In June 2021, we released our first pair of shorts (or bermuda shorts, it’s pretty much the same thing). Robust fabric made in France, double stitching at the crotch, reinforced waistband, "jeans-style" button that won't come off, pre-washing to prevent shrinkage, roll dyeing for better color retention, colorfastness tests... In short, we applied more or less the same recipe as for our pants, and we thought we had all the ingredients to make a pair of shorts that would last for years.
But barely a month after launching them, we received our first complaint:
One complaint isn't a big deal: it might be an isolated case. Except that…
The kind of photo that gives any quality manager nightmares.
Not only were the shorts fading significantly, but they were also changing color! For example, the charcoal gray was turning reddish... By the 6th case, we started to panic and triggered our emergency procedure: we pulled the shorts from sale and launched laboratory tests to identify the source of the problem.
Our hypothesis was that this fading was the result of the combined effect of UV rays and sweat – almost as if our shorts were getting a bad sunburn. So, we requested a test where our fabrics were exposed to UV rays for 32 hours while submerged in sweat baths (not real sweat, of course). And the results were painful:
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
Translation: our shorts definitely have a major fading problem when exposed to the combination of UV rays and sweat, especially with so-called "alkaline" sweat (meaning sweat with a high pH).
In fact, our shorts were victims of what dyers call "golfer's syndrome": the collars of golfers' polo shirts (who spend dozens of hours in the sun with sweat around their necks) tend to change color under the combined effect of UV rays and sweat.
For us, it was a disaster: we had sold hundreds of shorts that were at risk of fading badly.
So we decided to organize a major product recall, much like car manufacturers do when they realize there’s a problem with brakes or airbags.
If you also want to dye shorts or anything else, here is the article in question.
And the responses didn't take long to arrive:
We realized the scale of the disaster... and also just how forgiving our customers are.
Over the following months, we worked with our factory to create a short dye formula that would hold up better. They improved it a bit, but not enough. In fact, we hit a wall: even after many attempts, we couldn't create a dye that was completely resistant to UV fading. We had to rethink our approach.
We didn't need to change the dye; we needed to change the dyeing machine.
At this point, there was something we were struggling to understand: we had already manufactured plenty of garments exposed to sun and sweat... but had never encountered such fading issues. Starting with our t-shirts. So why now?
Our hypothesis was that the fading actually came from the machines used to dye the shorts, which were different from those used for the t-shirts.
That’s right: our t-shirt is knitted (to give it elasticity), whereas our shorts are made from a woven fabric (to give them structure and rigidity).
Image source: threadden.com
Since woven fabrics are quite rigid, they can be dyed using "continuous" machines: they are fed through a system of rollers into a dye bath before being wrung out and dried. It’s a fairly fast and economical process, which has the advantage of consuming relatively little water and energy.
A continuous dyeing machine, like the one used to dye the fabric for our shorts (video here).
However, these machines cannot be used for knitted, which are more stretchy and would risk being misshapen by the tension between the rollers. Instead, we spin them for several hours in an autoclave: a sort of large, pressurized washing machine at temperatures above 100°C.
An example of an autoclave—not to be confused with Captain Nemo’s submarine.
Since our t-shirt colors are highly resistant to UV rays and perspiration, we wonder if the secret to their durability lies in this long, high-temperature, high-pressure hot bath. Perhaps that’s what sets the colors better than a quick pass through a dye bath between two rollers?
As it happens, there is indeed a process for dyeing garments made from woven fabrics in baths.
In factories, this is called “garment dyed.” Instead of dyeing rolls of fabric before making the garment, we do the exact opposite: we make the garment and then put it in a dye bath, using almost the same machines used to dye the knitted fabrics for our t-shirts.
Basically, “garment dyeing” involves putting finished clothing into a machine (like this one) with dye ( videolink).
And that really interests us. So, we decide to launch a prototype of a “garment dyed” pair of shorts.
When we receive it, we notice it has a more irregular, weathered look than our previous shorts. That’s normal: since these new shorts are dyed after being sewn, the dye settles into the irregularities of the seams, the bumps formed by the buttons, and the folds of the fabric.
If you look closely, you can see color variations around the “hard points” (belt loops, pocket edges, etc.).
And that’s actually good news for how it ages: since the fabric’s appearance isn’t perfectly uniform, wear and tear from machine washing or UV exposure will be much less noticeable.
That’s all well and good, but do the colors of these garment-dyed shorts hold up better against UV rays and sweat?
How it performs in real-world conditions
Before releasing our new shorts to the public, and after trying out several different dyeing recipes, we ran a colorfastness test in the lab, which—fortunately—proved very successful.
You might not know what these numbers mean, but these are genuinely excellent results for UV and perspiration resistance. We spent so much time getting these colors to hold up that we aren’t planning on changing them anytime soon.
So, we launched production of our garment-dyed shorts, and six months later, we started selling them... with a bit of apprehension: would these shorts end up fading too?
And here it is!
To find out, we had to wait at least a month until our customers received an email asking for their feedback (giving them enough time to wear them and put them through a few washes). And that was our first sigh of relief: nothing to report! Our customers love our shorts.
Customer reviews of the shorts, one month after purchase.
But the real verdict came in May 2025, when we received the first feedback from our customers one year after their purchase (the date we send them an email to see how their clothes are holding up). And hallelujah: our customers are still super happy with the shorts. Out of 65 reviews, they gave them an average rating of 4.7/5!
In any case, Stéphane knows how to pay a compliment
Admittedly, the color of the shorts does evolve a little...
Photos sent to us by our customers, one year after their purchase.
...but this time, it develops a nice patina—not too intense, and without shifting in tone.
A selection of customer testimonials illustrating the point above.
Practical, but not magic
At this point, you might be wondering: why don’t we make garment dyed for all our Loom clothing?
Because this dyeing method also has its drawbacks. First, as we saw above, it can result in a slightly irregular appearance: this isn't an issue at all for a pair of shorts—on the contrary—but it can be for more formal garments, like chinos or a dress shirt. Furthermore, it is more complicated to manage at the factory level: it costs a bit more (it consumes more water and energy), there is more waste, it is difficult to achieve the exact right color, and finally, prolonged heat can sometimes weaken the fabric.
In short, garment dyeing is not a magic solution. In fact, the more we advance in our understanding of textiles, the more we realize their complexity: to make durable clothing, you have to find the right industrial process for each piece.
