrable expertise: Solid knowledge of sustainability issues, critical analysis skills, and references to verifiable sources

Modern consumers are adept at spotting greenwashing and severely punish companies (and influencers) that use sustainability as a mere marketing tool.

Deinfluencing: From Criticism of the System to Yet Another Trend

In 2023, the “deinfluencing” phenomenon exploded on TikTok, a movement that initially promised to subvert the culture of overconsumption fostered by traditional influencers. Early videos showed creators opening drawers filled with 50 unused red lipsticks, confessing they didn’t really need them. The hashtag #deinfluencing reached over 3.5 billion views by mid-2024, and according to the 2024 Consumer Buying Habits Report, 36% of consumers have avoided purchases due to negative or critical reviews from influencers—a figure that rises to 56% for Gen Z. At the same time, 77% of Gen Zers have made a purchase influenced by social media in the past six months (Sociallyin 2026).

As often happens on social media, the movement quickly transformed. “Deinfluencing” videos have simply become another form of influence: instead of saying “don’t buy this expensive product,” influencers have started saying “don’t buy this expensive product, buy this cheaper one instead”—often from Amazon or other retailers with questionable sustainability practices. What began as a statement against consumerism has become a way for influencers to call out products they don’t like, simply suggesting others.

The deinfluencing phenomenon demonstrates that consumers, especially younger ones, desire authenticity and transparency. But as long as sustainability information remains tied to commercial logic, the risk of greenwashing—conscious or unconscious—remains structural. True advocacy requires not only expertise and consistency, but also financial independence from the very companies being evaluated.

The future between real and virtual

The future of influencer marketing in sustainable fashion will depend on the ability to develop economic models that reward authenticity and expertise, rather than simply the ability to generate engagement and immediate sales. Those who succeed in living sustainability and transforming it into real value for the community will be crucial.

The emergence of virtual influencers (digital avatars, AI-generated, 3D characters) adds another layer to the landscape. The influencer is no longer a real person, but an intentional construct.

This breaks many assumptions of traditional influencer research, which is based on:

• perceived authenticity
• personal experience
• human experience
• coherence between real life and communication

With virtual influencers, all of this is simulated:

authenticity is designed
transparency is a choice, not a consequence
coherence is perfect, but artificial

This raises a key question for sustainable consumption: can we trust an ethical message if the person communicating it has no real responsibility?

The emergence of virtual influencers fully warrants dedicated research because:

• It redefines key concepts such as authenticity, trust, and responsibility
• It introduces new mechanisms of identification and self-branding
• It can have ambivalent effects on sustainable consumption, ranging from education to greenwashing

Studying the impact of their characteristics on sustainable consumption is not only relevant, but necessary to understand the ethical and cultural evolution of influence marketing.

The results of the “Spinning Greenwash” study

The Changing Markets Foundation, a nonprofit organization working on environmental sustainability, commissioned research from the Microplastic Research Group at Çukurova University (Turkey) to compare the release of microplastics between recycled and virgin polyester fabrics. The results reveal a surprising and worrying situation:
The recycled polyester garments tested released an average of approximately 55% more microfibers than those made from virgin polyester during wash cycles.

In terms of average quantity, the study recorded approximately 12,430 microfibers per gram in recycled fabrics, compared to 8,028 microfibers per gram in virgin polyester.

The microfibers released from recycled fabrics are smaller—with an average length of approximately 0.42 mm versus 0.52 mm—making them more easily dispersed and potentially more harmful to ecosystems and human health.

The 51 items analyzed came from five major fashion brands — Adidas, H&M, Nike, Shein, and Zara — and included items such as t-shirts, tops, dresses, and shorts.

What does this mean for the environment?

Microplastics are a globally recognized environmental problem: they are found in soil, waterways, and oceans, but also in living organisms, including human tissue, and are associated with potentially adverse effects on biological systems.

A single wash cycle can release hundreds of thousands of microfibers into wastewater, which treatment systems struggle to fully filter, allowing these particles to enter the environmental and food chains.

Where do all those tiny microfibers end up?

The answer is everywhere. Not just in the seas and rivers, but also in the air we breathe, in the soil of our fields, in the most remote sediments, even in the organic tissues of living beings. According to an Italian report on micro and nanoplastics in the human body (Vera Studio 2024), synthetic textiles are among the most significant sources of microplastics linked to home laundry processes, and certain technical steps like pre-washing can release far greater quantities of microfibers than simple washing and rinsing.

This is the reality: what we wear, wash, and use every day comes into contact with environments we can no longer separate from our daily lives. Yet, amid this scientific reality, some marketing narratives remain reassuring. The Changing Markets Foundation uses a powerful symbolic image to describe many companies’ communications: it calls it a “sustainability fig leaf,” a fig leaf that covers a deep dependence on synthetic materials without properly addressing the problem of microplastics (The Ecologist). And the message comes from an authoritative voice: Urska Trunk, senior campaign manager at Changing Markets, told The Ecologist very clearly that “fashion has sold recycled polyester as a green solution, yet our findings show it exacerbates the problem of microplastic pollution.”

