A small but mighty cohort of fashion designers is embracing degrowth, shifting away from seasonal hype and expansion to prioritize sustainability, scarcity, and long-term value. Can they make it the industry norm?
In 1930, the average American woman owned approximately nine outfits. Today, that number has increased substantially; Americans now purchase nearly 70 new garments annually. For the typical Monday-Friday office worker, that means enough clothes to avoid repeating outfits for an entire month, if not longer.
But, as the fashion industry faces more calls for accountability, some designers are asking: Are we finally circling back to simpler times? These designers are prioritizing a less-is-more philosophy, which many in the industry have long considered anathema. Some are shrinking their operations, others are refusing growth altogether. And a few are even questioning whether success should be measured by profit margins at all. We’re now in the era of fashion degrowth, and, funny enough, it’s growing.
What is degrowth?
The term “degrowth” migrated from niche ecological theory into mainstream conversations about capitalism, sustainability, and consumerism. Coined in the 1970s by French theorist André Gorz and rooted in environmental economics, degrowth challenges the foundational logic of perpetual economic expansion. In fashion, where novelty and volume have long driven value, degrowth asks: What if the future means producing less, not more?
“We’ve discovered that even though we are all about simplicity, sustainable materials, recycling, and all those important things, we still have been producing way too much product,” designer Eileen Fisher told Vogue in 2020. “We are pleasing too many masters. We have lost track of the center of our concept, a little.” Fisher’s done her part to walk back from overproduction. The label’s Renew take-back program, launched in 2009, has collected more than 2 million garments for resale, repair, or reinvention. Rather than cycle endlessly through trends, the brand recirculates its own pieces, giving customers a curated sense of continuity rather than churn.
Mara Hoffman was one of the most high-profile designers to publicly reject fashion’s scale obsession. After transitioning her namesake label in 2015 to prioritize sustainable fibers and ethical labor practices, she increasingly leaned into degrowth. Her commitment became so resolute that in 2024, Hoffman announced she would be pausing operations entirely after two decades in business. In a letter published on the brand’s website and social media, she explained that the Spring 2024 collection would be the label’s “last offering for the time being,” stating her intent to “reset and redirect” her vision and energy into other creative outlets.
“We have been fighting for what feels like a long time to make this vision and model work in an industry that I believe deep down in its heart wants to heal and become better,” Hoffman said.
“But at the end of the day, its structure is archaic and was never built to prioritize Earth and its inhabitants,” she wrote in an Instagram post. “It’s no secret that its ‘success’ is still bound to harm, unchecked growth and extraction in so many ways. Although I am choosing to redirect my participation, I remain hopeful that there is potential for positive change. Knowing that there are so many incredible people working towards new systems, technology and legislation, we have a chance at this.”
Brands leading the degrowth shift
Several contemporary fashion brands are embracing the principles of degrowth by focusing on intentional design and limited production. In Mexico City, Zii Ropa, founded by Bridget Tidey in 2015, emphasizes timeless, modern, and functional silhouettes using natural fiber fabrics. The brand’s design philosophy is rooted in longevity, art, and balance, reflecting a commitment to sustainable and intentional fashion.
New York’s Hesperios, founded in 2016 by Autumn Hrubý, produces classic knitwear and timeless ready-to-wear collections for women and men. Each garment is made to last a lifetime, produced by artisans chosen for their craftsmanship and mindfulness of the environment, aligning with the brand’s sustainable and intentional approach to fashion.
Los Angeles-based Atelier Delphine, designed by Yuka Izutsu, offers a conceptual line that embraces getting dressed in a way that is both elevated and comfortable. The brand’s pieces reflect a sense of refinement and are part of a fashion-forward movement that values sustainability and intentional design.
The movement also includes brands that rely on deadstock and upcycled materials, like Marine Serre, Gabriela Hearst, Reformation, and Coachtopia, the Gen Z-focused Coach bag spinoff. With a significant portion of their garments made from upcycled fabrics, these brands challenge traditional luxury fashion by emphasizing sustainability and innovation.
“I am someone who is really fidèle, someone who is really loyal, and upcycling is really that,” Serre, who won the LVMH young designers prize in 2017, told Hypebae. It was during an internship with Maison Margiela when Serre didn’t have much money to buy new materials, “so I took what I had and transformed it into something else. This mentality has been incorporated in my works for quite a long time,” she said.
The environmental rationale for degrowth is difficult to ignore. The fashion industry is responsible for approximately ten percent of global carbon emissions — more than all international flights and maritime shipping combined. It is also the second-largest consumer of water globally, using roughly 93 billion cubic meters per year. Each year, 92 million tons of textile waste are generated, and in the United States alone, 85 percent of clothing ends up in landfills or incinerators. Less than one percent is recycled into new garments. Textile dyeing contributes to about 20 percent of global industrial water pollution. Washing synthetic textiles releases an estimated 500,000 tons of microfibers into the ocean annually, accounting for 35 percent of total microplastic pollution.