And garment after garment, we are also beginning to understand that you can't have it all. To make shorts that don't fade at all, we could opt for a fabric with polyester (color is easier to fix on synthetics), as more and more brands are doing, but they would be less comfortable and less attractive. Or we could have them made in Asia: over there, they use certain particularly aggressive (and dangerous) dyeing products that are banned here. Ultimately, every garment we develop is the result of a compromise between many dimensions: price, environmental impact, aesthetics, ethics, comfort, etc. For our shorts, the compromise we chose is to make them from organic cotton (a natural material), close to home (in Portugal), which will develop a beautiful patina over time.
Anyway, we hope you like these shorts, that they will accompany you through many summers... and that they will age as well as you do.
Rather than throwing it away (or reselling it), you decide to donate it to a charity or drop it in a dedicated collection bin (well done, as only 30% of people do the same).
The collection bin: the first step of the journey.
After being collected, your t-shirt ends up in a large sorting center, where experts decide its fate by touch and sight, based on its condition, composition, and potential resale value.
The sorting center conveyor belt: in a few moments, your t-shirt's future life is decided (photo: Le Dauphiné Libéré).
From there, several scenarios are possible:
Option 1: The "Cream" (5%)
Your t-shirt is in great condition and can be resold at a good price in a second-hand shop. This is what we call the "cream" (keep this term in mind, we’ll come back to it)—the top 5% of collected clothing with the highest value.
Option 2: The bottom of the barrel (45%)
Your t-shirt is in poor condition. It will either be "downcycled" (turned into rags or insulation) or incinerated to produce energy.
If your t-shirt isn't worth much, it will likely end its life as insulation.
Option 3: The middle ground (50%)
Your t-shirt is a standard item: it’s in good enough condition for a second life, but it’s not exactly top-tier. It will be compressed into a large bale of clothing before being sold to a foreign importer.
A warehouse filled with bales of second-hand clothes: a sort of departure lounge for garments (photo: Amiratex).
But wait, don't the clothes we donate go to people in need?
Actually, it depends on who you give them to:
Solidarity-based reuse organizations (e.g., Le Relais, which manages nearly half of the 47,000 collection points in France). In this case, your donation supports a social project: sorting and reselling clothes creates jobs for people in work-integration programs, and the proceeds fund their charitable initiatives.
Charities for the underprivileged (e.g., Secours Populaire, the Red Cross, or Emmaüs): a small portion of your donations may stock charity shops, where the most disadvantaged can receive clothing for free (via "solidarity wardrobes").
Other: in this case, no, your old clothes will not go to those in need; they are fueling a standard commercial business.1.
So, no: most clothes will not be “given to the poor,” simply because the needs are largely met by existing donations. However, if you donate valuable clothing to charities, you are participating in a solidarity system: the more “premium” items these organizations collect, the more profitable they become, and the more they can help people in need.
That is how it works in theory. Except that…
Today, the second-hand industry in France is in dire straits. Some collection, sorting, and recycling operators are losing money and starting to shut down one after another.
What happened?
First, with the rise of platforms like Vinted, individuals tend to resell items that have financial value and donate those that have less: the “premium” stock left for charities is becoming poorer, which weakens their economic stability.
An Emmaüs campaign that posted fake listings on Vinted to remind people of the importance of charitable donations (photo: Label Emmaüs).
But it is primarily the rise of fast fashion and low-cost retail that is dealing a blow to the second-hand business model: the value of “premium” stock has structurally declined as Shein, Primark, Leclerc, and their peers have gained market share. This is partly because clothing quality is decreasing, but mostly because the new prices offered by these retailers are so low that it is difficult for charities to make money from reselling. Yet, the entire business model for collection and sorting organizations relies on the resale of these “premium” items. The cheaper the clothes, the less viable the second-hand sector becomes. It is no wonder that in this context, organizations like Emmaüs are calling for regulation of the fast fashion and low-cost model.
There is a third, more contextual explanation for the second-hand crisis: export markets are blocked. African countries that traditionally bought our second-hand goods are now turning to Chinese second-hand imports, and France no longer knows what to do with the millions of garments left on its hands.
But the crisis of the second-hand trade in France is only the tip of the iceberg: the second-hand sector is facing a global crisis, both economic and ecological.
Remember that t-shirt you dropped in a collection bin? In one out of two cases, it is sold to a foreign importer. But where is this “abroad” where your t-shirt is sent?
B) The challenges of the second-hand trade in Africa
In more than one out of every two cases2, second-hand clothing ends up in Africa because it is (for the moment) cheaper to buy Western second-hand items there than it is to buy new clothes.
And which African countries? It is difficult to know exactly where your t-shirt ends up: after being sorted and re-sorted in various countries, the trail of French clothing becomes a bit blurred. However, looking at all clothing collected globally, here are the main African countries3 where they are likely to land:
We are talking about global flows here. For France, the main export destinations are Madagascar, Benin, Togo, Haiti… in short, former colonies.
Once the garment arrives in Africa, what happens to it? To find out, let’s look at what is happening in Ghana, the African country where the end-of-life of clothing is best studied, thanks to The Or Foundation, an NGO that is very active on the ground.
The garment is unloaded at the port of Accra, the capital, tucked away inside a bale of used clothing, which is itself packed into a container holding up to 400 such bales.
The clothing importer is not a charity, but a for-profit business: they sell this bale "blind" to a local merchant, known as a "retailer," for about €180. This retailer (often a woman) then tries to resell the clothes individually at one of the stalls in the massive Kantamanto second-hand market.
This is what a bale looks like when it is purchased by a vendor. There is no way to know if it contains valuable clothing or not… a bit like a pack of Magic cards.
The Kantamanto market in Accra, where 30,000 people work in the resale, repair, and upcycling of second-hand clothing (photo: Green Views).
In 60% of cases, the garment will be put up for sale, sometimes after a quick wash or ironing. Otherwise, it risks simply being… thrown away.
Why such waste?
If a garment is exported to Africa, it is generally in good condition: it is estimated that 95% of the clothing in these bales is “wearable”.
Yes, but… there are a thousand reasons why a “wearable” garment might not be “sellable”: perhaps the seams have twisted slightly, perhaps there are already many of that style for sale on the market, perhaps it is too warm for the climate, perhaps it has a cut, color, or style that no one here likes, or perhaps it needs to be washed and ironed but the investment just isn't worth it.
If there were few clothes available in Ghana, there would surely be less waste. But with the flood of second-hand items from fast fashion, there are already so many pieces arriving every day that it is increasingly likely that a garment will remain unsold… which puts retailers in a critical economic situation.
And if it is thrown away, what happens to that garment?
In Ghana, there are official landfills, but they were quickly overwhelmed by the volume of clothing received. Due to a lack of space, the surplus clothing is burned or left in open-air dumps.