Why is this phrase so important? Because it directly challenges the core of the global textile industry’s green narrative. It’s not about demonizing recycling—but about highlighting the fact that sustainability cannot be a superficial promise, based on catchy claims, if products continue to release significant amounts of microplastics.

And this awareness isn’t just for scientists or environmentalists. It’s about us, our consumption, our washing habits, and, ultimately, the future of our communities and the planet we inhabit.

Why does recycled material release more microplastics?

According to the authors of the Changing Markets study, the difference can be traced back to the structural characteristics of recycled fibers. During recycling processes—both mechanical and chemical—the polyester polymer chains shorten and weaken, making the fibers more fragile and prone to breakage. This leads to a greater release of microfibers during use and washing.

Labeling and transparency: another critical issue

The Changing Markets study also found discrepancies in brand claims: some garments advertised as being made from recycled polyester exhibited shedding behavior similar to that of virgin fabrics. In some cases, online labels and descriptions did not match the fiber information physically displayed on the garments, raising concerns about potentially misleading marketing practices.

What Other Research Says

In addition to the Changing Markets Foundation study, other scientific research is helping to clarify the situation, showing that recycled polyester is not automatically a better solution in terms of microfiber release. A study published in Environmental Pollution in 2024 found that, during home washing, recycled polyester garments can release more microfibers than virgin polyester ones, likely due to the lower mechanical strength of fibers subjected to recycling and heat treatments. Analyses conducted by The Microfibre Consortium confirm this trend in several cases, indicating, in some samples, a release of up to twice as many microfibers, often finer in size and therefore potentially more impactful on ecosystems and the food chain. However, the data also show strong variability: fabric structure, yarn type, production processes, and washing conditions significantly influence the results, with some tests showing less marked differences between virgin and recycled materials.

Overall, the scientific literature converges on one key point: polyester recycling reduces upstream plastic waste, but it does not solve—and can sometimes exacerbate—the problem of microplastic dispersion, confirming the need for a broader approach that includes material innovation, responsible textile design, and strategies to overall reduce the amount of synthetic fibers in circulation.

Microfibers and the Fabric Life Cycle: Beyond Home Washing

When discussing microplastics and microfibers, the common debate often focuses on release during home washing. However, recent research highlights that several stages of textile production are also significant sources of microfiber emissions. A study published in Scientific Reports monitored microfiber emissions in a large textile manufacturing plant and found that wet processing—such as dyeing and finishing—can release up to 25 times more microfibers than home washing cycles, with dyeing accounting for over 95% of emissions under some conditions. These findings suggest that the environmental impact of textiles is not reduced simply by changing the type of fiber (virgin or recycled), but requires optimization and mitigation from the earliest stages of production, for example, through lower dyeing temperatures, shorter process times, and the use of yarns and textile structures that minimize fiber shedding.

How Garment Care and Design Influence Microfiber Release

The amount of microfibers released from a garment depends not only on the material, but also on manufacturing techniques and care conditions. Different cutting and sewing methods, as well as washing conditions, can significantly influence the release of microplastics into the environment. Research published in Science of the Total Environment (2023, R Rathinamoorthy, S Raja Balasaraswathi) demonstrated that the use of more advanced cutting techniques such as laser or ultrasonic cutting can reduce microfiber release by up to 15–20 times compared to traditional scissors, while choosing specific stitch patterns and stitch densities can further reduce fraying. The use of multiple needles increases the release of microfibers across different variations of the same stitch pattern. For example, a 45.27% increase in microfiber release was reported with the 4-thread (2-needle) overlock stitch compared to the 3-thread (1-needle) stitch.

Furthermore, studies conducted on actual laundry loads (Science of the Total Environment, 2023, R Rathinamoorthy, S Raja Balasaraswathi) indicate that parameters such as temperature and cycle length influence the amount of microfibers released, with shorter, colder cycles, full loads, and high-efficiency washing machines reducing release. These findings highlight how changes in garment design and household care practices can help reduce microplastic shedding, complementing efforts to develop more sustainable materials.

An illusory solution or an intermediate step?

The findings of the Changing Markets study do not imply that all recycled materials are useless or that recycling has no value. Rather, they highlight a critical point: reducing environmental impact cannot be solely achieved by transitioning to “recycled” materials if they continue to release significant microplastics.

In other words, if the goal is a truly sustainable textile system, it is necessary to consider:

• design strategies that minimize the release of microfibers (e.g., low-release yarns, more compact textile structures, and less degrading finishes);
• technologies for capturing microfibers in domestic and industrial washing processes;
• an overall reduction in reliance on synthetic fibers—recycled or otherwise—in favor of alternative materials with a lower microplastic impact.

What we can do, concretely

For brands
• design garments with low-linting yarns and more compact structures;
• improve industrial processes, especially dyeing and finishing;
• adopt less fraying cutting and sewing techniques;
• communicate clearly and verifiably;
• invest in microfiber-capturing technologies in industrial laundries and supply chains.

