Beyond the Buzzwords

My experience kicked off a day early with the Accelerating Circularity Playbook workshop hosted on the 22nd, which turned out to be a real highlight. I was fortunate to be part of a group that included a brand, a recycler, and an academic representative, making for a rich exchange of insights. Together, we aimed to design a pilot for textile-to-textile recycling, a challenging endeavor. With only 90 minutes, it became evident how many obstacles exist within the textile value chain, notably the lack of infrastructure for proper collection and sorting. As a result, our pilot shifted toward a more straightforward model that formed a direct link between the brand and recycler via take-back schemes or supplier waste collection near recycling facilities. Our objective was to produce materials that meet the brand’s quality standards.

Our discussions highlighted how even after streamlining the supply chain within this pilot, ensuring success remains challenging. One key takeaway was that creating a blueprint for a replicable system isn’t just about technical and economic feasibility; it must also be environmentally viable, which is incredibly difficult at this stage. For example, while a recycling plant using clean energy grid in Europe may perform well, placing that plant in proximity to supply chains in Asia often compromises environmental benefits. Another significant point raised was the level of financing required to scale recycling initiatives. While we fully understand the high cost, we need concrete estimates. Action won’t happen if we merely point out the expense; clear, actionable plans are essential for investment.

A fascinating conversation with a friend at the conference got me thinking about the true extent of textile recycling. We often hear about recycling as a solution to our massive waste problem, and it just might be. We have about 92 million tonnes of textile waste landfilled every year to address.

But while recycling is a critical step forward, we need to consider just how much of this waste can actually be recycled.

This calculation isn’t straightforward, and I may be way off here, but I’d love to hear more perspectives. Only a handful of textile-to-textile recyclers currently exist, and each has specific technical capacities for the type of feedstock they can use. Given the complexity and poor design of most textiles being produced today, only a fraction of the 92 million tonnes may actually be suitable feedstock for these recyclers. My best guess? Around 20% might be viable as of today, and I truly hope future advancements will take this further.

While some recyclers claim to handle highly mixed outputs, the reality of processing complex feedstocks often yields less output than anticipated, which challenges the environmental viability of recycling them. Even with robust collection and sorting infrastructure, not everything can (or should) go directly into recycling. Reuse, resale and, repurpose, for instance, could be feasible for about 50% of the waste currently generated. Based on these estimates, we’re left with around 9.2 million tonnes of waste that could reasonably go through the recycling process.

Scaling up is essential, but there is a clear possibility that we might reach a limit unless production shifts toward designs that are more recycling-friendly.

Here’s a thought experiment I’d encourage stakeholders, especially brands, to try: work with your recycler to understand their feedstock capabilities, then take a look at your own product portfolio. Ask yourselves: how much of what we produce today could become suitable feedstock tomorrow? Chances are, the answer may be surprisingly low. But once the initial shock wears off, it’s time to rethink our approach. Having recycled content standards is vital, but without designing products to be recyclable themselves, we risk taking more recycled fibers out of the loop than we’re putting back in. If your portfolio is only 10% recyclable, maybe your recycled content target should also reflect that reality.

The next highlight for me was the panel on "Where Chemistry and Carbon Connect." It offered amazing insights, dispelling several misconceptions about the fashion and textile industry’s environmental impact. Contrary to the commonly cited figure of 8-10%, this industry actually contributes around 2-3% of total emissions. Still, even at 2%, the industry has significant strides to make.

One of the key points raised was that the wet processing phase alone accounts for roughly 42% of this impact, underscoring the critical need for improvements in this area. While much attention has been on material selection, which only contributes about 10-12% of the total impact in the value chain, it’s clear that simply choosing better materials won’t suffice. What truly matters is how we process these materials, which is where the industry must focus its efforts.

Three primary action points from the panel stood out to me. First, there is an urgent need to reduce inefficiencies and losses throughout the supply chain. Second, adopting incremental innovations that the supply chain can support without disruption is essential. Finally, shifting to a more sustainable energy supply will be crucial.

