Can consumers afford ethical fashion?

Affordability Series Part 1/3 — consumer perspectives

Nov 14, 2024

I can’t speak to everyone’s personal financial circumstances, and this might be a tough read for some because unfortunately there are no simple answers. This is the longest newsletter I’ve written yet and will likely cut off in your email. Read in the app or in your browser. This week is free to all. Please support if you can.

Whenever the conversation around ethical fashion and consumer responsibility comes up, guaranteed there will be an impasse. Multiple people will mention that they can’t afford it so they have to buy ultra-fast fashion (UFF); other people will pipe up and say that thrifting is an option and generally there are bad feelings all around, with everyone justified in their own perspective.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to be writing about affordability in ethical fashion, providing tips and yes, brand recommendations.

For me, it comes down to two main questions —

Can consumers afford ethical fashion?
Can businesses make ethical fashion cheaper?

We’re going to focus on the consumer side today; next week delve into business before going into some practical stuff just before the Black Friday sale frenzy.

Growing up, I loved to thrift. I’d take a bus or train out to a more affluent neighbourhood and scour the shelves. I’d find vintage Country Road when it was still manufactured in Australia. Once I found a pure silk blazer. Another time I found a tan and black striped blazer that was the absolute perfect length for my arms (I’m 5’1 and always struggle with sleeve and trouser lengths).

I’d go into mainstream shops and look at the sale stuff. I’d very occasionally go into the more posh independent boutiques and feel shocked at the prices. One time I found an awful clingy bright orange dress without lining for 90AUD on sale, which felt expensive but cheap for ‘designer’. Luckily, I tried it on and walked away. I owned a handful of things from independent places, especially early Etsy and smaller designer outlet stores online (no, not Net-a-Porter, think much lower price point).

When ASOS became a thing, I quickly jumped onto the bandwagon. A lot of people were still buying from in-store FF but I had already gotten used to getting things online. Not really a flex, but I grew up chronically online. Finding fashion on the internet felt like a secret for a short while.

I was mixing clothes from the local mainstream shops with vintage and independent pieces, clothes from my Indian wardrobe and what I bought online including FF. I was on the way to discovering my style.

Once I moved to Melbourne in my early 20s, my life changed almost overnight. My size went up; most of my meals consisted of tinned tomatoes, rice, and beans with garlic from the local ALDI. And takeout included whatever was on the 1 dollar saver menu.

I grew up worrying about money, but this was worse because I had rent to pay and no money coming in. I had applied to hundreds of jobs. I could walk the streets and point out every store I’d applied for. After a long wait, my benefits were approved and I could make rent but money was constantly tight. I eventually found part-time work too, and it did ease things but never to the point I felt comfortable.

Yet in Melbourne, I finally had access to these huge secondhand stores thanks to a chain called Savers. Filled with long racks you could spend hours sifting through, thrifting felt like an adventure. But there was rarely anything decent in my size.

I stopped buying clothes online. Every purchase felt necessary yet frivolous and mentally exhausting.

My wardrobe consisted of disjointed pieces, some thrifted. I would re-wear the same few things so often. I owned a thick pair of pointe leggings that I got secondhand and I’d reach for them almost daily. When they finally succumbed to thigh chafing, I went through countless cheap thin versions. Fashion stopped feeling good; it felt like a thing I had to do.

I was going through really turbulent period of mental health. I was constantly anxious; I’d have nightmares and stumble over my own words. For someone who relied a lot on fashion as comfort, as armour and as self-expression, my sense of self was in shambles.

Even though I vaguely knew that FF wasn’t good for workers or the environment, I do wonder, if they were options at the time, would I have bought from places like Shein and Temu back then?

FASHION SCARCITY + MATERIAL ENVY

I know what it feels like to experience fashion scarcity.

And I know there’s people out there who are experiencing it way worse. Whether due to finances, size or disability. Finding affordable, size-inclusive or adaptive clothes has never been easy.

(Personally for adaptive wear, a lot more work needs to be done — highly recommend following wtfoffashion).

When you are consuming content online and going through your own scarcity, it’s hard to watch material abundance.

Strangely enough, it’s harder for me to watch people in sustainability spaces than the over-the-top consumption stuff. Because I don’t really want a wardrobe filled with mostly-synthetic items that I dislike wearing. I don’t want to fill my tiny kitchen with more plastic containers than I know what to do with. There’s no way I’m decanting anything into another container for aesthetics.