In Accra, the size of the Old Fadama landfill has doubled in 5 years (photo: Pouvoirs d'Afrique).
Discarded clothing can also be washed by rain into gutters, end up on the beach, and begin to decompose, with dramatic consequences: microplastic pollution, impact on marine life, public health, and the city's economy…
Clothing on the beaches of Ghana, as seen in several recent TV reports (photo: Hugo Clément).
To sum up the situation:
low-cost new clothing is flooding Western countries
their value is too low for the local second-hand market, so they are resold abroad
there are so many of them that these clothes largely remain unsold in Africa
due to a lack of infrastructure, they end up accumulating in the environment
A quick clarification: it is unlikely that a t-shirt dropped off in a collection bin in France will end up on a beach in Ghana – this country primarily receives second-hand goods from the English-speaking world. There are also textile pollution issues in countries where France exports its second-hand goods (for example, the Cotonou lagoon) but likely to a lesser extent than in Ghana. However, nothing protects these countries from one day being overwhelmed by the same textile pollution and the same economic crisis.
So how can we change this system?
II. False solutions for saving the second-hand industry
Before exploring ways to fix this system, let’s first look at the false solutions: they don’t resolve the situation and may even make it worse… yet they are often the ones that keep coming up in public debate.
A) Bad idea number 1: Stopping second-hand exports overnight
This is often the first idea suggested when seeing these mountains of textile waste: Western countries should simply stop exporting their second-hand goods, or African countries should ban these products from entering their territory. In reality, this is a very bad idea.
First, stopping exports overnight would effectively destroy an entire sector of the economy, leaving tens of thousands of people in Africa destitute.
But above all, it would create another problem: “We are 100% sure that if second-hand exports stopped tomorrow, they would be entirely replaced by new fast fashion, which would be even worse” state the leaders of the NGO The Or Foundation. In the Kantamanto market, historically reserved for second-hand goods, stalls selling new fast fashion clothing are becoming increasingly common. One of the only things preventing a massive influx of new low-cost clothing into Africa today is the dominance of second-hand goods, which remain cheaper.
That said, in the medium term, we do need to be able to export fewer clothes abroad and better manage their second life domestically.
B) Bad idea number 2: Better sorting before exporting
The pollution of African beaches by second-hand clothing is often reduced to a question of “poor sorting” in France. As we saw above, the problem is not that the exported clothes are not sorted well enough: the reasons for disposal in African markets are so numerous and complex that it is impossible to “sort better before exporting.” The real problem is that there is no longer enough value in the collected clothing to sustain the business model for all the players in the chain.
Blaming the people who sort clothes for the consequences of the fast fashion boom is unfair—but it does serve to distract from the real root of the problem. When the bathtub is overflowing, blaming those trying to mop up the water is a way to avoid noticing that the tap is wide open.
C) Bad idea number 3: Recycling everything
It might seem obvious at first glance: instead of exporting, why not recycle in France and turn our old clothes into new ones?
Unfortunately, the economic model for recycling is very complicated: fibers recycled from old clothes are generally more expensive and of lower quality than their virgin material counterparts—and the recycling industry remains fragile. This is evidenced by the recent difficulties faced by Renewcell (despite being backed by H&M), Carbios or Soex. The result: today, worldwide, less than 1% of old clothing is turned into new clothing.
We can certainly fall back on "downcycling," for example by turning old clothes into rags or insulation. But even then, it is not so simple for local downcycling plants to find commercial outlets: their rags and insulation can quickly cost more than virgin equivalents manufactured on the other side of the world. For their business model to be sustainable and to encourage their growth, we must mobilize investments and subsidies.
It is better than nothing, and it is vital to support such plants. But if we want to reduce the environmental impact of textiles, this downcycling should only be an option for clothes that are too damaged to be worn. We should do everything possible to ensure that wearable clothes are worn again rather than turned into rags. And to do that, there is only one solution: slow down fast fashion so it stops competing with second-hand clothing.
To return to the bathtub metaphor, betting everything on recycling is like investing all our money in water treatment plants to handle the overflow... instead of turning off the tap or at least reducing the flow. Wouldn't it be more logical to turn only those clothes that have been worn for a long time, to the point of being worn to the thread, into rags?
There is still a long way to go, but change is far from impossible.
III. A roadmap for a truly circular textile economy
A) Ensuring the money follows the clothes
As long as we continue to send so many clothes to Africa, we cannot avoid a large portion of them becoming waste. We therefore need to develop local infrastructure to process them: recycling plants, landfills, functional sewage systems, wastewater treatment plants, and incinerators. But there is a funding problem: on one hand, local populations are dependent on this economy, but on the other, states are not wealthy enough to manage the waste.
The same applies to electronic waste from Western countries that ends up in Ghana, as well as India, Pakistan, Vietnam… (photo: documentary “The Light Bulb Conspiracy” by Arte)
The lack of funding also creates critical safety issues. In January 2025, the Kantamanto market burned down completely, due to the lack of an effective fire prevention and management system. Another danger: most of the goods are transported by kayayei - "head-porter" women - who weave through the narrow, crowded market aisles with loads of up to 55kg on their heads. This hard and dangerous work could be replaced by cart transport… if there were enough money to widen the aisles.
Tragedies also occur when a bale falls onto the baby that the kayayei are carrying on their backs (photo: The OR Foundation).
In short, these countries need money to process our secondhand clothes. And that’s convenient, because there is already a mechanism in place that (theoretically) helps fund the end-of-life of clothing: the EPR, or Extended Producer Responsibility.
EPR is a system that holds companies accountable for the end-of-life of the items they sell: essentially, it’s the application of the polluter-pays principle. If a brand puts a garment on the French market, it must pay a few cents to an “eco-organization” called ReFashion. With the money collected, this organization provides financial support to sorting operators, funds a repair bonus for clothes taken to tailors, launches communication campaigns to raise consumer awareness, and more.
The problem: the foreign countries that receive our old clothes never see a dime of this money, because the funding is spent exclusively within national borders.
However, if we are talking about “Extended” Producer Responsibility, wouldn’t it be logical for those who process the majority of our textile waste to receive the resources needed to build the necessary infrastructure and prevent clothes from ending up in their rivers or on their beaches?
In fact, we need to ensure that EPR funds follow the clothes when they leave French territory. This “Global EPR,” or Global EPR, is a recurring demand from NGOs and countries that rely on the secondhand trade.
B) Slowing down fast fashion… and making it pay
Being fairer to foreign countries is important. But what we really want, in the long run, is a secondhand economy that works in France, without sending so many clothes to the other side of the world.