For fashion buyers and consumers
• wash at low temperatures and shorter cycles;
• prefer full loads;
• use more efficient washing machines when possible;
• consider using certified filters or microfiber-capturing devices;
• above all: reduce dependence on fast fashion and synthetics, even recycled ones.
It’s not “buying nothing anymore.”
It’s buying better, less, more consciously.

Toward a broader vision of sustainability

This research is part of a broader debate on sustainability strategies in the fashion industry, which requires integrated and transparent approaches. It’s not just about replacing raw material A with B, but about rethinking production, consumption, and end-of-life models of garments with a truly circular perspective.
For consumers and industry professionals, the study is an invitation to look beyond “recycled” labels and evaluate concrete, independent data to make choices that truly make a difference.

The decision came after the French consumer watchdog (DGCCRF) discovered disturbing ads on the Shein marketplace: sex dolls with “child-like” features and even prohibited weapons, such as machetes and large knives.
In response, Shein announced a global ban on the sale of sex dolls on the platform, temporarily suspended the “adult products” category in France, and took action against the responsible sellers.
The investigation is ongoing, and French authorities have also involved the European Commission. Until proven otherwise, access to the site has not yet been completely blocked, but the suspension procedure is active. Shein took immediate measures to limit the reputational damage.

The paradox is clear: on the one hand, France appears to be targeting the ultra-fast fashion model with aggressive policies—such as a proposed law to impose a penalty on low-cost imports, fines for unfair business practices (e.g., Shein was fined €40 million for misleading discounts), and strong political action against Shein.

On the other hand, France is granting Shein prestigious physical access, thanks to a partnership with Société des Grands Magasins (SGM), which operates BHV and other stores in France, allowing for an “offline test” of the brand.

This means “banning online” but “accepting a physical store” at the same time—a contradiction that reflects real tensions between political values, economic interests, and market dynamics.

Why did France give the green light to the physical store?

Here are some hypotheses that help explain why:

Local business strategy: Shein states that France is “a major global fashion market” and that the physical opening serves to “respond to the demand for real-world contact” (Retail Gazette). In other words, from a traditional retail perspective (department stores, foot traffic), the deal makes commercial sense for SGM.

Differentiation between online and offline: The regulations France is implementing often primarily concern e-commerce, imports, low-cost shipping, and deceptive discounting practices. Opening a local physical store may seem like a more “controllable” environment.

Regulatory framework still evolving: Fines, anti-fast fashion rules, and import controls are coming but are not yet fully implemented or may have time limits. France appears to be “making the rules,” but in the meantime, the market continues to shift.

Economic and negotiating pressures: French department stores likely saw the agreement as an opportunity to boost sales (increased footfall, new products). Although politically criticized, there is significant private interest.

Possibility of control and oversight: The fact that the physical store was physically “visible” in Paris, within a regulated space, may have induced the authorities to accept the opening while simultaneously maintaining pressure on online sales.

Timing and lobbying: The fact that the opening caused a stir may also indicate that deals were made before the anti-fast-fashion law was in effect, or that the negotiation took place in a context where the brand was able to enter “before everything was clear.”

Social Reactions and Comments

The store’s opening was accompanied by protests: demonstrators holding signs (“From Colonization to Your Closets”) gathered outside the BHV.
But not everyone was opposed: one customer explained that the appeal for many is simply the price:

“With €200 a month, I can buy 50 T-shirts from Shein, or three made in France..”

(source The Guardian)

This comment underscores how ultra-cheap fast fashion responds to real economic demand, even among those on limited incomes. France’s action has not been confined to the national level: the government has written to the EU, requesting action under the Digital Services Act (DSA) (source: euronews).
The European Commission is involved, and the case could set a precedent for how member states can regulate digital platforms selling potentially illegal or morally controversial items.
Furthermore, according to the Brussels Times, French authorities have threatened permanent bans if certain products return to Shein’s platforms.

In Paris, Deputy Mayor Nicolas Bonnet Oulaldj openly criticized the agreement between Shein and SGM, declaring that allowing an ultra-fast fashion giant to enter the traditional retail landscape is “incompatible” with the city’s environmental and social goals. “Shein cannot be blamed for all the problems affecting French ready-to-wear,” reacted a spokesperson for the Shein platform in France. The Chinese giant plans to open five more discount clothing and accessories stores in the Galeries Lafayette department stores in Dijon, Reims, Grenoble, Angers, and Limoges. “This decision,” stated Anne Hidalgo, Mayor of Paris, “is contrary to the environmental and social ambitions of Paris, which supports responsible and sustainable local retail.” (source: Ansa.it)

BHV owner Frédéric Merlin responded firmly to the criticism, calling the partnership with Shein “the beginning of a new adventure” that combines e-commerce and traditional retail (source: The Guardian). According to him, the products sold in the store are manufactured by Shein itself (“made by Shein in Shein factories”) and are not solely third-party suppliers—a detail that could influence liability assessments.