But custom-fitted jeans? A pure wool jumper? A dark chocolate leather jacket that you thrifted for less than 10 bucks? …In a house that’s beautifully decorated and that you actually own? That can be tough.

It’s hard to hear the message about buying from ethical and sustainable spaces when people are actively showing you their material abundance and you feel like you’re struggling. Especially when it’s from someone who is thinner or able-bodied or has more money and a different level of access to you.

Social media means you are comparing yourself to a larger group of peers, many of whom might be in an entirely different economic bracket.

Our sense of enough-ness becomes skewed.

There’s times when I’ve been following an influencer and I have to mute them, because seeing them pull out so many amazing pieces that were potentially gifted makes me feel like I’ll never reach that level of abundance. It’s seeing an influx of this type of content day in, day out.

And I don’t think it’s creators’ responsibility either. Should everyone self-censor their content just in case someone else might feel envious? Can you imagine every fashion post having an obligatory ‘acknowledging my privilege’ disclaimer? That seems like a recipe for disaster. Fashion SHOULD be joyful. Fashion SHOULD be about sharing, especially from sustainable and ethical brands.

This material envy is often rooted in a justified anger at deeper things that have nothing to do with other creators — it’s based on a lack of income, health and housing inequality. And the lack of enough disposable income to support business within our values.

I’m often reminded of this note by Michelle Teheux.

WELLNESS CULTURE + CLASSISM + ANTI-FAT BAIS IN SUSTAINABLE AND DESIGNER FASHION

Sustainable and ethical fashion often gets lumped with luxury fashion, i.e. clothes for the rich.

The link between sustainable fashion and wellness is covert. It feels very much like the idea of quiet luxury. People promote certain health behaviours. No one acknowledges wealth or invisible privilege. Constant food talk and seeing life through the individualistic view of health. Focus on materials rather than labour so things can be seen as more ‘pure’. It’s no wonder that GOOP now has a clothing line, has zero information about their ethics, and yet leading sustainability advocacy organisations online follow them.

People automatically assume that ‘certain’ behaviours and patterns of consumption represent SUSTAINABILITY AS A BRAND.

But sustainability as a brand filtered through white feminism and sustainability in action are two very different things. One focuses on only consumerism and what rich people buy, and the other is a sum of our collective actions and ability to care for our communities and beyond.

Then you have places where the internet fashion people shop, like ssense. It’s a double whammy if you’re fat and not-rich because they purposefully do not include fat models. Their very thin one-body type only carousel of models is a loud exclusionary tactic to say no fatties allowed. Of course, some items do go up to a US14 or EU46 but it’s hard to find them and no way in hell will you see the item on a person of that size. Some of these designer brands are ethical; others are not transparent about their manufacturing. On platforms like these, it’s not uncommon for items to run for thousands of dollars.

When you start to see fashion in this binary, either really expensive stuff for the very rich or FF, it can almost feel like a fuck you to the exclusionary elitist fashion spaces to participate via buying FF. There’s real anger about economic divisions.

But that binary is false; it’s not either/or, and there’s a lot in between. And if a brand is truly ethical, it aims to uplift workers, and that's far from elitist.

WHO’S LIFESTYLE ARE YOU TRYING TO RECREATE? SCARCITY ENVY AND COSPLAYING CLASS

FF has become a stand-in for class solidarity. Yet not everyone who participates in FF fashion is necessarily poor.

There’s shame attached to being rich and the idea that all money must be made via exploitation. There’s shame attached to being poor. I’m in no way saying these two groups are equally stigmatised. Sometimes people find it easier to pretend they're working class or just omit talking about their finances or say things like “I’m so broke” when they’re really, really not.

I’m better off financially than when I was on benefits back in Melbourne. I’m not rich; I’m not poor either. A couple of months without my partner’s income and we’d be in a precarious situation. I haven’t been back to Australia for 6 years (and counting) because the flights are too expensive. I haven’t been able to save up to go back to University to do my Masters. I have mountains of student and credit card debt.

And although I do buy things impulsively, I don’t do hauls, and I’ve never bought from ultra-fast fashion (UFF). In Japan, where wages are lower, we’re clearly middle-class. If we were living in the US or Australia, with the higher rentals, medical expenses and dual-income households being a necessity, I don’t think we’d come close.

People often pretend they can't afford ethical fashion because they want to be more relatable online.

