Fast fashion: Ireland has a textile waste problem — and your charity bag won’t fix it

by · TheJournal.ie

WE ARE NOW firmly into the phase of spring wardrobe clear‑outs all over the internet, and new spring–summer “collections” flooding our feeds.

Although clearing out what we don’t wear isn’t the issue, there is now a pressure to clear out every year, or multiple times a year, to make space for new clothing, as if that cycle was normal.

Don’t get me wrong, donating clothing is still one of the best ways to keep garments in use, especially going to charity shops that support local reuse AND fund great causes. But donations have more often than not become an easy exit ramp for overconsumption.

As a policy officer and project manager on textile waste, I hear it from all stakeholders: public servants telling me how local clothing banks are overflowing and illegal dumping is ramping up, charity shop workers contacting us to know if we know of any way to deal with unsold items, and campaigners from abroad telling the story of how imported “second-hand” clothes end up burned or landfilled in their communities.

To me, there is no doubt that we’re facing a textile waste crisis, and one of the reasons might be that it has become incredibly easy to discard clothing and forget about it.

Chattogram, Bangladesh - 25 November 2025: Aerial view of Anondobazar Landfill's stark landscape where clothing is dumped. Alamy Stock PhotoAlamy Stock Photo

Many of us assume it will be reused, or recycled, or magically find a second life with someone who “needs it.” Yet, just as plastic recycling reaches only around 30% actual recycling rates, textile recycling into new textiles is even worse: it’s only about 1%.

Clothes are complex blends of fibres, and recycling technologies remain limited. Meanwhile, we have enough clothing to clothe the next six generations, which makes it seem unlikely that all can be reused.

Where do the clothes end up?

Charity shops generally resell about half of what they receive, and that’s the best‑case scenario, because they are transparent about it and operate locally.

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Most discarded clothing, however, never goes through charity shops. Although we often associate all unwanted clothing collection with charities’ work, the majority of clothing collection banks are actually operated privately.

And these companies don’t have magical recycling solutions either. Their business model depends almost entirely on exporting collected textiles abroad, often with very limited oversight.

Clothing banks. Alamy Stock PhotoAlamy Stock Photo

In a new project with VOICE Ireland, we investigated where Irish clothing really goes. Over ten months, we tracked 38 donated items using hidden electronic trackers placed in clothing dropped across collection points nationwide. Of the 23 items that delivered usable data, the findings were stark:

  • Ireland overly relies on exports, with 95% of items being exported outside of the country and 60% outside the EU.
  • Unclear fates are prominent, with 52% of items ending up in odd places, often languishing in overseas warehouses, making their final fate impossible to confirm.

The low confirmed reuse rate of 30% and the suggestion that at least two items were dumped in the Global South are raising the alarm: we need to take action for transparency and take responsibility for our unwanted clothes.

The fashion industry drives trends, and seasons and prompts clear outs. Alamy Stock PhotoAlamy Stock Photo

But transparency alone won’t solve the problem. We’re facing a fundamental and sector-wide issue built on overproduction and overconsumption. It is not down to one actor or a single section of the supply chain to “fix” it.

Ireland has a significant overconsumption issue, especially when it comes to fashion. Irish residents buy 53 kg1 of textiles per person every year, more than double the European average of 19kg2. At the same time, the amount of clothing we own has surged by about 60%3, while the share of our income spent on it has fallen from 6% to 4%4.

All of this demonstrates that clothes have become cheaper, faster and less valued. We also keep garments for half as long as previous generations, proving we treat clothing as disposable.

Any sign of hope?

And yet, we’re not better off than the previous generation because we own more clothing. If anything, fast fashion has trapped us in a vicious circle of keeping up with trends, normalising impulsive shopping as a coping mechanism, leaving many of us with guilt and cognitive dissonance.

Beyond its impact on our mental health, it also affects our physical health. Tests carried out on items bought from major online platforms have revealed dangerous levels of PFAS and other regulated chemicals, far above European safety thresholds. All of this is exactly why we need to regulate the volume and quality of what is allowed onto the market. Self‑regulation simply can’t compete with an open market that hides its true costs on us, and on the planet. What we can do is advocate for our own safety, and arguably, our own sanity.

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Apps like Depop and Vinted have really taken off for circulating clothing. Alamy Stock PhotoAlamy Stock Photo

One would argue that circular initiatives are gaining traction across Ireland, which is true and encouraging: swap events, repair workshops, upcycling collectives, and the growing popularity of platforms like Vinted and Depop. However, the challenge remains. These new forms of engagement haven’t really shifted our overall behaviours. In fact, many fast‑fashion habits are simply migrating into new spaces.

Take Vinted. In 2025, Vinted became the number‑one fashion marketplace in France, surpassing traditional fashion e‑commerce in user traffic and listings. This shows a real appetite for second-hand and resale, yet it also reveals its limits: resale often operates alongside compulsive purchasing and mass reselling. People increasingly sell their “good stuff” and donate only the lowest‑quality pieces.

Additionally, the rise of resale platforms has not slowed the expansion of ultra‑fast fashion: Shein opened a physical outlet in Paris’s historic Printemps Haussmann department store, symbolic of how deeply fast fashion has embedded itself in mainstream retail, and the company plans additional openings across France in 2026.

Circular habits may be gaining ground, but the fast‑fashion machine continues to grow in parallel. And that leaves us with the real question: what will finally tip the balance? We can rightfully blame clothing banks for exporting waste, and we absolutely need to regulate their activities. But accountability cannot begin at the point of disposal. It has to start long before a garment ever reaches a bring bank or a donation bin.

Ireland needs to consciously phase out fast fashion: not by counting only on personal choices, but through policy. Real accountability would mean implementing measures that tackle fast fashion business models directly: regulate volumes, composition, design and responsibility for the end of life. It’s not about controlling what people wear but rather ensuring that the price tag reflects the impact of the garment upstream AND downstream.

In the meantime, the most powerful thing we can do is slowly rewire our habits and our relationship with fashion. It’s a journey, and it took me five years to feel free from the fast‑fashion cycle, so don’t expect it to click overnight.

Start small. Unfollow fast‑fashion newsletters, mute the social accounts that push constant trends, and pick three or four shops you’re ready to step away from for good. You can expand with time as you discover better alternatives. Choose one category you want to improve on, whether it’s jeans, shirts, or shoes and take the time to research better‑quality, more sustainable options before you buy.

But the most transformative shift about engaging with fashion in ways that don’t involve buying at all: learning a new skill, repairing something you love, swapping with friends, or trying your hand at upcycling. Once we stop thinking of ourselves only as consumers, we rediscover community spaces and enjoyment, and that’s where systemic change can happen.

Solene Schirrer is project manager at VOICE Ireland, focusing on textile waste reduction and prevention. Her work has led her to explore Ireland’s post-consumer textile waste and participate to national and European advocacy work to support the circular economy.

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