Things We Don’t Know

There doesn’t appear to be an official French statement stating, “We allowed the physical opening because…” The explanations are drawn primarily from Shein’s statements.
It’s unclear whether the business license for the physical store comes with special conditions or whether there are specific monitoring agreements with local authorities.
It’s not yet clear how future legislation or French government action will impact that physical store (for example, inspections, restrictions, sanctions).
It’s unclear to what extent the physical opening is seen as a “loophole” with respect to online regulations (one possibility); there are no sources that explicitly state this.

Why aren’t Primark and Uniqlo receiving the same pressure as Shein?

Not all major “low-cost” clothing brands are receiving the same public and political pressure that Shein is currently experiencing, as the comparison with Primark and Uniqlo demonstrates. Both brands are present and expanding in France: Primark has announced a €200 million investment in France and Spain to expand its retail network by 2026 and has some of the most profitable stores in the French market; Uniqlo, for its part, continues to strengthen its presence with flagship stores, such as the renovated one in the Paris Opera district, and a large and stable network.

The reason these brands aren’t experiencing the same pressure as Shein?

• Different business models: Primark and Uniqlo operate primarily through established physical stores; they don’t rely on ultra-low-cost imports shipped individually from non-EU countries, as Shein does. This makes them less vulnerable to certain anti-import regulations or micro-parcel taxes.
• Clearer regulation: Many of the measures proposed by France (and other countries)—such as the tax on low-cost parcels—are aimed primarily at cross-border e-commerce, not at brick-and-mortar retailers with established chains.
• Visible and local presence: Having physical stores implies local responsibility, European-wide inventory management, and more direct control, elements that can make their presence more acceptable (politically and socially) compared to an ultra-fast, digital-only player.
• Sustainability and image strategy: Uniqlo, in particular, focuses heavily on “LifeWear” and an image of quality, functionality, and durability, which can mitigate criticism of “disposable” fashion. Primark, despite being “fast fashion,” has a very different model from Shein, with different margins and operating methods. So does greenwashing make a difference?

Primark e Uniqlo non sono però completamente fuori dal radar: l’UE ha richiamato tutti i grandi retailer, compresi questi due marchi, a maggiore trasparenza sulla tracciabilità e sulle performance ambientali attraverso il nuovo quadro normativo del Green Deal, dal Digital Product Passport al divieto di greenwashing e claim ambientali vaghi. La differenza è che, pur essendo criticati per il modello fast fashion, Primark e Uniqlo rientrano in una struttura regolatoria già conosciuta e gestita dall’Europa, mentre Shein rappresenta una sfida nuova: un “gigante digitale” che accelera più velocemente delle norme che cercano di incasellarlo.

Primark and Uniqlo aren’t completely off the radar, however: the EU has called on all major retailers, including these two brands, to increase transparency on traceability and environmental performance through the new Green Deal regulatory framework, from the Digital Product Passport to the ban on greenwashing and vague environmental claims. The difference is that, despite being criticized for their fast fashion model, Primark and Uniqlo fall within a regulatory framework already known and managed by Europe, while Shein represents a new challenge: a “digital giant” that is accelerating faster than the regulations that seek to pigeonhole it.

Reflections

The Shein case is emblematic of the fact that the transition to more sustainable fashion is not linear and full of contradictions. On the one hand, France seems to declare “enough with low-cost fast fashion,” while on the other, it accepts—without apparent resistance—the physical arrival of one of the protagonists of the model it seeks to limit.

What lessons can we learn?
Legislation may lag behind the market. Anti-fast fashion regulations, import taxes, and restrictions on misleading discounts are still being implemented. Meanwhile, fast fashion brands are expanding.
The “online” vs. “offline” model creates arbitrage: a physical store may appear more respectable or at least more visible, and therefore perhaps “less risky” in the eyes of authorities, than an e-commerce site shipping low-cost packages from abroad.
Public policies can clash with local economic interests (department stores, employment, customer traffic). This can lead to compromises or seemingly contradictory choices.
Finally, it’s a reminder: consistency between political statements and concrete actions is difficult. The effort towards sustainable fashion requires not only regulations, but also control tools, transparency, and perhaps alternative sales models that aren’t just “faster, cheaper.”

On October 14, 2025, the Commission fined three major luxury brands—Gucci, Chloé, and Loewe—a total of €157 million (approximately US$182 million) for restrictive practices regarding retail price revaluation.

According to the Commission, the three brands imposed conditions on their independent retailers that limited their pricing autonomy (both online and in-store), defining maximum discounts, predetermined sales periods, or even prohibiting certain discounts.

Gucci received the highest fine (approximately €119.7 million), Chloé about €19.7 million, and Loewe €18 million. The fines were reduced thanks to the brands’ cooperation with investigators.

Why it matters

• For the first time in the luxury fashion sector, the Commission highlights that price-control practices can constitute a violation of European antitrust rules, even when they concern recognized brands.
• This action confirms that the fashion sector is not excluded from the EU’s stringent focus on transparency, fair competition, and corporate responsibility.
• It comes at a time when the EU itself is simultaneously pushing for stricter rules on sustainable fashion, ethics, supply chain transparency, and anti-greenwashing practices. See, for example, the new rules on calculating the environmental footprint of clothing and footwear.

