A simple formula for waste reduction

Quality>quantity.

That's it. That's the formula.

I know that comes across as incredibly reductive, but (at risk of repeating myself) simple should never be mistaken for easy.

If we're talking about a mindset shift from our consumption culture of more for less, 'quality>quantity' needs to be embraced all along the value chain. From materials, through to product design and on to our purchasing decisions as consumers.

I remember my father telling me (I think about buying tools), buy quality, and you'll buy it once.

It is an ethos I have strictly adhered to since I became aware of our planetary boundaries and the impact of our extractive economy on the environment.

I'm still wearing my Trickers boots that I got married in 12 years ago (though they've been re-soled three times).

My wardrobe is stacked with 10+ year old selvedge jeans and repairable/repaired Patagonia shorts. My Sunspel t-shirts are handmade in England. They're expensive but hold their shape and colour, with many able to be worn out in polite company well into their fifth or sixth year of service before being demoted to garden duty.

When we moved our family up here to the Northern Rivers for a simpler life and to be more connected to nature and community, we bought a small 1917 weatherboard farmer's cottage with limited storage. As a small family, this was doable as long as we kept our possessions trimmed down to not only what we needed but also what was beautiful.

My wife is the creative director of our home's aesthetic, which I describe as 'creative clutter'. If you're a mid-century neat freak, it won't be your bag. Still, even though our house is never really tidy, it works, especially if that clutter is made up of beautiful items instead of the purely functional and disposable. An approach that I couldn't communicate more succinctly than this:

If we extrapolate this approach out to society, we start to bump into the 'degrowth' movement. Its adherents have been vocal, particularly in the rarefied corners of the internet where I spend most of my time.

The degrowth movement challenges the traditional notion that economic growth is inherently positive, advocating instead for a sustainable reimagining of progress. By prioritising ecological health, community wellbeing, and resource equity over relentless consumption, degrowth calls for systemic change to combat overproduction and waste.

Sounds like just the ticket, right?

But the backlash has been both strong and swift. This is, of course, the immune system kicking in to defend against any idea that could slow down our economy. But it's also down to its unhelpful name and branding. As Jason Snyder puts it:

Instead, our economy is rocketing in the other direction.

Fast/Instant/on-demand/disposable fashion is eating the world

Swinging back to apparel, the average consumer buys 60% more pieces of clothing than they did 17 years ago.

And before we point the finger at fast fashion (that concept is so last season, sweetie). The likes of Shein and Temu are now dominating the market with their offering of instant fashion, or on-demand fashion, disposable fashion even.

Choose your term. Or choose all three.

In this model, products are manufactured to order and not made to last.

Shein's production model is fast—and vast. Reports suggest it takes as little as 10 days for a design to go from concept to garment, with up to 10,000 new items added to its site daily!

That's insane.

And when 85% of our clothing ends up in landfills at 17 million tons per year, you can see we have a problem.

This relentless AI-driven scale allows for unbeatably low prices for consumers but comes with a staggering cost to the environment. In 2023, Shein reported emitting 16.7 million metric tons of carbon dioxide—more than the annual emissions of four coal power plants—making it fashion's biggest polluter. Its reliance on polyester, a fabric notorious for microplastic pollution, drives much of the impact. Polyester accounts for 76% of Shein's materials, with just 6% of that coming from recycled sources.

Beyond its carbon footprint, Shein faces criticism for contributing to textile waste, microplastic pollution, and exploitative labour practices. For a brand built on speed and volume, the environmental and social toll is mounting—and hard to ignore.

Recent market analysis revealed that nearly half (44%) of Gen Z shoppers in the United States purchase at least one item from Shein every month.

It's hard to deny Gen Z kids being hit hard by the cost of living crisis the opportunity to buy more with less. But there is an interesting friction in values here (that we're all guilty of to some degree), given that this generation is the most vocal about saving the planet ✊🌏.

