The twelfth in our article series about fashion’s pressing need for more environmentally-conscious sourcing and production methods, today’s piece asks: can a fashion company be profitable not only by incorporating upcycling but by actually making upcycling its primary business model? Cutting up old scraps and ripping open-finished seams seems like the opposite of what it means to make clothing. But there are some brands doing just that in an attempt to use up waste pieces and the global surplus of old clothing, so we thought it worthwhile to feature our favorite fashion brands that are focusing exclusively on upcycling in their sourcing. Before we start, a recap. We’ve talked about it before, when last year’s pre-Covid Fashion Weeks saw a few big names address sustainability in their fashion shows—simultaneously, upcycling is a persistently trending word in the sustainable fashion community that’s more and more making its way into mainstream consumer vernacular. The concept proudly has its own Wikipedia page, on which it stressed its key philosophy, that which makes upcycling an essential part of conservation and waste-consciousness: old products are given more value, not less. Since February marks not just another global Fashion Week Calendar but also the New York City Department of Sanitation’s third annual ReFashion Week (among other sustainable fashion counterparts), which showcases designers who focus exclusively on upcycling in their design process, let’s take a deeper dive into the question of upcycling’s actual viability as a “production” (it’s more re-production, no?) model. An attempt at combating textile excess and waste, apparel and textile upcycling entails the reuse of a discarded fabric or trim in the making of a product of higher quality or value than the original. But “higher value” is debatable when it comes to fashion: upcycled clothing is often patchworked and mismatched, a look that’s not exactly considered high quality or fashionable by the trends-following elite. And while a facemask or scrunchie made from scrap is also a form of upcycling in that the scrap is no longer considered trash, how many scrunchies will it take to save the world? And here’s a bigger problem: upcycling leftover materials is extremely hard to do en masse because leftover implies limited availability. Once scrap is gone, it’s gone—how do department store buyers place any orders in a full-size range? (Of course, this lends exclusivity to upcycled pieces that some might covet, and perhaps buyers will soon begin to value buying single, original pieces.) Finally, as if fulfilling orders wasn’t hard enough with limited materials, the upcycling of actual clothing (that isn’t just cut up and patchworked) can entail complicated knowledge of tailoring. It’s not an assembly-line stitch: the tailoring of a hugely-shouldered 1980s blazer or too-1990’s pair of denim requires individualized, specialized attention. It’s extremely difficult to rework a finished garment, especially one with embroidery, ruching. It’s also extremely difficult to make attractive and conventional clothing out of mini fabric pieces. As each piece needs to be uniquely undone, restitched, or retailored, there’s no way to produce any collection at scale, and perform as a traditional fashion model. That said, also, it is a very slow process. It could be that the raw cost of upcycling a dress from the thrift store is the same as making new clothes—that instead of sourcing fabric, designers would pay instead for the careful and laborious task of tearing apart an old garment. But this is unlikely: a finished garment often costs more than a yard of raw fabric and requires more work to un-do than it does to quickly stitch up a new t-shirt. Upcycling actually can end up costing companies more than making new things—might there be any way to change this? In conclusion, a corporate effort to thoughtfully use up what pre-exists, instead of just producing new, requires slow, arguably backward work—entirely antithetical to the current industry system. Moreover, a switch to valuing upcycling requires an entirely different consumer mindset, one which Amazon’s one-quick-click platform is not helping transpire. Keeping in mind that the only sustainable thing is to buy nothing new, here is a shortlist of brands using only old or pre-existing materials in their supply chain, refusing to exploit more resources when there’s an abundance of leftovers just waiting to be used up. They’re mostly small and indie designers using old clothes or fabric scraps in their design development, and they’re the examples that bigger companies could try to replicate: Atelier & Repairs
With a mission to eliminate the world's excess “one stitch at a time,” Lost Angeles-based Atelier & Repairs re-engineers and re-designs reclaimed garments and textiles, fostering each item’s existence at the highest value possible and for as long as possible. Patchworking and re-working jeans, jackets, sweatshirts, bags, scarves, and more, the brand has developed a cult following and retails at some of the world’s highest-end and most exclusive stores and boutiques.
BODE
Start-up menswear brand Bode was awarded runner-up in the CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund, winning praise for focusing exclusively on upcycling selectively sourced antique fabrics, victorian quilts, grain sacks, and bed linens into fashion-forward and city-appropriate apparel for stylish men. The brand also won the title of Emerging Designer of the Year, in a momentous nod to the newfound value and respectability of a designer’s use of old materials in the creation of new processes.
tonlé
Tonlé scours the remnant markets in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, where pre-consumer textile waste from large garment factories is collected and resold. At the brand’s workshop, makers and designers work together to create designs from the larger pieces of reclaimed fabric. Then, the small scraps leftover from making those garments are cut and individually sewn into yarn, which is then handwoven and knit into new pieces—a process that creates the brand’s iconic twice-recycled fabric pieces. The small amount of textile waste that remains from making tonlé garments is mixed with used paper from their office and pattern making to create a signature handmade paper. Purposeful each step of the way, tonlé is left with zero material waste.
Noorism
Indie-label Noorism patchworks old denim into exciting bags, artful sweatshirts, jackets, bottoms—and now facemasks. The designer partners closely with:
Zero Waste Daniel
With the motto “reuse. rethink. Reroll.,” niche-favorite ZWD makes exciting, patchworked pieces out of fabric scraps that otherwise have no use because they are too small.
V for Vandanas
This Columbian start-up makes limited-edition and brightly colored bandanas and other accessories from the unused premium fabrics of New York luxury designers, such as Coach and Diane von Furstenberg.
Martina Dietrich Couture
Designer Martina Dietrich creates timeless, zero-waste, one-of-a-kind couture items in fashion—all from upcycled post-consumer garments and materials. Her specialty is unique dresses designed for all occasions: day to night, work, cocktails, special events, etc. She embraces the difficult challenge of making old clothes new again, and reworks, dyes, and combines fabrics until used clothes become entirely new garments. The designer only makes made-to-order pieces, avoiding inventory and making sure her pieces are truly tailored to her individual customers.
True, we don’t know how much these small companies gross compared to Zara’s many billions, but we do know they’re winning CFDA awards and boast upwards of 238.6k followers on Instagram. (Compared to Zara’s 42.3m Instagram followers, but still. Customers are watching.) Their efforts, not easy, are noble. Be it old cloth or pre-consumer scraps, both sources of upcycling protect fabrics from landfills. We like to envision fast-fashion behemoths, with their excess inventory, attempting to mimic this waste-conscious direction.