Implications for sustainable and ethic fashion

For a site like Dress ECOde, which focuses on sustainable and ethical fashion, this case offers useful insights.

A. Fair competition = part of sustainability.

Truly sustainable fashion isn’t just about materials, production, waste, or working conditions, but also about fair business practices. When a brand limits retailers’ pricing freedom, it can lead to higher costs for consumers and influence intense competition that can spur more eco-friendly or ethical alternatives. Compliance with competition rules is therefore an integral part of overall responsibility.

B. Trasparenza e responsabilità Transparency and responsibility

This case reinforces the message that companies must be responsible on multiple fronts—not just environmental and social aspects, but also governance, distribution channels, and commercial policies. Consumers focused on sustainable fashion are increasingly sensitive to these aspects.

C. Opportunity for sustainable brands

Brands that adopt rigorous criteria for production, material selection, working conditions, and transparent distribution can gain a competitive advantage. In a scenario where big names are under pressure from authorities like the Commission, the opportunity for ethical/sustainable brands to differentiate themselves with credibility emerges.

D. What consumers should ask themselves

• Is the brand transparent about its sales and resale policies?

• Are there any conditions imposed on retailers that could limit discounts or independent decisions?
• Does the brand demonstrate responsibility beyond “just” sustainable materials, including pricing and distribution practices?

Curiosities about the three brands and the context

Here are some lesser-known facts that provide context for the three fashion houses involved:

• Gucci: Part of the French group Kering. Gucci has previously faced controversies related to diversity, representation, and inclusivity in its campaigns. The fact that the highest fine was imposed on Gucci highlights the extent to which even high-end luxury brands are held accountable for behind-the-scenes practices.Chloé: A French brand known for its feminine and cool-chic style. Chloé’s fine was “only” the second of the three, but it was significant. In official statements, Chloé has already stated that it has strengthened its compliance and internal competition training following the Commission’s notification.Loewe: A Spanish brand, part of the LVMH group. Often perceived as a luxury boutique, the fine highlights that even brands that are perhaps less mainstream than Gucci are not “safe.” Choosing to collaborate allowed the fine to be reduced.

The broader context – This decision comes as the EU tightens regulations on fashion and textiles, for example, the new Product Environmental Footprint Category Rules (PEFCR) for clothing and footwear, presented in June 2025.

An interesting connection – Although the case is primarily about competition and price, for the consumer focused on “sustainable fashion,” it’s a reminder: a brand’s reputation for sustainability/plastics/waste/supplier verification can coexist with less transparent business practices. It’s about considering sustainability holistically: it’s not just about “more ethical materials,” but includes business practices, transparency, and governance.

Conclusion

The European Commission’s fine against Gucci, Chloé, and Loewe marks a turning point: it demonstrates that even luxury brands cannot ignore the rules of competition, and that sustainability in fashion requires attention to every aspect—from fiber to distribution, from price to product durability.
For readers interested in ethical and sustainable fashion, this is a useful reminder: simply choosing “eco” isn’t enough to make a garment labeled “recycled” or “green”—it’s essential to verify the brand’s entire history. Dress ECOde’s informative role aims to guide informed consumers and brands toward truly sustainable, ethical, and transparent choices.

The Dutch Study: 41% of Labels Are Wrong

A study conducted in the Netherlands* on more than 10,000 garments revealed alarming statistics: labels were inaccurate in 41% of cases. Most of the sample consisted of post-consumer, non-reusable clothing items discarded by consumers and delivered to a textile sorting center. Significant differences were found in the accuracy of composition claims between pure and blended materials. Discrepancies were especially evident in garments mixing fibers (e.g., cotton + polyester), where the accuracy rate dropped to just 23%. Analyses suggest that the intentional exaggeration of cotton content is indeed plausible. For pure fibers, the accuracy rate rose to 77%.

This is not just a matter of dishonest marketing: misleading labels erode consumer trust, complicate recycling processes, and fuel greenwashing.

Examples from the EU Market

EU regulations require all textile products sold within the Union to display clear and legible information about their composition. However, checks conducted by NGOs and independent bodies have shown that some brands fail to comply — particularly when labels include implicit environmental claims (green claims) without solid evidence.

In the fur market, for example, a study** analyzing 667 items containing animal fibers found that 68% did not comply with EU labeling rules. Real and synthetic fur are becoming increasingly similar in appearance, texture, and even price. Consumers — most of whom reject real fur for ethical reasons — must receive accurate information to make informed choices. It is often assumed that a low price indicates synthetic fur, and that if an item contains real fur, such information should be clearly displayed on the label. However, the current labeling system fails to provide an easy way to alert consumers to the presence of real animal fur.

Greenwashing and Misleading Environmental Claims

Why It’s a Problem (Beyond Fraud): The Real Consequences

This kind of misrepresentation goes far beyond deceiving the consumer.