As I wrote in last week's post, supply drives demand, and we must stop putting this on the consumer. The responsibility has to sit with industry in terms of design, materials and output, with government in terms of regulation, and whole of value chain collaboration in terms of systems.

I'm not asking Gen Zers to dress like an aging hipster and wear Trickers boots, selvedge jeans, and handmade t-shirts, but the market needs to offer them better options than Shein and Temu.

Something like... SATISFY®

It's time for timeless fashion

SATISFY® is a running apparel brand that sits at the opposite end of the scale to Shein and Temu.

It's a niche, within a niche, within a niche.

When you read articles about the challenger brands disrupting the sportswear segment's behemoths, they don't rate a mention. But they're quietly disrupting the disruptors.

I'm obsessed with running. I was a competitive athlete in my teens, and I have returned to running and trail running on my own terms. That is, I do it for mental and spiritual wellbeing.

And with that, the bland, functional sea of dull greys and colour-blocked apparel aimed at wannabe jocks never appealed to me. But that was all that was on offer. The killer for me was that the lining in my Nike shorts would always be shot before the year was out, too.

I was primed for something different.

Then along came SATISFY®.

They have released some incredible collections with highly innovative fabrics and prints, and the branding, art direction, and editorial approach to content are an absolute masterclass.

Everything they do is beautiful in a distinctly raw vernacular. They have a renegade punk ethos and understand that some people run simply because they love it, simply for the runners high. They capture this in their gear, events, slogans, brand assets and content, such as this example:

But there's a catch. Their apparel is crazy expensive.

And when I say crazy, I mean CRAZY.

Now, I have been ribbed and ridiculed by mates for paying 340 AUD for a pair of running shorts. And I get it; on the surface, it is absurd.

But stick with me and hear me out.

Sure, their gear is expensive, but it's justified. This isn't a Gucci handbag made for $50 and sold for $2,000.

There is considerable thought, care, innovation and R&D going into each item's materials, stitching, comfort, performance, style, and finally... longevity. All run by a tiny team out of Paris.

My running shorts with bike liners cost a bomb, but they're light, comfortable, and I haven't chaffed on a single long run. Importantly, they've held their shape and are still going strong nearly 4 years and countless kms later. Whereas, my Nike shorts at $80 a pop would be in the bin within the year.

The Satisfy running singlets and caps I've since bought are of the same quality and longevity.

So to my (and Satisfy's) detractors, not only does the math checkout, but that's three pairs of (admittedly plastic-derived) shorts that didn't go into landfill.

Perfect isn't on the menu

I share all this because perfect isn't on the menu when it comes to apparel. Natural fibres like cotton and wool have an impact and take a lot of input, water and emissions to grow. Garments made from recycled plastic still shed microplastics into our ecosystems.

Even Patagonia, for all of its sustainability efforts and offer of repair, is still selling a billion dollars worth of apparel, where 85% of it will end up in landfill.

But if brands like Satisfy and Patagonia are putting effort into design, apparel quality, and materials innovation, that is a cost that is pulled from being externalised to society and the environment and into the market to be paid for by both the business and the consumer, and creating economic value and jobs along the way.

Of course, most runners won't pay 300-500 AUD for a pair of running shorts. But a little like how F1 tech eventually ends up in your Mum's hatchback. So, too, can this approach to business trickle through the value chain and light the way to a different system of both production and consumption.

In a market economy, when brands take on that kind of cost and risk to make better products, they do need us to vote with our dollars and send a market signal rippling out to their competitors that this is what's required to earn our business.

Economies of scale can then work their magic to pull this mindset through the value chain from prestige into premium and eventually into the affordable mainstream.

And then, instead of filling that hole in our souls with more disposable stuff, our cups will remain filled for longer with less, more beautiful and longer-lasting items and a mindset shift to a consumption culture of less is more.

If we want a more sustainable, circular and ultimately regenerative economy, this simple notion of 'quality>quantity' must be the underlying source code for everything we're designing for that future. The materials, the products, the marketing, and the systems.

If we don't, every supposed solution is just symptom management.