One interesting metric discussed was the material-to-liquor ratio for processing applications, which has improved significantly from an average of 1:25 or 1:30 down to 1:8 or 1:10. This is already a remarkable achievement, but new machinery from large manufacturers like Theis or Fong's can bring this down further to 1:3 or 1:4, reducing the footprint by nearly 50%. Since heating and boiling water is a major contributor to the carbon footprint, the less water used in machinery, the better.

The session also explored the importance of using better chemistry. While novel chemistry is often perceived as expensive, the panel effectively broke down this misconception. For example, if a chemical enables lower water usage, even at a higher purchase price, the total cost could still be comparable to traditional chemistry. In applications measured in grams per liter, a lower water volume reduces the amount of chemistry required. Thus, while the upfront cost of the chemical may be higher, the actual quantity needed decreases proportionally.

We need to shift our costing perspective from simple purchase price to a more holistic, usage-based calculation.

Another key area gaining traction in the industry is durability. On the surface, it seems absolutely logical: if products are made to last longer, people will keep them for longer, and waste will decrease. But does increased durability actually address the root of the problem?

The idea behind pushing for durability is that consumers will hold on to garments longer before discarding them. However, when we look at consumer behavior, things become more complicated. Some studies show that, on average, garments are discarded after fewer than 20 wears, and in some cases, fewer than 10. This raises an important question: Are products genuinely wearing out after only a few uses, or is something else driving this pattern?

The first response is often to blame "cheap" products as less durable and quicker to become waste. But a study by the University of Leeds on price vs. durability challenged this assumption. Their data showed no strong correlation between cost and durability, meaning expensive items can be just as short-lived as cheaper ones, and budget-friendly items sometimes exceed expectations in durability. With this out of the way, we’re left with a more complex question: If product quality isn’t always the main factor, why are consumers discarding clothing so quickly?

This brings us to a critical realization. Perhaps the rapid turnover isn’t just about durability but rather factors like aesthetics, fit, or even just the desire for something new. It’s time to ask: if we keep pushing for higher durability standards beyond what’s already acceptable (which, in my experience, is more than sufficient; some of my cheapest items have lasted years), will it actually reduce the number of garments discarded after only a few uses?

There’s an urgent need for deeper research here. Focusing solely on physical durability may not yield the impact we hope for if consumer habits are driven more by perception, style, or other factors unrelated to how well an item holds up.

Coming back to the interesting study by the University of Leeds, a brand developed a new durability framework based on this research. On the surface, this seemed like a great step forward: creating a framework rooted in solid scientific work that carefully tests durability across multiple factors. But, as always, the impact lies not only in what we know but in how we apply it.

This framework, while grounded in the original study, included some intriguing adjustments that were easy to overlook and that even many in the industry didn’t catch. It was pointed out during the session that, while this new framework appeared to follow the same testing parameters, the difference was hidden in the wording. Typically, durability tests involve multiple wash and dry cycles, which simulates regular wear (since, after all, most of us wear dry clothes!). But in developing this framework, one subtle change was introduced: where the original study conducted 5, 10, 15, 30, and 50 wash-and-dry cycles, the new framework read: “After x washes, the garment is dried, assessed, and measured.”

This single adjustment, where garments go through one prolonged wash followed by drying only once, alters the results. Here’s why it matters: for many materials, particularly cellulosic fibers, repeated swelling in water and subsequent drying affects durability. Under the original study’s method, the fibers would swell and contract repeatedly, simulating actual usage. With this framework, however, that cycle of wear happens only once, making garments appear more durable than they would be under normal wear.

It’s a clear reminder that while frameworks like these are valuable, we have to read the fine print and understand the real-world implications before drawing conclusions. It’s one thing to have scientific research as a foundation, but how we apply it in real-world contexts is where the real difference is made.

P.S. I’ve loved diving into these insights, but let’s face it, no one’s got time for a novel! I’ll save topics like biodiversity, legislation, novel materials, and impact assessment for part two. If this sparked any ideas (or laughs), feel free to share and keep the conversation rolling. Who knows? Your input might just be the next big thing in sustainability!

Disclaimer: All views and opinions expressed on this profile, or in any posts, are purely my own and do not represent the opinions or positions of my employer.