1. Compromised Traceability and Textile Recycling
   In a world where recycling and sustainable practices are essential, recyclers need accurate information about the fabrics they work with. For those involved in recycling or circular economy processes, knowing the exact fiber (cotton, wool, polyester, etc.) is crucial for proper material handling. The effectiveness of recycling relies on understanding a garment’s material composition, since different fabrics require distinct recycling methods. False labeling hinders sorting and reduces the quality of regeneration processes. Misinformation can lead to contamination of recycling streams, lowering overall efficiency and causing further environmental harm. Simply put, if we don’t know what a fabric is made of, we can’t treat or dispose of it properly.
2. Erosion of Consumer Trust
   When we discover that a garment isn’t what it claimed to be — for instance, “100% cotton” turns out to be a blend, or “Made in Italy” is a false indication — the relationship with the brand is damaged. Today’s conscious consumers highly value label honesty, and each deception undermines brand reputation. As shoppers become more attentive to sustainable choices, they often rely on labels to guide their purchases. Some consumers also have specific needs regarding fabric composition — for example, due to allergies, religious beliefs, or personal values. For many, understanding a garment’s material is also essential for assessing its environmental impact. When labels are misleading, consumers believe they’re making responsible choices, only to realize they’ve unknowingly supported practices that contradict their values.
3. Fueling Greenwashing
   Generic environmental claims (“eco,” “sustainable,” “green”) without real transparency create the illusion of doing the right thing, while the actual impact may be identical — or even worse. Deceptive labels become a marketing tool, not an information tool.
4. Legal Risks and Penalties
   In the EU market, brands that provide misleading information may face inspections, administrative sanctions, or compensation claims. Some countries are already scrutinizing environmental claims more closely to enforce greater transparency.

Do you already know of some real cases of false or misleading labeling in clothing?
Listen to this episode to find out what happened — in our country and beyond

The Causes Behind the Errors

1. Complex and Fragmented Supply Chains
   Textile supply chains often span multiple continents, involving numerous suppliers, dyeing processes, treatments, and finishing stages. Sometimes brands receive fabrics that are already blended or reprocessed, making accurate traceability extremely difficult.

2. Insufficient Testing and Quality Control
   Some brands do not test every batch or rely solely on visual checks instead of chemical analyses. This increases the margin of error when suppliers provide incomplete or partial composition data.

3. Costs and the Desire for Differentiation
   Claiming a high percentage of natural or “eco” fibers can make a product more appealing. In some cases, there’s a temptation to round up figures or present the “best-case scenario”rather than the truth.

4. Unclear Regulations or Poor Enforcement
   Labeling laws exist, but their implementation varies widely between countries. Minor violations are often barely penalized. Although brands and retailers are legally required to provide accurate information about the composition of products they place on the market, they have (so far) faced no public legal consequences for inaccurate labeling. When a brand discovers that a label is incorrect, the entire shipment — both in storage and in transit — must be recalled and re-labeled.

What a Sustainability-Focused Brand Should Do

The Dutch study serves as a wake-up call for brands in the sustainable fashion sector. It highlights the need for clear standards and rigorous controls in labeling practices to ensure accuracy. As sustainable brands strive to differentiate themselves in a saturated market, a commitment to labeling honesty can enhance credibility and strengthen consumer trust.

Brands that prioritize accurate labeling not only embody their sustainability values but also empower consumers to make informed choices. By ensuring the accuracy of fabric composition and country-of-origin information, brands can contribute to a more transparent fashion system.

The positive ripple effects of precise labeling go far beyond immediate trust: they encourage a shift toward circular economy principles, where consumers feel confident about recycling or reusing their garments — ultimately helping to reduce waste.

The Importance of Accurate Textile Labeling

In 2020, the Global Fashion Agenda report emphasized the importance of transparency, calling for greater traceability across fashion supply chains. This ongoing dialogue among industry stakeholders aligns closely with the findings of the Dutch study, pointing to the systemic change needed for the future of sustainable fashion to truly thrive.

In conclusion, incorrect labeling represents a major barrier to achieving a transparent and sustainable fashion landscape. As fashion enthusiasts and brands advocate for change, it is vital to remember that sustainable fashion is not solely about using eco-friendly materials — it encompasses the entire lifecycle of a garment. Ensuring that labeling is accurate and trustworthy is essential if we are to move toward a truly ethical and sustainable industry.

Brands should take immediate action to improve the accuracy of their labeling practices. For consumers, recognizing the importance of carefully examining labels can help guide choices that genuinely reflect their values. Together, we can foster a fashion industry built on trust, transparency, and sustainability.

* Clothing labels: accurate or not?, Circle Economy for The Ministry of Infrastructure & Waterways, 2019.

** Mislabelled and Misleading – Fur labelling problems, Fur Free Alliance, 2017

Linen

Obtained from the flax plant, it is natural, biodegradable, breathable, and cool: perfect for summer.
Optimal care: delicate machine wash in cold or warm water (maximum 30°C), without harsh spin cycles; use a mild detergent; air dry preferably. Ironing while still slightly damp at a moderately high temperature reduces creases. It tends to crease; this is normal and has its own reason.

