The Devil Wears Recycled Polyester
It’s 2006. Miranda Priestly saunters around her office discussing cerulean blue, delivers that iconic monologue about fashion’s trickle-down effect, and demolishes Andy Sachs’ delusions of wardrobe autonomy. Fast-forward to 2025, and that cerulean sweater might boast ocean plastic fibres, blockchain provenance, and a carbon-neutral label. Progress? Sort of.
In the era of climate crisis, the fashion industry is trying to stitch together a redemption arc. The runway now comes with a carbon footprint report. Luxury labels flaunt their upcycled capsule collections. Polyester - once the poster child for fossil-fuel fashion - is reborn as “recycled polyester,” a fabric that promises salvation in a synthetic weave. But is this a genuine turning point - or just haute couture’s most convincing green screen?
Spoiler alert: recycled polyester isn’t the silver bullet.
Fashion’s Pretty Dirty Footprint
Let’s start with the facts - fashion is fabulous, but filthy. Fashion’s carbon footprint ranges between 2% and 8% of global emissions, making your wardrobe a heavier polluter than you might expect - and putting the industry on par with aviation, cement, and agriculture (McKinsey, UNECE). It also consumes an estimated 93 billion cubic metres of water annually, enough to meet the needs of five million people (Ellen MacArthur Foundation, 2017). Fast fashion churns out over 100 billion garments a year, most of which end up in landfill or incinerated within a few wears (EarthOrg).
And polyester? It’s fashion’s synthetic sweetheart. Cheap, durable, and stretch-friendly, polyester accounts for about 54% of all textile fibers produced globally (Textile Exchange, 2023). However, it’s derived from petroleum, sheds microplastics, and is essentially non-biodegradable. Enter stage left: recycled polyester, often made from post-consumer plastic bottles, and marketed as the sustainable savior of synthetic fabrics.
Recycled? Yes. Circular? Not Quite.
Recycled polyester (rPET) has become a go-to material for brands hoping to green their image without completely reworking their supply chains. It’s hailed for reducing reliance on virgin fossil fuels and giving plastic waste a second life. The numbers do support its relative eco-friendliness: according to a 2021 life cycle analysis by Textile Exchange, recycled polyester produces about 30-50% fewer emissions than virgin polyester.
Let’s not confuse “recycled” with “circular.”
Most recycled polyester comes from PET plastic bottles, not old clothes. This creates a bottle-to-shirt pathway, rather than a truly circular shirt-to-shirt system. Worse, once a PET bottle becomes a hoodie, it’s typically downcycled - destined for landfill, not reincarnation. And while you're sipping your iced matcha latte in a recycled poly trench coat, it's worth noting: we're diverting bottles from bottle-to-bottle recycling streams, where reuse rates are far higher.
Green Couture or Green Theatre?
Luxury fashion has recently joined the sustainability soiree - often with couture-level creativity and marketing budgets to match. Stella McCartney, a pioneer in sustainable high fashion, introduced mushroom leather (Mylo). Gucci launched an entirely carbon-neutral fashion show. Even Balenciaga created a jacket made from “scrap” textiles and paraded it down a runway made to look like a post-apocalyptic swamp. Symbolism? Sure. Impact? Debatable.
It’s not that these gestures don’t matter, aesthetics simply can’t be our only metric for progress. As designer Mara Hoffman once said, “We can’t design our way out of the climate crisis.” At some point, fashion’s sustainability strategy must evolve beyond glossy editorials and press releases, and toward structural transformation: degrowth, durability, rental, repair, reuse.
Because here’s the twist: the most sustainable garment is the one you already own.
Why Slow is the New Chic
While luxury brands experiment with lab-grown leathers and blockchain for traceability, the real revolution might be simpler: just. Make. Less.
Slowing down the fashion cycle - moving from 52 micro-seasons a year to a few thoughtful collections - is a climate win. If we extend the life of clothes by just 9 months, we reduce carbon, water, and waste footprints by up to 30% (WRAP, 2012). Imagine what could happen if we extended them by 5 years.
This is where the business model, not just the material, matters. Rental platforms like The Volte and peer-to-peer resale apps like Depop and Vestiaire are reshaping what ownership means. Brands embracing take-back schemes and repair programs - think Patagonia’s Worn Wear or Eileen Fisher Renew - are showing that you can build profit on longevity.
So, What Would Miranda Say?
If Miranda Priestly were real, she’d already have a carbon accounting dashboard on her iPad and be grilling her creative directors on product life cycles. A recycled polyester blouse might earn a raised eyebrow. But a full shift to regenerative cotton, garment passports, and AI-powered demand forecasting to curb overproduction? That might just draw a smirk of approval.
Because in the end, sustainability isn’t about perfection - it’s about progress. It’s about moving beyond performative pledges and into systems that don’t rely on excess. It’s about fashion that respects its makers, its materials, and the world it dresses.
So yes, perhaps the devil does wear recycled polyester. But maybe - just maybe - she curated the look from garments born of a perfectly orchestrated, transparently traced, low-impact supply chain. After all, if trends can trickle down from Paris runways to suburban racks, who’s to say sustainability can’t do the same?
The views, information, and opinions expressed in this article are solely my own and do not reflect the official policy or position of my employer, its parent companies, subsidiaries, affiliates, or any other organisation or entity with which I am associated.
Any content published here is not endorsed, reviewed, or approved by my employer. All information shared is based on my personal experience and understanding. While I strive for accuracy and currency in all content, I make no representations as to the completeness, reliability, or accuracy of this information.