And since FF has infiltrated so much of our consumerist experience, it’s become a way that a lot of people relate to each other. Instead of calories and diet talk, we talk about how cheap we were able to buy something. Don’t get me wrong, capitalising on sales and deals is not a bad strategy, but there’s a reason why ultra-fast fashion is so cheap.

I’ll never forget a small fat influencer who partnered with an UFF brand (then faced scrutiny). Straight after, they flew to Italy and did a bunch of shopping at designer stores. They used their influencer status to not only partner with an exploitative brand, but their entire internet persona was doing fast fashion hauls so they could pretend they were ‘just like their followers’ when obviously they could afford to buy better, to support business with better ethical practices.

FF is built through exploiting gendered and racialised labour. FF itself is elitist when we talk about class on a global scale because it puts profits and greed over people's livelihoods and the environment.

Ethical brands are usually the complete opposite; they are often smaller brands that have one person or a small team working their asses off to make it possible or take care when choosing where to manufacture overseas.

Yet luxury brands or high fashion never get the same level of scrutiny as smaller ethical designers. I think it’s because people already expect high fashion to cost a lot.

Creators in the ethical fashion space who are outspoken about social justice and are conscious about how they price are at the receiving end of anger than brands that purposefully limit their target base to white, thin, rich people.

To have a labour-centred brand, one that values its makers and doesn’t aim to exploit in order to make massive profits, means that items cost more. Not at the same level as high fashion or designer fashion, but yes, more.

SKEWED PRICE EXPECTATIONS + FASHION MYTH-MAKING

How come people are willing to pay higher prices for clothes from places like Marks & Spencer, Anthropologie, or even Zara? Even though ethical fashion can rarely compete with UFF, it can definitely compete with FF or major retailers like the ones I’ve mentioned. Do people think that these brands are ethical because they cost more?

With 100% polyester dresses that cost a couple of hundred dollars, why wouldn’t you buy from an alternative that’s transparent about their manufacturing?

Is it the fashion myth-making that attaches certain identities to certain brands, like you’re automatically more fashionable if you buy from said brands?

For so long, sustainable fashion has been attached to beige and linen that people don’t see it as desirable in the same way when it comes to identity. Sustainable and ethical fashion shouldn’t be constrained to an aesthetic, it’s the way something is manufactured, the materials considered, and how workers treated.

FF and UFF have completely skewed both our quality and price expectations. When you volume shop, it doesn’t matter if a few things are terrible quality as long as most of it is ‘good enough’.

Tops from ultra fashion retailer Shein start at only a couple of dollars (how the fuck are workers meant to be paid fairly at that rate?). Having that in your mind as a comparative baseline makes it (almost) impossible to get used to paying anywhere from 50 to 150USD for a top, which is the price range that most ethical brands fall into.

WHO IS BUYING ULTRA FAST FASHION?

It’s really hard to know who FF and UFF consumers are. It’s easy to assume and conflate that most people who consume FF, especially UFF, must be poor. Although we don’t have loads of data, a study by UBS securities showed that the average Shein consumer spent 100USD on clothing per month, 60% more than the average US woman. However, the sample was small and there haven’t been replicated studies.

Aside from the obvious haul videos—some of which are based on gifted products or sometimes people will volume order then return lots, there are many different people who buy from UFF. Some might be putting their purchases on credit.

I’ve scoured Reddit threads, and I’ve seen so many different types of responses.

People who’ve spent thousands on FF. People who are struggling with addiction (likely fuelled by the gamification of shopping apps). People who use consuming stuff as a way to combat anxiety and loneliness. People who are looking to replace their entire wardrobe with UFF because they simply can. Maybe it’s body image-related pressure or feeling like their wardrobe isn’t good enough in professional spaces. Or weight changes. People who have convinced themselves that this is the only way, either the stuff from ethical brands or FF and there’s no in-between. There’s a lot of doom-ism and compassion fatigue too, and people don’t feel they can care about yet another thing.

Maybe it is because of middle-class abundance and people having burgeoning wardrobes but struggling to decide what to wear. It feels easier to just buy new stuff. Or following fashion influencers and feeling confused about their style because they are constantly exposed to different style messaging. Maybe our sense of enough-ness has changed and we truly don’t know how many clothes we need. Hyper individualism and the desirability ladder pitting us against each other, needing people to perform fashion in order to compete. A lack of work opportunities and more people feeling like influencer work could be the escape they’re looking for and buying FF is the cheapest way to build that online fashion capital and credibility.