Hemp

Robust, hypoallergenic, breathable fibers that improve with every wash: from stiff to softer over time.

Eco-friendly care: Machine wash cold or delicate cycle (maximum 30-40°C), natural soap, avoid chlorinated bleaches; air dry or dry at low temperature; iron at medium temperature. It tends to shrink slightly initially and becomes more comfortable after a few washes.

Nettle

An exceptional material, highly sustainable thanks to pesticide-free cultivation and low water consumption.
Recommended care: Hand wash or delicate machine wash with water up to 30°C; air dry, away from direct sunlight; iron at low temperature; avoid intense rubbing and harsh bleaches.

TENCEL / Lyocell (from eucalyptus cellulose)

Regenerated fiber derived from cellulose, biodegradable and uses less water than traditional cotton.
Optimal care: Hand wash preferred, or machine wash on a delicate cycle with cold or warm water (maximum 30°C) and a protective bag; Avoid high temperatures to prevent shrinkage (often 3 to 5%). Dry flat or hang in the shade, without using the dryer; iron at low heat, without steam, and with a cloth between the iron and the fabric. Avoid fabric softeners.

Recycled cotton

Derived from pre- or post-consumer waste, it drastically reduces the use of water, pesticides, and soil compared to conventional cotton. It is an ethical choice, but with shorter and more delicate fibers.
Recommended care: Machine wash cold (max 30°C) on a gentle cycle with a small load; dry naturally, avoiding the dryer to avoid stressing the fibers; iron at low heat. To increase its lifespan, wash only when necessary and with gentle, eco-friendly detergents.

Organic cotton

Sustainably grown, without pesticides or GMOs, GOTS or Oeko-Tex certified, it is machine washable and versatile.
Gentle care: Wash at up to 30°C for colors (40°C for light-colored items), gentle cycle; air dry is preferable; iron at low or medium heat; wash colors separately to avoid fading. Tends to shrink slightly.

Tips:

Follow the washing instructions on your garment’s care label. Air drying is always the most eco-friendly choice: it reduces energy consumption, preserves fibers, and extends the life of your garments. In summer, ironing is often unnecessary: many natural fabrics like linen and hemp soften with use, and their worn texture is part of their sustainable appeal.

This article is from the June edition of our free monthly e-magazine. You can also receive:

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However, the recent scandal involving Loro Piana—a historic Italian cashmere brand under investigation for labor exploitation—undermines this belief.

And it’s not an isolated case. Max Mara, Dior, Armani, Valentino are among other luxury brands recently implicated in cases of poor labor conditions. It points to a deeper issue. In this article-podcast, we explore the phenomenon of luxurywashing—the construction of a “green and ethical” image that masks inconsistent practices, even in the luxury sector.

 What are the most common greenwashing tactics used by luxury brands?

• Launching capsules or limited collections (e.g., made from organic or recycled materials), while the core production remains unsustainable.

• Promoting carbon neutrality through offsetting (tree planting, carbon credits) without significantly reducing internal emissions.

• Misleading use of self-declared certifications or partnerships with “eco-like” organizations, which often cover only a tiny fraction of the supply chain. Some certifications are not independent or not applied across the full product line.

• Organizing “green” events (like carbon-neutral fashion shows) to build an image of commitment without altering overall production.

• Investing in sustainability initiatives to boost ESG (Environmental, Social, Governance) scores, while the core business model stays untouched—enhancing a green image without real change.

Data That Debunk the Myth

Antoine Arnault, son of Bernard Arnault, owner of LVMH, publicly stated that luxury goods are “sustainable by nature.” He made this statement at a fashion sustainability summit—but is it true?

A study funded by Primark and conducted by the University of Leeds in collaboration with Hubbub (2022–2024) revealed that luxury garments do not last longer than fast fashion ones. Some of the most expensive items scored from average to poor in durability tests. For instance, a men’s T-shirt priced between £36 and £45 ranked 9th out of 17 items. So price is not a reliable indicator of durability or structural quality.

The Business of Fashion Sustainability Index 2023 gave failing scores to most luxury brands due to a lack of transparency in their supply chains—especially concerning labor conditions, raw material traceability, and waste management. There’s no clear evidence that luxury brands are more sustainable than fast fashion brands. LVMH is not more sustainable than H&M or Inditex (owner of Zara, Pull&Bear, Bershka).

The point isn’t just whether materials are organic or emissions are offset. The issue runs deeper.

Luxury traditionally aligns with extrinsic values like wealth, prestige, and social status—values that speak more to “appearing” than “being.” In contrast, sustainability is rooted in intrinsic values like social justice, respect for the environment, and genuine connection with the natural world. There’s a clear tension between two worldviews: luxury as a symbol of individual success vs. sustainability as a collective commitment to the common good. According to Holmes and Bendell, luxury brands risk contradiction when they try to embrace sustainability: how can they promote moderation, justice, and balance with nature while simultaneously feeding desires tied to power, exclusivity, and privilege?

