Many of today’s shoppers fear something that lurks in their closets.
It may have great structure, but it’s a bit stiff. It may look good from afar, but on the body it can be scratchy, sweaty and plasticky. Asleep at night, some worry it’s actually going to harm them.
It’s — gasp! — synthetic fabric.
Nylon, acrylic and spandex have been around for the better part of a century. They made ironing easier (or obviated the need for it completely). They are pretty durable, too, helping garments hold their shape. They keep moths at bay. They are machine washable. They’re the sorts of materials that made possible Issey Miyake’s famous pleats and Lululemon leggings.
But lately, anxious about quality, mindful of fashion’s climate impact and, in some cases, worried about the health effects (well founded or not), many are swearing off these synthetic fibers. “Polyester” has even become a bit of Gen Alpha slang to mock people deemed to be inferior.
For some, it’s partly a matter of taste. At a time when some fast-fashion retailers add thousands of items to their sites each day — most of them made from synthetic fibers to keep down costs — avoiding these materials has become a status symbol.
“You’re wearing plastic,” said Sarah Marie Day, 32, who is based in New York and writes the fashion newsletter In Her Element. “That’s not luxurious.”
Kate Glavan, the host of Seamossgirlies, a Gen Z wellness podcast, said being able to buy something made of natural fibers “says something about you”: Not just that you have the money to afford fabrics like cotton, wool or cashmere, but that you are discerning enough to know the difference.
The skepticism surrounding polyester and other synthetic fibers goes back to the 1970s and 1980s, when people started to associate it with cheaply made, lowbrow goods.
This more recent revolt, however, stems largely from wellness culture, which after creeping into widespread thinking about food, fitness and skin care, has changed the way some think about clothes, too.
The main concern is about exposure to microplastics — tiny particles of plastic that scientists have found in human bodies that can shed from clothing made from synthetic fabrics as the clothing fibers move and as they are washed.
Preliminary research into microplastics has shown links between the materials and conditions like cardiovascular disease.
Some research suggests that the primary way humans absorb microplastics is through the ingestion of food and drink, though scientists have not yet established whether and how microplastics can be absorbed through the skin.
“There’s no real straight line in science,” said Tracey Woodruff, a professor of epidemiology and population health at Stanford University, who added that researchers have not yet found a direct causal relationship between microplastics and illness.
Regardless, the anti-synthetics message has been embraced by wellness influencers, fashion content creators, brands and activists who belong to the Make America Healthy Again Movement.
Lane Koch, 40, a political consultant based in St. Louis who identifies as a “MAHA mom” and worked on Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s presidential campaign, said she recently purged synthetic fabrics from her family’s home, worried about their exposure to microplastics. She’s urging the government to take action.
In May, the United States Department of Agriculture announced its plan to revitalize the American cotton farming sector. The move arose in part from concerns over “petroleum-based plastics that can shed microplastics into our soil, water, and bodies,” Secretary Brooke Rollins said in a statement.
The cause has been taken up by state governments, too. This spring, Attorney General Ken Paxton of Texas called for an investigation into the athletic apparel brand Lululemon to determine whether the company has misled consumers about the “health impacts of its products.” The effort further ingratiated him with MAHA activists, as he faces a contentious Senate race against James Talarico in November’s midterm elections.
It also earned him kudos with Alex Clark, the host of “Culture Apothecary,” a Turning Point U.S.A. podcast. Reflecting on his broader track record on MAHA issues, she told the Washington Examiner in May that electing Paxton, “who is full-blown MAHA,” as senator is “going to be one of the best power moves that we could possibly get.”
Brands generally try to stay away from politics. But many are parlaying the broader wellness concern over “toxic” clothing into a savvy bit of advertising.
Nero, an active wear label geared toward men, claims its line is free of microplastics, and is inspired by clothing once worn by “emperors, athletes, and craftsmen.” EDN, an intimates brand, similarly advertises its products, which are made from natural fibers, as free from “toxins” and says they function as “wellness wear.”
Mate the Label, a women’s wear brand that sells cotton T-shirts and sweatpants, markets itself as “clean.” The brand runs a clothing recycling initiative that helps shoppers “detox” their closets by discarding unwanted clothing.
Labels like “clean” and “nontoxic” don’t have a standardized definition, meaning that brands can apply it to their products without much oversight. These buzzwords are something akin to what “sustainable” was a decade ago, a notion that brands like Everlane, Reformation and Allbirds were founded on.
Retail analysts say the reason some of these companies have struggled in recent years — Everlane was acquired by Shein, and Allbirds pivoted to artificial intelligence — is partly because that messaging isn’t as buzzy as it used to be.
“Sustainability conversations around saving the planet are not really landing the way that we want them to,” said Helen Palmer, head of materials, textiles and knit at WGSN, a trend forecasting firm. “There has to be something else attached that makes it feel like a benefit to the consumer.”
Reformation still advertises itself as “sustainable,” but it recently added greater focus on natural fibers, highlighting the breakdown of the materials in its clothing to court a customer interested in “healthier dressing,” Kathleen Talbot, the brand’s chief sustainability officer told Business of Fashion. (Representatives for Reformation did not respond to multiple requests for comment.)
The polyester backlash has been amplified online by influencers who warn against wearing clothing, such as leggings, made from synthetic material for a variety of reasons.
On TikTok, Adamma Onuoha, who works in social housing management in London, shares the lifestyle changes she has made as she is “fighting for a healthier me.”
Onuoha, 40, follows an anti-inflammatory diet, strength-trains and purchases clothing made from natural fibers. She recently bought a pair of sweatpants from Asos, a fast-fashion retailer, that she says were advertised as 100 percent cotton.
Leah Davis, 25, a content creator based in Provo, Utah, said she has tried to be careful about how she talks about synthetic fibers. She describes herself as someone who “cares about fabric composition.”
“I never say, ‘Someone who, like, refuses to wear polyester,’ or something that’s a little bit more fear-mongering,” said Davis, who posts outfit videos, frequently sharing the fabric composition.
She likes to extol the benefits of wearing materials like cotton and wool, highlighting the breathability and versatility of the fabrics.
As with other status-infused products, clothing made from wool and cashmere allow for storytelling around the source of the material and the farms from which it was grown.
“Consumers are looking beyond what their clothing actually looks like, and they are digging a bit deeper,” Palmer said. Though, she added, “there’s no such thing as a perfect fiber.”
The post When Did Synthetic Fabrics Become the Enemy? appeared first on New York Times.