Affordability is relative. Some people will say that ethical fashion is unaffordable but are happy to pay whatever it takes to get their hands on a Stanley cup. Or spend almost 100 bucks or more on a manicure. Or a Taylor Swift ticket for over 1000USD. This isn’t to say that our local manicurists don’t deserve every cent, but why aren’t clothes worth just as much investment?

FF isn't the saviour people purport it to be. FF doesn’t care about body liberation; it's built on exploitative practices. It's there to keep you addicted. It's not there to save you money. And all the ways it forces you to overconsume, you end up spending more than you intended, again and again.

Therein lies a dissolution of trust. Some people are not honest about their privileges or finances and use poor people as an excuse to defend their own overconsumption. How much can you spend on UFF, before you can no longer say it’s the only thing you can afford? Is there a limit?

Some consumers might genuinely be in a financial pinch or low income and need a way to bridge the gap in the wardrobe. Maybe it’s to replace a well-worn basic, to buy something for work or to prepare for the cold weather.

I’m also not implying that poor people have to be the ‘perfect’ consumers. I’ve absolutely fucked up and made unnecessary purchases when I’ve been low on money. If you’re constantly paying the cognitive tax to make the ‘right’ financial decision, at some point, you mess up.

How can we criticise FF without inadvertently making poor people feel ashamed? How about those using poor people as a way to defend their consumption when they can afford to do better? How about those who are not-poor but still really don't want to spend too much money on clothes?

IT’S ALL THE SAME ANYWAY, RIGHT? MAJORITY VS. FAST VS. ULTRA FAST FASHION

I notice a lot of people lump all fashion companies into one. And although I’d agree that UFF practices have transformed the industry, there are differences.

FF, like ASOS and H&M, at least pretend that they are working towards goals like living wages or more sustainable materials.

Even though overproduction is built into their models so they can never truly be sustainable or ethical, they do not produce at the same level as UFF like Shein or Temu. Back in 2021, Shein added over 7000 items to its site daily. A graph by Business of Fashion (BoF) compares how many styles were added in the US in 2022 (year to date—until April); H&M added 4414, Zara 6849, BooHoo considerably more at 18,343, and Shein at a whopping 314,877. That is a significant difference. According to McKinsey, this is now increased to 10,000 new designs each day in 2023.

And how does it all work? Shein has been accused again and again of stealing designs from independent designers. Most of the time, they just copy-paste images from the original websites. Shein has also been accused of child labour and labour violations, including excessive overtime. That report was back in 2021; in 2024, surprise, surprise, they’re doing the same thing.

But what about majority fashion — by this, I mean most other stores. Clothing quality amongst FF and high street shops has declined. There’s a higher level of synthetics like elastane to mimic a good fit and similar to UFF and FF, they are often not transparent about their supply chain and where they produce, let alone how workers are treated. According to the Ethical Trading Initiative, their members, which include both FF and majority fashion retailers like M&S, are required to report their Tier 1 suppliers in 2025. I am highly curious which companies will adhere to this requirement.

I don’t agree that all these retailers are the same, certainly not when it comes to the level of production or waste. And despite the decline, I think quality-wise, especially when it comes to a higher percentage of natural materials, you'll have better luck on the high street and through mainstream retailers.

BUYING FROM ETHICAL BRANDS IS NOT ALWAYS EASY

If you can find what you’re after second-hand that is amazing. But buying from ethical brands has a different outcome. It’s difficult to support a labour-centred size inclusive fashion future only via secondhand garments. And an overwhelming amount of it is already UFF.

I research brands for my newsletter all the time and I will be the first to admit that buying ethically can be a pain in the ass. I’ll tell you why.

A lack of transparency even from smaller brands. The sheer amount of times I’ve been ghosted by a business when I’ve asked about their manufacturing. Or when brand owners have almost zero connection to their makers. Although small business is never going to have the same level of impact as FF, it’s frustrating when these businesses that often centre identity (i.e. woman-owned, etc) don’t seem to care about ethics.
It’s not convenient. Especially when you compare it to how fashion consumption has been normalised via entering whatever you want into a search bar. Each brand has a small collection, so if you are looking for an item, you need to do the rounds and see if you can find something that matches.
Expensive return policies, sometimes non-existent exchange policies. This is probably my third or fourth time I’ve mentioned when I bought from Universal Standard, I got the wrong size and they quoted me almost 60 bucks to return it by courier. I’m now sitting on another order (different brand) where I very carefully measured myself and still have to return two out of the four items. So I paid for international postage and now have to pay for a return (for a faulty product), and yes, it’s financially a pain in the ass.
Paying more for items feels scary, especially if you’re new to sustainable and ethical fashion. It’s difficult to take the leap and potentially end up with clothing that doesn’t fit properly.

