By Lea Despotis, Design Lead

Amassing over 15 million followers on Instagram and ranking thirteenth on the list of highest traffic sites, Pretty Little Thing (PTL) flaunts the trendiest fashion finds with a gaspingly low price tag. For some, it’s a glistening goldmine-a swift and additive click away from gratifying our fetish for abundant, cheap, and to-the-minute looks. But each clothing piece carries a more costly price tag buried in fine print: “WARNING: Some products…may contain chemicals that are known to the State of California to cause cancer and birth defects or other reproductive harm.” Forced into complying with a 30-year-old California law named the Toxic Enforcement Act of 1986, PLT coughed up their ugly little secret: toxic chemicals coat their garments, with carcinogens, hormone disruptors, and agents linked to birth defects. 

Yet the disclaimer is merely courtesy of the legal system’s fight for transparency rather than a call to action. Undeterred, PLT continues to churn out millions of toxin-laden garments in a race to fill the shelves. And they are just one of a host of other fashion giants cashing in on dubious quality goods. Like PLT, the Chinese mammoth SHEIN discloses a warning tag, launching 500 new designs daily to its 7 million monthly users. The result? Fast fashion on overdrive-often riddled with compromising ambitions. 

Over the last two decades, the fashion industry felt a seismic shift, driving brick-and-mortar stores like Forever 21 to bankruptcy and rendering token favorites obsolete. Zara’s novel dictum of spending no more than 15 days from the design table to the racks has been replicated at record speed, with online vendors such as SHEIN, Fashion Nova, ASOS, and Missguided trailblazing the retail trade. Feeding off the rich pool of TikTokers, Instagram models, YouTubers, and celebrities, media platforms fuel a breeding ground for gross excess. 

With people consuming 400% more clothing than 20 years ago and disposing of them prematurely, the new paradigm of buying cheaply and wearing seldom spurs unscrutinized corporate practices. Placing people as mannequins for their wares, the broadening apparel market is blinded to the peril of its produce, with a few bad apples in the mix. 

A 2011 Greenpeace study from accredited labs worldwide was among the first to implicate retailers for racking up high levels of toxicity from hazardous chemicals in 63% of the items tested. Even high-tiered brands sport low-level ethics. Articles from Zara, Gap, Calvin Klein, Victoria’s Secret, and other respectable labels contained traces of toxic phthalates, cancer-causing amines in AZO dyes, and nonylphenol ethoxylates (NPEs) associated with reproductive harm and endocrine disruption.

The buzzwords we expect from our fabrics-wrinkle-free, stain-proof, water-resistant-often mask dangerous compounds lurking in the finishing process. Perhaps the most troubling additive that prevents stains and wrinkles graces us with a fresh clothing aroma is formaldehyde, a chemical banned in Europe but pervasive in the U.S. that is flagged as cancer-causing, according to the National Cancer Institute.  

In a mere 26 seconds, 60% of chemicals touching the skin seep into our bloodstream-a natural process called dermal absorption. As the skin works to shed impurities, synthetic materials suffocate the dermis, accelerating the absorption of a cocktail of toxins. A study published in the Environmental Health Insights journal suggests a link in dermal chemical exposure on clothing to sweeping health complications, including cancer, neurotoxicity, and liver, kidney, and lung disorders. 

Once bleached, dyed, washed, and printed, an estimated 8,000 different chemicals are wrung into the lines of fabric. Even laundering fails to purge the gnarly culprits, as scientists caution that severe health maladies like endocrine disruptions develop from toxic accumulation over time. As some of many, the widely-used carcinogens perfluorochemicals (PFCs) and flame retardants accrue in the bloodstream and manage to insidiously flow into our closets. It seems that today’s hottest styles and colors forecast tomorrow’s problems. 

To spark a clean revolution, Greenpeace spearheaded a Detox campaign and prodded major retailers to commit to a “zero discharge of all hazardous chemicals” benchmark by 2020. H&M, Zara, Nike, C&A, Benetton, Marks & Spencer, and others have sought to make amends, pioneering the way for brands to adopt more ethical forms of chemical management. 

Yet moderate success prompted a pause in the Detox campaign as of 2019-even though half of the 250 largest global brands lack a Restricted Substance List to monitor chemical usage and only about a fourth have voiced a commitment toward ridding harmful toxins out of their supply chain, according to the 2019 The Fashion Transparency Index. 

The $3 tops and $10 maxi dresses flooding today’s hyper-saturated market forebode an even heftier chemical footprint. With neither public disclosure of sourcing policies nor documented use of chemicals, the latest players in the ultra-fast fashion game leave us in the dark about the most vital step toward progress: transparency. 

Despite the airbrushed façade of its flashy webpage, SHEIN is veiled in complete mystery, without a phone number, email, press contact, or even the founder’s name accessible online. Regrettably, one can hardly expect chemical disclosure anytime soon. As global consumption reaches 62 million tons of apparel yearly and is expected to rise to 102 million tons by 2030, it’s not a stretch to say that fast fashion can deploy weapons of mass destruction if left to its own devices.

From the top down, the intricate web of the international fashion supply chain paints a murky picture, mired in cryptic practices with untraceable roots. Loose restrictions, cheap labor, and tax breaks in developing countries incentivize overseas manufacturing with minimal supervision under the auspices of big-name brands. Boxes are landing on our doorstep faster than ever, yet no one seems to demand a toxicology report. Such a notion is a radical suggestion since those at the top fail to provide ample consumer protections. 

While the pharmaceutical and food trade entrust the USDA and FDA as unifying regulators, the outdated but recently amended Toxic Substance Control Act of 1976 lacks federal enforcement. Responsibility often falls to the states, yielding inconsistencies and varying standards. To put it in perspective, the European Union bans 33 chemicals in clothing manufacturing, yet the U.S. federal government formally restricts only two: lead and phthalates in children’s items (although states like California follow a stricter threshold). From the assembly line to the runaways, toxins disperse much like fashion trends themselves-without our awareness or control.

From the environmental scourge to the devastating human toll of questionable labor practices, fast fashion tarnishes all in its grip. Although it may take years to unravel the consequences of our insatiable consumption, it is time to cleanse the spokes of a broken system before falling victim to clothing catastrophes. As two hundred corporations across multiple industries have pledged for “Net-zero emissions” by 2040, it is well overdue for apparel manufacturers to likewise forge that environmental commitment and also press for the elimination of chemicals that poison our wardrobes. Private sector accountability motivated by governmental oversight and reformed policies opens endless possibilities to better safeguard the workers, the corporations, and the consumer. As good stewards of our bodies and the planet, our purchasing power speaks volumes. Go green this season-it’s a good color on you!