To understand how to achieve this, we need to look back a bit. Why was it necessary to create an EPR textile sector—that is, to ask brands to pay for managing the end-of-life of their clothes?
Historically, the second life of clothing didn’t need to be subsidized: when clothes were still few in number and held greater value, people repaired them and wore them until they fell apart or passed them down within their families. And when the wealthy parted with their clothes, they easily found new owners. In the Middle Ages, this was the job of secondhand dealers: this profession was responsible not only for reselling clothes but also for repairing, cleaning, and restoring them. This business worked perfectly : in the 19th century, the Carreau du Temple market in Paris had over 1,500 secondhand dealers.
It was from the 80s and 90s, with the emergence of low-cost and fast fashion brands, that the economic model for secondhand goods in France became impossible. We therefore had to create this famous “EPR sector” in 2008: the government asked brands to financially support the secondhand economy.
On paper, it’s a great system.
But the sticking point is that all brands pay the same amount in eco-contributions, regardless of their business model : about 5 cents per garment, a figure that will increase in the coming years to meet new needs. This is unfair: fast fashion and low-cost brands are the ones destroying the profitability of second-hand players, and they should be the ones bearing the cost by paying higher eco-contributions. This would uphold the polluter-pays principle upon which the industry was built and encourage these brands to rethink their industrial and commercial practices.
How can we achieve this?
First, we need to overhaul the governance of the EPR sector. As mentioned above, its management is entrusted to an eco-organization: Refashion. Its specifications are set by public authorities, but in practice, it is funded, steered, and controlled... by the companies that put the most clothing on the market. Under these conditions, it is unlikely that Refashion will demand higher eco-contributions from low-cost and fast fashion brands. For this eco-organization to prioritize the public interest, its independence must be strengthened, for example by creating an independent regulatory body, as recommended by this recent report from the General Inspectorate of Finance.
But above all, it would take real political courage to significantly increase the eco-contributions paid by fast fashion... And fortunately, this is starting to happen. Notably with the so-called "anti-fast fashion" law, which was passed unanimously by the National Assembly in March 2024, featuring a bonus-malus system in the EPR sector that could reach up to €10 per garment.
Yet, the end-of-life of our clothes could be much more virtuous if there were no more (or much less) fast fashion and low-cost production. If our clothes had value again, we would relearn how to care for them and have them repaired: we would re-dye faded shorts, mend broken seams on our sweaters, and add pretty embroidery to cover holes in our sweatshirts…
Once worn to the thread, our clothes could be turned into rags, insulation, or stuffing for cushions. And if we decided to part with them while they were still in good condition, they could easily be resold in local second-hand shops because they would have enough value to support everyone in the supply chain: collectors, repairers, and retailers.
In short, it would be an economy that reduces waste, creates local jobs, generates wealth for every link in the chain, and fosters expertise and sovereignty… that’s a pretty exciting vision for the future, isn’t it?
P.S. We need your help
France is currently working on a textile environmental labeling method that has a major merit: penalizing incentives for fast fashion consumption and encouraging more virtuous business practices. However, there is a risk that Europe will reject the text to impose a less favorable method. Help us support the French method by signing this online petition !
Notes
1 In some cases, collected clothing is exported abroad without being sorted; this is known as "original" export. The top countries France exports to are, in order: Tunisia, Belgium, the UAE, and Pakistan (source). Once there, the used clothing is sorted and graded. The "cream of the crop" is then re-imported into France (or other Western countries) to be sold in second-hand shops like Kiloshop. So why this back-and-forth? It’s (as is often the case) a matter of money: labor is much cheaper in Pakistan. Ultimately, "original" export offshores the sorting process to low-cost countries. There are quite a few companies doing this; they are responsible for nearly half of all French clothing exports (Source: 2022 Refashion report: "Nearly half of these flows are not tracked by Refashion because they are exported by non-contracted operators"). To learn more, watch the documentary Very Bad Fripes.
2 For more detail: used clothing is sometimes first sorted in centers in other countries, such as Belgium or Pakistan, which then send it on to Africa. Ultimately, however, more than 50% of French exports end up in Africa. Source: Reprocessing of customs data.
3 Analysis based on global trade statistics (source).
Making a bath towel had been on our minds for a while, because we couldn't find many that met our four key requirements:
A little over a year ago, we decided to get started. To figure out what our towel should look like, we created a survey with one central question: “What’s the problem with your towels in general? Why do you end up stopping using them or throwing them away?”
After combing through your hundreds of responses, we realized the towel of your dreams was…
soft: 50% of you complained about towels that are too scratchy
durable: 20% of you mentioned holes or fabric that wears out too quickly
absorbent: 20% of you told us about towels that don't dry you off well enough
All of that means that what you really wanted was one thing above all else…
A nice, thick towel
That’s right, it’s the thickness that allows it to:
provide that plush, cozy feel
slow down the appearance of holes or fabric wear
absorb water better
We therefore chose to manufacture a towel with a high weight of 700 g/m2, which looks exactly like this:
In the industry, it is generally considered that an entry-level towel has a weight of 200 to 400 g/m2, mid-range goes from 400 to 600, and high-end starts at 600. According to hotel linen suppliers, 700 g/m2 is actually “luxury hotel” quality:
Probably the only thing we have in common with the Ritz.
But density isn't everything; there are other factors that go into making a quality towel:
To ensure it’s soft, we chose combedcotton, meaning we kept only the long, well-aligned fibers (much like well-combed hair).
For absorbency, we opted for fairly large loops, 4.7mm high. That’s right: loops increase the surface area between the cotton and the water, allowing it to absorb moisture much faster.
We pre-washed our towels at the factory so you can use them right away (and to ensure they don't shrink in the first wash).
Finally, we chose to use organic cotton (not to be confused with the Oeko-Tex label, which only guarantees that pesticide residues have been removed from the final product).
And all of this…. Made in Portugal.
As we explained earlier, we wanted our production to be as local as possible. But there was one thing we couldn't manage: manufacturing this towel in France. You might be thinking that’s a shame, since there are still home linen manufacturers in France... Surely companies like Lin Vosges, Blanc des Vosges, or Garnier Thiébault know how to make terry towels, right?
Customer feedback from our bath towel survey.
That’s what we thought too, but after looking into it, we quickly realized otherwise.
Why there are no more made-in-France towels
In reality, French manufacturers (including those mentioned above) primarily produce bed linen (sheets, essentially), not bath linen. To quote Blanc des Vosges: “We prioritize carrying out every stage of our products' manufacturing in the Vosges whenever possible [...]. Unfortunately, the expertise for manufacturing terry cloth barely exists in France anymore.”