But wait, what’s the point of it then?

With independent designers that are usually the brand founders, the designs can feel really exciting
More effort into pattern construction and fit testing
Options for custom adjustments, a relational way of buying but without the high fashion price tag
When you get the perfect fit, it truly is AMAZING
The difference in quality and materials. Wearing a light layer of quality cotton vs. poly-cotton or even woven polyester in the middle of summer makes a world of difference.
You feel like you’re supporting a business that does right by its workers and the planet and are supporting an alternative fashion future
You have the opportunity to support truly size-inclusive brands (no FF brand is size-inclusive).
Paying fairly for work isn’t charity; this should be a standard across the industry
Even though I'm risk-averse, most things fit well the first time and continue to last after plenty of wear

THE PROBLEM WITH PUSHING FOR MORAL PERFECTION

Of course, in an ideal world we’d all be able to afford to support ethical brands. But that’s simply not true to our current reality. Especially as markets fluctuate and utilities and groceries cost more, those of us who have been struggling are likely to continue to do so.

There is no such thing as moral purity and it’s unfair that people who might have more disposable income can come off as seemingly more moral because they can simply afford to shop from ethical business.

It often feels like a lose-lose situation for those without as much disposable income. I’ve certainly felt material envy, seeing other creators wear and style clothes I felt that I could not afford. There is a lot of scarcity in secondhand spaces too, especially in plus sizes.

There is no such thing as moral perfection in our world, especially if you live in the global North. Often our abundance is through someone else’s exploitation. But as I’ve been saying for some time, we can still mitigate our harm within our means and capacity.

It means investing time and energy into looking for alternatives. It means really being honest with ourselves — challenging our financial narratives, our financial shame points. If you’ve experienced financial scarcity but are relatively stable now, you might still struggle with making big purchases. I still worry about money and find it hard to invest in pieces, and I run a goddamn ethical fashion newsletter.

It means buying the best that we can afford.

This might mean from high street or mainstream stores, or yes, FF. What happens if you’re facing a cold winter without underlayers and struggle to find a non-acrylic sweater in secondhand stores in your size and can’t afford a coat? If you knew that investing in a cashmere or merino sweater from somewhere like Uniqlo would help you see it through? What happens if you have a job interview last minute and don’t have the right attire but haven’t got the savings to invest in an outfit? But you know you’d probably find something ‘good enough’ in a FF store in person.

All of us have a FF past. It’s easy to judge when you have time and energy to look for sustainable and ethical alternatives. Just because you’ve participated in FF before or made a one-off purchase because it felt necessary doesn’t mean you can’t advocate for ethical fashion. Some people would disagree, but I think it’s this exclusionary “all or nothing” mindset that hinders change.

ACTION OUTSIDE OF CONSUMERISM + ENVISIONING A NEW FASHION FUTURE

Not all FF consumers are poor, and chances are more people can afford to change the way they consume. That obviously doesn’t mean that everyone can afford to buy from ethical brands. But it doesn’t exclude people from advocating for ethical fashion, including industry change. What happens if consumers spent less time defending unethical exploitative corporations and more time looking at ways that could improve the fashion industry?

We need worker solidarity, we need unions, a more cohesive fight towards fairer government, decent work, fair wages, access to basic income, equitable healthcare, and housing. We’re missing honesty, trust, and community.

Action shouldn’t be limited to just buying from ethical businesses. Can you do a wardrobe inventory and be honest with yourself about how much you truly own? Pick up some simple mending skills? Can you slow down your consumption? Can you be honest with how much you spend on fashion and whether that could be a potential budget for ethical business? Can you look for secondhand alternatives? If you buy from FF, are there ways that you are promoting them that are unnecessary? Could you support policy reform? If you are in the EU, you could sign up to keep up to date on the next campaign for the European Citizen’s Initiative. Or attend a workshop run by the Asia Floor Alliance. Not every action costs money. Not every action should cost money.

Did you quit fast fashion? Did you slow down fast fashion? What drove the change?

Next week we’re going to look at ethical fashion from a business perspective and see if brands can make their clothes cheaper.