“It’s really not okay, and we are all closing our eyes on this and being super naive,” Serre said. She points to the rampant greenwashing in the industry — even fast-fashion giants like Temu and Shein have feigned environmental stewardship and responsible production. “Of course, it’s now become a trend to talk about being ‘green’ but then greenwashing quickly becomes an issue,” Serre said.
Labels including Stella McCartney and Prada have embraced materials made from ocean-bound plastic to reduce the use of virgin materials, namely polyester and nylon — both petroleum byproducts. Others are making quieter shifts, accenting handbags or shoes with minimal upcycled plastic or leather off-cuts. But they’re still pushing the buy-more models. The real problem, Manuela Irena D’Orso wrote for NSS Magazine, is the expectation for the industry to continue to grow and produce more, “while expecting theoretically ever-higher margins in an economy with ultimately finite resources.” D’Orso calls overproduction both an environmental risk and an “economic boomerang”, with the industry expected to increase emissions nearly three percent annually.
The soul of less
Degrowth is not just a climate play, though. It’s also, critically, philosophical. What does it mean for a garment to have value? When something is designed to last, created sparingly, and released without fanfare, does it carry a different kind of cultural and emotional weight? According to D’Orso, the degrowth theory promotes “slow but ‘happy’ growth,” distancing itself from the growth otherwise fundamental in a capitalist system, “one that, in one way or another, ultimately negatively impacts both the planet and the supply chain.”
Can we truly break the more-is-better cycle?
The shift may already be underway. A growing number of Gen Z consumers are embracing a minimalist lifestyle trend known as “underconsumption core,” which promotes mindful spending and sustainability. This movement, gaining traction on platforms like TikTok, encourages individuals to prioritize quality over quantity, repurpose existing items, and reduce unnecessary purchases. According to one survey, nearly 60 percent of Gen Zers have adopted this lifestyle, leading to significant behavioral changes. Notably, almost 75 percent have ceased impulse buying, and many report saving an average of $250 per month by cutting back on discretionary expenses such as dining out, online shopping, and streaming subscriptions.
This shift in consumption habits is reflected in broader spending trends. Data from Bank of America indicates that Gen Z’s spending declined by over 2 percent between 2022 and 2023, contrasting with spending increases among older generations during the same period. Furthermore, a McKinsey report highlights that Gen Z consumers are planning to reduce spending on discretionary categories like apparel, footwear, and electronics. This conscious reduction in spending underscores a generational shift toward financial prudence and aligns with Gen Z’s environmental concerns.
Even resale is evolving in this direction. After a period of hyper-growth, platforms like Vestiaire Collective are narrowing inventory by cutting out fast fashion giants and shifting focus to profitability and higher-margin items. Meanwhile, peer-to-peer platforms like Noihsaf Bazaar have built communities around curated, low-volume exchanges. Unlike the algorithms and anonymity of large-scale resale, these platforms prioritize trust, taste, and values. In its latest Resale Report, secondhand platform ThredUp identified “resale natives” — the generation of consumers who grew up buying secondhand and are now entering peak purchasing power.
They grew up shopping secondhand,” said ThredUp cofounder and CEO James Reinhart. “And so the mindset of how they will consume in the future — people generally underestimate, but it’s not wild to believe as this group has more and more purchasing power 10, 15, 20 years from now, that 80 percent of their closet isn’t secondhand.”
Still, degrowth is not without its tensions. The global apparel market will reach nearly $2 trillion this year and the industry faces more mounting pressure every day to address its environmental impacts. In Europe, policy is beginning to catch up with that urgency: the European Union has moved to mandate separate textile waste collection across all member states as of 2025, alongside sweeping Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR) rules that make brands financially and operationally responsible for the full lifecycle of the products they sell. Under revisions to the Waste Framework Directive, companies must fund the collection, sorting, reuse, and recycling of garments, with national EPR schemes required by 2027 and applying even to non-EU brands selling into the market. The policy framework goes further, introducing eco-modulated fees that penalize lower-quality, fast-fashion production and rolling out Digital Product Passports to track material composition and repairability.
Consumer behavior is also a large part of the shift. A 2023 Gitnux report found that 79 percent of consumers say sustainable fashion is important to them, and 63 percent would opt for a more sustainable brand over a less ethical one. But demand for fast fashion remains strong, with Shein becoming one of the most searched apparel brands in the U.S., even amid tariffs driving up prices on imports. The push and pull between aspiration and access, growth and responsibility, remains at the heart of this tension.
“I think the biggest thing we can do is reduce,” Fisher told Vogue. “Reduce consumption, reduce production.” In a system optimized for more — more seasons, more SKUs, more reach — labels like Fisher aren’t simply downsizing. They’re rebuilding fashion’s foundation around a different metric of value. “Buy less, consume less, produce less,” Fisher said. “Just do less.”
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