That’s right: making terry towels requires a very specific machine to weave the small loops—a loom with two beams (one for the base of the fabric, one for the loops).
For this reason, towels sold in France come from countries that have developed or maintained this expertise (unlike France) and possess these machines, such as Pakistan, Turkey, or India:
Cotton terry towel imports by country in 2023 (in tonnes) according to French customs.
Yet, not so long ago, France still had a major terry towel industry. We even had the largest manufacturer in all of Europe: Jalla. It seems it even became a household name, like Kleenex or Frigidaire… Back then, people would “dry off with a Jalla.”
A 1953 ad for Jalla highlighting its softness, durability, and absorbency. It was worth conducting a survey: in 70 years, expectations haven't changed.
The Jalla factory was an industrial empire, known for its large company town… which today looks like this:
Jalla factory site in Nieppe: an abandoned industrial wasteland (the Jalla brand still exists but no longer manufactures in France).
In short, the classic story: starting in the 70s and 80s, the opening of the textile market to global competition proved fatal for terry towel manufacturers. Today, only a few factories remain in France (such as Yves Delorme’s) that produce very specific towels: those with complex patterns, which require weaving on a "Jacquard"loom.
Some brands (like Embrin for example) still manage to have linen towels manufactured in France by using a “honeycomb” weave that can be produced on a standard loom. If you aren't concerned about fluffiness and Made in France is important to you, linen towels are an excellent alternative to cotton ones in terms of quality.
Will we ever be able to manufacture our Loom cotton towels in France? We would love to, because in theory, we could release them at a reasonable cost: compared to a shirt or a pair of pants that require dozens of minutes of manual sewing, a towel takes very little time to make. In other words, the share of labor costs in manufacturing is quite low compared to machine or energy costs, which makes this product a good candidate for production in France (to learn more about this, we wrote an entire article here). So, we’re putting a message in a bottle: is there a French textile factory planning to reinvest in looms for terry towels? (Otherwise, who knows, maybe one day, at Loom, we will set up our own factory ?).
But in the meantime, our thick, organic cotton towel, made in Portugal, is available in 3 colors on this page.
Ta-da!
The 50x100 cm is €20 and the 70x140 cm is €30. Prices that aren't too high because, as usual, we keep our margins small (if you want to know why, read this page).
But before we go, we wanted to tell you one thing. If 50% of you find your towels a bit scratchy, it doesn't necessarily mean they are worn out or poor quality: it might just be because not many people know how to wash them properly. We’re going to take a few minutes to explain how to care for them so they stay nice and fluffy.
How to keep your towels fluffy
For several years now, we’ve been helping customers who complain to Loom’s customer service that their clothes have become scratchy over time. By looking into this issue, we’ve learned a few things that apply even more to the world of bath towels.
Fabrics can become scratchy due to two things:
1/ Washing
Successive washes cause a buildup of detergent, fabric softener, or limescale residues on the fibers. So, to keep your towel fluffy, you need to get rid of these residues. To do this, you must:
not use too much detergent
NEVER add fabric softener (yes, it’s quite counter-intuitive, but fabric softener coats the cotton fibers and makes them lose their absorbency).
But above all, there is a magic solution to get rid of these residues:
Yes, white vinegar. When you run a load of laundry, pour a glass of white vinegar into the fabric softener compartment: it will dissolve limescale and detergent buildup (if you’ve ever cleaned a kettle with white vinegar, you know it’s magic against limescale).
The fabric softener compartment is usually the one with a blue plastic tip and a little flower icon. You probably already knew that, but just in case…
2/ (Most importantly) drying
Actually, it’s during the drying process that your towel is most likely to become scratchy. And that comes down to chemistry.
As water evaporates, the cellulose molecules (which make up cotton) rearrange themselves to form longer molecules, which creates stiffness. This is exactly the same phenomenon that causes wrinkles in cotton fabrics.
Mini chemistry lesson: when water evaporates, water molecules (H2O) give way to new hydrogen bonds between the cellulose molecules (the little orange lines). Illustration credit: Laghi I.
Very scratchy (sandpaper level) : you dry your towel on a drying rack, a clothesline, or a towel warmer without shaking it out before or after
A bit scratchy but okay : same as above, but you shake it out well before and after
Fairly soft : you dry it on a drying rack outdoors and a light breeze keeps the towel moving
Fluffy: you dry it in the tumble dryer
Ultra-fluffy (kitten-soft level): You dry it in the tumble dryer with dryer balls, which toss the towel around even more
Of course, tumble dryers consume a lot of energy, so they aren't great for the planet. We'll leave it to you to decide between your comfort, your environmental conscience, and your electricity bill ;-)
One last tip for the road
As is often the case, we learned a lot while developing this product: about what makes a quality towel, about French industrial history, and about care methods. We hope you’ll go to bed a little smarter tonight, too.
But after reading your survey responses, we realized there was one last thing we could teach you: how to tie your towel around your body so it doesn't fall off.
Feedback from a customer who had a slightly awkward moment when the neighbor across the hall rang the doorbell to borrow some salt.
Dear François, successfully tying a towel around your body isn't about the towel, it's about the technique. To do it, wrap the towel around your waist and then fold the top edge down. If you missed that viral TikTok video, here is how to do it on video.
1. The (dirty) state of the clothing industry in France
If you own about a hundred items of clothing, you’ll likely find only about… three labels. Maybe a pair or two of socks, or perhaps an undergarment or a sweater. That’s right: only 3% of clothing sold in France is actually made in the country.1.
In other words, the French clothing industry—the one that dresses us every day—has all but disappeared.2.
Yet, that’s not exactly what we read in the news. We sometimes hear about a “textile renaissance” boasting over 100,000 jobs3 (a figure that is reportedly even on the rise4) with clothing exports up to over 14 billion euros5… Unfortunately, these figures are misleading.
When you look at the details, those 100,000 jobs include employees from all companies whose “primary activitiesare “textile manufacturing, garment production, leather, and footwear.” But among these companies, how many actually make the clothes we wear every day? Well, not many. Here is the breakdown of the 109,000 jobs in the clothing, textile, and leather sector:6 :
So, we have:
42,000 jobs in the leather industry, which is the main driver of the job growth observed (+14,000 jobs since 20067). However, these companies hardly manufacture any clothing at all: to put it bluntly, they mostly make luxury handbags, which isn't very practical for everyday wear8.
36,000 jobs in the textile industry proper, meaning fabric production (spinning, weaving, etc.). Yet, this industry is largely focused (two-thirds of it9) on the production of technical textiles (car seat covers, workwear, fabrics for furniture or the medical field), as well as fabrics for home furnishings or household linens. While this ecosystem surrounding technical textiles is fortunately quite dynamic in France, it produces almost no clothing.