So when a luxury brand claims to be sustainable, the uncomfortable question becomes: is it really shifting paradigms, or just dressing up old values in green? The risk is that sustainability becomes a tool to reinforce the very extrinsic values it should be challenging.

Thus, luxury remains accessible to a few, while the environmental and social impact falls on the many. Sustainability gets stripped of its authentic meaning—reduced to a marketing tool to ennoble what is far from noble.

The Gap Between Image and Reality

The problem with luxurywashing isn’t just inconsistency—it’s the narrative being crafted. Evocative language, emotional campaigns, “eco” capsules or sustainable limited editions become distractions when the core production remains opaque and sometimes illegal. I remember that during the Sustainable Business Models in the Luxury Sector course, a student presented Loro Piana as an example of a sustainable brand, swayed by online sources praising its positive impact. In the past, Loro Piana was accused of building its sustainable narrative around vicuña (a luxury fiber from a camelid native to the Andes), without offering transparent data on the real socio-environmental impact or benefits returned to the Andean communities involved.

In the Loro Piana case (a brand owned by LVMH), the world’s finest cashmere was sewn by underpaid workers forced to endure exhausting shifts in unsafe environments.

Spending €2,000 on a sweater and discovering that the person who made it earns €4 per hour working up to 90 hours a week calls into question the very meaning of value.

Numerous luxury brands—including Prada, Hugo Boss, and Dolce & Gabbana—were named in a recent Clean Clothes Campaign report on labor conditions in the so-called Euro-Mediterranean textile cluster, an area that includes countries like Croatia, Moldova, and Albania.

The report highlights that in Croatia, for instance, some Hugo Boss suppliers pay wages that amount to just one-third of what would be considered a living wage. A Hugo Boss spokesperson responded by stating that the company requires suppliers to comply with national minimum wage laws. However, they also said that wage negotiations are a matter for local employers, employees, and national institutions—while expressing openness to “constructive dialogue.”

According to the report, Germany and Italy are key destinations for these garments produced in the Euro-Med cluster. It’s not just fast fashion brands like Primark and Tesco sourcing there, but also luxury labels like Versace, Dolce & Gabbana, Armani, and Max Mara.

Clean Clothes Campaign noted that none of the high-end brands mentioned responded officially to the allegations. Hugo Boss, which received an advance copy of the Stitched Up study, did not provide specific statements on its findings (source: The Guardian).

The luxury sector may appear to be outside the system of offshoring production to cut labor costs and boost profits. But behind the façade of craftsmanship, design, quality, uniqueness, and sustainability—prominently displayed in online reports—lie the same factories and the same labor conditions.

Comments on Reddit include statements like:

“”Luxury brands don’t just sell you a product, they sell you an identity. If you admit that this identity is built on exploitation, the whole system collapses.”

“What bothers me the most: if I could afford to pay a markup of several thousand dollars on a bag, I’d want to be absolutely certain that a proportional part of that money goes toward guaranteeing world-class production and labor conditions. (…) At Dior bag prices, there’s just no excuse. (…) That luxury markup should extend to every stage of the production process. (…) Another thing that bothers me: almost all handbag brands, whether luxury or mid-range, have a section on their website dedicated to sustainability initiatives and green certifications for their factories… but VERY few (and almost none among the luxury ones) provide information about ethical working conditions for people.”

The fortress of luxury—behind which brands have hidden choices increasingly similar to fast fashion—is crumbling.

New Rules on the Horizon

The good news is that things are beginning to change. The European Commission is introducing new regulations, such as those from the Green Claims Directive, which will require brands to provide verifiable evidence of their environmental and social claims. It will be harder to hide behind vague slogans or unclear certifications.

In the meantime, reports like the one from BSI (British Standards Institution) suggest that brands must restructure their entire supply chain, not just their communications, if they want to avoid a collapse of consumer trust.

What Can We Do?

As consumers, we have more power than we think. We can:

• Ask for transparency: demand that brands clearly state where and by whom a product was made.

• Rely on independent rating tools (like Good On You).

• Choose second-hand or small brands with short, traceable supply chains.

• Be wary of vague claims like “green,” “eco,” or “responsible” that lack supporting data.

What Kind of Luxury Do We Believe In?

The Loro Piana case is just the latest crack in a system built on the myth of spotless excellence. But excellence without respect for human rights and the environment is just a façade.

There are businesses trying to redefine the meaning of luxury—through slow gestures, conscious craftsmanship, and transparent supply chains. And yet, even they must navigate a system that rewards exclusivity more than justice.

So, what kind of luxury do we believe in?

Perhaps in one that doesn’t need to appear ethical—because it truly is. In the luxury of small brands. The ones that don’t shout, but whisper. Measured not in status, but in time, care, and justice. That don’t promise perfection, but at least try not to build their value on the silence of those sewing in the shadows. There’s a luxury that doesn’t need to seem ethical, because it truly is. Are we ready to recognize it, even if it doesn’t have a famous logo?