31,000 jobs in garment manufacturing. But if we look at the details, the largest companies listed in this category (here or there) are actually contractors that have most of their clothing made abroad: these are not jobs for tailors and seamstresses, but primarily for administrative staff and buyers—so it has nothing to do with a local industry. As for the rest, it mainly consists of workshops that manufacture for the luxury industry (which accounts for up to 90% of their clients). Consequently, among these 31,000 employees, very few are actually making clothing...
In fact, out of these 109,000 jobs, only a few thousand (likely no more than 10,00010) are truly dedicated to clothing France on a daily basis.
If we exclude the garment workshops, which today work primarily for the luxury sector, we are left with only about fifty small factories in France that actually manufacture clothing: a few spinners, weavers, knitters, or dyers in niche segments (we have compiled a list in this document, please feel free to add to it if you know of others). For comparison, Bangladesh has more than 8,000 factories dedicated to clothing11, which is almost 200 times more…
And these are the same factories we see over and over in TV reports to show that it is still possible to manufacture clothing in France. They are often labeled as "Living Heritage Companies," and rightly so: they are the guardians of expertise that is disappearing day by day. But for how much longer? Many of them are currently in great difficulty, such as Velcorex in the Vosges or Lemahieu in the North12.
As for the 14 billion in clothing exports sometimes mentioned in the media, where do they come from? A portion is due to the luxury sector, but otherwise, these are mainly re-exports of clothing: major French brands (Kiabi, Decathlon, etc.) store clothing manufactured abroad in their French warehouses and then send them to their stores abroad to be sold there: as INSEE points out13, 75% of French textile exports come from imports.
In other words, the French everyday clothing industry has almost completely disappeared… and many of the remaining factories are experiencing major difficulties. In short, we have almost entirely offshored an industry that is supposed to cover a fundamentally basic need for its population: getting dressed.
Why did we lose our industry? Mainly because clothing… is soft.
2. Why we no longer have a clothing industry in France
The textile industry manufactures flexible objects, and that changes everything. Why? Because when materials are soft, we don't know how to replace the human hand with a robot.
A quick reminder: to manufacture a fabric or a garment, a certain number of steps must be carried out:
Obviously, these steps all use machines. But it is when we reach the final one, the garment assembly, that the machine is at its most… modest:
The most important machine in a garment workshop is the sewing machine.Photo credits Rio Lecatompessy
Yes, it’s the sewing machine, and it requires a skilled seamstress or tailor to operate it. Unlike rigid metal or plastic materials that robots can easily grab and move, only humans can handle fabric to sew it together. It’s not for lack of trying to automate it: history is full of failed attempts to create robots that could take over garment production from humans. The Japanese government itself invested over $100 million in the 1980s14. Even DARPA (the U.S. defense research agency) has invested in robotics startups to sew t-shirts15. But every time, these attempts have come up empty.
There is no other way: manufacturing a garment requires human labor, especially for the assembly stage. Sewing a t-shirt, for example, takes 5 minutes. For a pair of jeans, it is almost impossible to get it under 15 minutes16. Clothing was therefore the perfect candidate for offshoring: it is easy to transport, non-perishable, and since it is labor-intensive, there was a huge competitive advantage to moving production to countries where wages are very low.
So, starting in the 60s and 70s, as soon as cargo ships made it affordable to transport goods, the textile sector was one of the first to offshore. This is a trend seen in most Western countries.
Evolution of employment in the textile and clothing sector between 1970 and 2000 in several Western countries17.
The final blow: in 2005 (not that long ago!), the Multi-Fiber Arrangement came to an end. This regulation had capped clothing imports to protect Western industries. Imports from Asia then skyrocketed18, and faced with this competition, what remained of the French textile industry fell apart.
Even TF1 covered it on their news broadcast back in 2005—that’s how big it was!
And the consequences are more serious than you might think.
3. The consequences of the decline of the clothing industry
Before discussing the consequences for France, let’s state the obvious: the issue of offshoring primarily affects the countries where we move our production.
We politely refer to it as manufacturing in “low-cost countries,” but we need to look closely at what that actually means: companies have moved their production to countries where wages are far from a living wage. In Bangladesh, for example, even with a 60-hour work week, the minimum monthly wage only covers 38% of a living wage19, the income required to cover basic needs. In practical terms, if we have a t-shirt made there, it means the workers, despite working grueling hours, cannot afford decent housing, enough food, or their children’s schooling: it is work that allows them to survive, but not to live. Working conditions are so disastrous that the population has even revolted recently—protests that were violently suppressed by the government20.
Not to mention that by offshoring production, we have also offshored pollution (and actually increased it, since environmental standards in these countries are often lower and less strictly enforced than our own). Numerous scandals have highlighted this in recent years: rivers polluted by dye factories21, the release of endocrine disruptors into the environment22, and excessive lead levels in clothing23, to name just a few.
This is perhaps the main problem with offshoring: it harms people and the environment in the countries that now do the manufacturing. And because it doesn’t happen on our doorstep, we don’t really feel concerned when we buy our clothes. Out of sight, out of mind.
With that said, even if it’s a bit self-centered, let’s talk about the consequences for France.
A- Social issues: unemployment, and more
Unlike service-sector companies that cluster in large cities, factories require space and lower rent. They therefore create jobs primarily in rural areas and in small to medium-sized towns. Up until the 70s and 80s, French regions were once covered in factories specializing in various areas of expertise : spinning mills in the North, hosiery in the Aube, weaving in the Vosges…
1956 map showing the various textile regions in France (back when the French still wore hats and dressing gowns, though probably not at the same time).
When the factories closed, the jobs disappeared and never returned: most former textile industrial hubs (with the exception of the region around Lyon and Roanne) still have a higher unemployment rate today than the rest of France24. Especially since when the factories closed, the bakeries, cafés, post offices—in short, a good portion of the local economy—also shut their doors for good.
Roubaix, the former “city of a thousand chimneys” and one-time capital of the French textile industry, now has an unemployment rate of nearly 30%25
But it’s not just the problem of unemployment: there is also the issue of job insecurity. Working conditions in textile factories were often difficult, but they provided relatively stable employment (permanent contracts, in other words) and sometimes career prospects—not to mention the social benefits that came from certain forms of industrial paternalism26 (education, housing, medical care…). Today, the jobs available in these former industrial hubs have changed significantly, with contracts that are often shorter and more precarious27. Industrial employment has been replaced by service jobs that are less valued, lower paid, and often involve precarious working conditions. For example, we are seeing a sharp increase in logistics and transport jobs in the North and East 28 (to put it bluntly: instead of manufacturing goods in France, we store and deliver those coming from abroad), with low wages, a high proportion of temporary contracts and self-employed workers, and irregular hours for drivers... And as in many rural areas with aging populations, more and more people are working in care and personal assistance, with very difficult working conditions (fragmented hours, very low wages…)29.
And beyond this precariousness, there is also the loss of social status. In the factories, one could develop real, rewarding technical skills30. These jobs provided a real sense of pride and a place in local society, especially since the clothes and fabrics produced were tangible objects, visible to everyone. All of this took place within a rich local life structured by the presence of factories in these areas: a dense network of bistros and cafés, working-class football clubs, and the creation of popular education associations by unions, etc. Benoît Coquart, a sociologist who conducted a long-term study31 in the Grand Est region, where many textile factories have closed, provides a clear illustration of this: “Industrial activity [...] offered a way to cultivate a sense of shared belonging that one could feel ‘proud’ of. You were from this village or that one; there were cafes and bistros, community groups, and a factory just a stone’s throw away.” Today, despite their crucial role, jobs in care, personal assistance, and logistics are less socially valued: they are less visible and no longer hold the same place in local society. All these difficulties have ultimately created divisions within these very territories: people who are unemployed or stuck in a cycle of odd jobs find themselves heavily stigmatized. Benoît Coquart cites the example of a village soccer team traveling for a match and being referred to as “the town of losers.”
Beyond the social consequences, there is also the ecological aspect. We mentioned local pollution earlier, such as waste dumped into rivers or the spread of endocrine disruptors, but that would overlook a type of pollution that knows no borders: greenhouse gases.
B- Ecological issues: let’s not forget CO2
A garment made abroad often emits far more CO2 than one made in France, because the energy used to power machines in low-cost manufacturing countries generally emits significantly more greenhouse gases than in France and Europe. For example, a garment made in China, where electricity is primarily generated by coal-fired power plants, emits twice as many greenhouse gases as the same item made in France32.
But above all, beyond the pollution per garment, there is the problem of the sheer increase in the number of garments produced. “Thanks” to offshoring, clothing prices have dropped, and clothing consumption in France has more than doubled since the early 1980s33 to reach 40 garments purchased per person per year in France34.
Trends in the clothing price index (in the United States): in one generation, the relative price of clothing (compared to other goods) has been divided by three, which explains the increase in consumption35.
Production means pollution: greenhouse gas emissions from textiles have risen at roughly the same rate as production volumes. This increase in the number of garments produced is the primary reason the textile industry is failing to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions.
Okay, so the deindustrialization of the textile sector was a social and environmental disaster, but it was good for our economy, right?
One might be tempted to think that offshored industries aren't very strategic. Unlike the food or pharmaceutical industries, for example, the textile industry isn't truly essential. If we can't eat, we die. If we can't get medical care, we also die. However, in the event of a major crisis, we have more than enough clothes in our closets to survive for years, not to mention that we can always repair them.36. Admittedly, the mask shortage during the Covid-19 pandemic may have given textile factories a semblance of strategic importance. But in general, as this report from the High Commission for Planning points out, fashion products are not vital.
But in reality, while clothing itself may not be strategic, the trade deficit it generates eventually becomes so.
C- Problems for our economy: the deficit and associated risks
In 2023, we imported so many clothes from abroad that the textile and apparel sector generated a trade deficit of over 10 billion euros for France, representing nearly 20% of the country's total non-energy deficit.37.
Looking back, the picture is even bleaker, as the textile sector has been in deficit for a very long time: since 1993, France has accumulated over 240 billion euros in trade deficits from the apparel sector alone.38…
And these recurring trade deficits are not without consequences: to finance them, France must take on debt. And over time, that adds up to a lot of money. In 2023, our net debt to the rest of the world stood at 793 billion euros39 : if it continues to rise, it could pose solvency risks for France and trigger a serious financial crisis.40 (we are, in fact, approaching the 35% of GDP alert threshold defined by the European macroeconomic imbalance procedure). Yet, with 240 billion in cumulative deficits since 1993, the clothing industry bears a historical responsibility for nearly a third of this debt. Clothing is therefore not a "vital" or "strategic" product per se, but the absence of a clothing industry in France generates a debt that ultimately threatens our economy.
Okay, we get it: the disappearance of the textile industry has caused a host of social, environmental, and economic tragedies… But does that mean the solution is to relocate it to France?
After all, the trade balance is not intended to be balanced item by item. We might prefer to re-industrialize other "higher value-added" economic sectors and leave textiles, which are inherently more labor-intensive, to "low-cost countries."
One might think that we will, essentially, export Rafale fighter jets and import H&M t-shirts. An advisor to Bruno Le Maire even said that "the industrial future is not in clothing, but in moving upmarket."41 42.
So, should we resign ourselves and admit that our textile industry is doomed for good?
4. Should we relocate our clothing manufacturing to France?
To answer this question, we must return to the fundamentals of the industry: the machines. We mentioned earlier that sewing machines require a lot of labor. But that is only for the final stage of garment manufacturing. For the upstream stages, the textile industry uses much larger machines. For example:
A circular knitting machine for your t-shirts.
A "sanforizing" machine to stabilize fabrics.
A spinning mill to make cotton yarn (it’s a Swiss machine; they’re quite good at that) (except for football).
And year after year, these machines are becoming increasingly sophisticated. The result: in the upstream stages of garment manufacturing, labor costs no longer represent as much compared to the costs of raw materials, machinery, and the energy required to run them.
Today, in theory, the cost differentials between Western countries and low-cost countries are no longer so enormous. In a 2018 study43, the textile machinery manufacturers' federation calculated the theoretical cost differential of a fabric between different countries, assuming factories were equipped with the latest machines. Under these conditions, a meter of fabric made in China would cost only 24% less than in Italy today. Because even in Italy, where labor is expensive, it only accounts for a small portion of the total cost:
Comparison of theoretical manufacturing costs for a fabric (excluding overheads) in 2018: yes, it costs more to manufacture in Italy or Korea, but not by that much…
In the future, with the continuous improvement of machines, rising energy costs, and increasing labor costs in certain emerging countries, this gap will only continue to shrink.
Under these conditions, the textile industry does not seem so different today from other sectors like chemicals, automotive, or aeronautics: labor costs represent a portion of the costs, but not the majority. With the best machines everywhere at every stage of production, it would be feasible to compensate for the lower "price competitiveness" of Western countries with better "non-price competitiveness": for example, through better quality, greater responsiveness, closer geographical proximity, or better market knowledge. In fact, this is exactly what Italy has managed to do, as it still possesses a very solid textile industry in the manufacturing of fabrics for clothing.
Admittedly, there is still the final assembly stage, which is labor-intensive (remember, that’s the one with the sewing machines) and can still create significant differences in price competitiveness. For example, sewing shirts or trousers takes so much time that it is very difficult to achieve acceptable costs in France.44. However, not all clothing requires such long production times: for example, sweaters, socks, or even t-shirts can be manufactured locally without costs skyrocketing. Furthermore, it is entirely feasible to send fabrics abroad for the assembly stage, as some brands are already doing in Portugal (which is what we do at Loom for our chinos , for example). From an environmental perspective, this makes sense: the machinery used in the upstream stages of manufacturing is what consumes the most energy. Producing fabrics in France or Europe, using less carbon-intensive energy, helps reduce the textile industry's greenhouse gas emissions.
In short, with all due respect to this advisor to Bruno Le Maire, thinking that textiles are a dying industry that should disappear, and that we must only "move upmarket" to build rockets or semiconductors, is a rather bad idea. Besides, we have been told for decades that French industry must specialize in high technology to survive: it is clear that this has not been a very successful strategy. It is likely an illusion to want to specialize in "high value-added" industries if we lack the basic expertise and no longer have a broad industrial culture. And isn't it a bit naive to think that emerging countries will be content with only manufacturing low-end goods? China and India are proving that they can succeed in the highest technologies (e.g., aerospace or electric vehicles in China, space or semiconductors in India).
In reality, France needs to redevelop an industry for mass-market products as well (not just luxury goods) by investing sufficiently in automation and robotics. This could be in the food or automotive sectors, but also in the textile industry: whether in technical fabrics or the upstream stages of garment manufacturing, it is achievable. This is what can help reduce our trade deficit: instead of wanting to "move upmarket" and sell items abroad (like planes or handbags), we can also locally manufacture what we consume.
But how do we do it?
To give the textile sector a fighting chance, we must first adopt a more level playing field. Here is why.
5. How can we give the textile industry a second chance?
In the many articles or reports on the re-industrialization of France, we often read the same things: we must remove "the barriers of administrative complexity"45, "lower production taxes"46, "direct public procurement"47...
All of that is partly true. But in the textile industry, we must not forget the elephant in the room: clothing factories in China or Bangladesh manufacture at very low prices, primarily because people there are paid poverty wages, environmental standards are less strict or even non-existent, and factories are run on cheap, high-carbon energy (e.g., Russian gas in China or Bangladesh). All of this skews the production cost comparison between countries that we showed earlier: even if French factories run with state-of-the-art machinery, the differences in social and environmental standards are such that the cost gap remains too large.
In short, there is a "premium on vice," a competitive advantage to doing things the wrong way.
The premium on vice: an illustration.
If we want to see a textile industry reappear in France one day, we must first restore the conditions for fair competition with other countries. The ideal would be to ensure that low-cost countries adopt social and environmental standards as ambitious as our own (or even better!), but that is likely to take a very, very long time... So, in the meantime, we must penalize—or even ban—imports of clothing manufactured in countries with lower social and environmental standards.
This is also one of the conclusions of the recent report on re-industrialization commissioned by Bruno Le Maire from industry expert Olivier Lluansi: “Our industry [...] suffers from a major competitiveness deficit. Not of its own making, but due to unfair competition from other continental powers, such as North America or Asia. Resolving this situation solely through cost-cutting would mean abandoning our social model, our environmental ambitions, or both. That is unacceptable. To return to fair competition while upholding our values, we must reintroduce fair rules into international trade.”
In practical terms, what would this look like in terms of regulations? It remains to be imagined, but here are a few examples:
Expanding the scope of the duty of vigilance law, which financially penalizes multinationals that violate human rights and environmental standards. Using this law, NGOs have filed complaints in France against certain brands that used cotton harvested by the Uyghurs under conditions bordering on slavery. Shouldn't we expand the scope of this law to target brands that produce in factories where wages are far below a living wage?
Stricter standards for access to the European market than those currently in place. REACH regulations already allow for the banning of clothing imports containing certain chemical substances. But couldn't we extend these standards by banning the introduction to the European market of clothing whose manufacturing is the most polluting (or the most "exploitative")? This is the goal of the future European ESPR regulation on eco-design for products, provided it is ambitious enough…
A “bonus-malus” system based on the gap between the minimum wage and a living wage, a sort of “social adjustment mechanism at the borders.” For example: if a brand produces in a factory where the wage represents only 30% of a living wage, the brand would have to pay a penalty to cover the remaining 70%. This penalty would be redistributed to brands that produce in factories with better social standards. This would put an end to brands using the threat of relocation to keep wages low.
An ecological “bonus-malus” to financially penalize less virtuous clothing and reward more eco-friendly clothing, based on environmental labeling (which assesses the impact of clothing in terms of carbon emissions, toxicity, water pollution, etc.). But actually… you know what? This law already exists and was even unanimously adopted by the National Assembly last March! The problem: to be enacted, this text had to be voted on in the Senate… and the National Assembly was dissolved in the meantime. This law is therefore falling into oblivion, but with the En Mode Climatmovement, we are trying to fight to bring it back to the surface.
Results of the vote on the law in the Assembly regarding the ecological bonus-malus for clothing: for once, the deputies agreed on something…
Would such regulations alone be enough to revive the clothing industry in France? No. They are an absolutely necessary prerequisite to make our clothing industry more competitive, but unfortunately, they will not be enough.
When a forest is almost completely razed, it doesn't grow back overnight. To be reborn, the clothing industry will also need well-trained workers, entrepreneurs to create or take over factories, civil servants to guide public procurement, brands that play the game by buying "made in France," land made available by local authorities to set up factories, and so on. We will also need changes in consumer culture: because even with state-of-the-art machines and harmonized social and environmental standards, making a garment in France will cost more than in Bangladesh. We will therefore have to move toward greater sobriety, accept buying fewer clothes, and repairing them more often.
All of this will take years, probably decades. So, to achieve it, as many people as possible must share the same vision: it is highly desirable, but also entirely possible, to manufacture the clothes we wear here at home. France can relearn how to dress itself, and it is in its best interest to do so. What are we waiting for?
Illustration credit: Matthieu Lemarchal @tamieuh And thanks to all the reviewers of the article: Olivier Lluansi, Anaïs Voy-Gillis, Antoine Camous, Karine Renouil Tiberghien, Flore Berlingen, Pierre Condamine, Maxime Froissant.
Who are we to say that?
You are on La Mode à l’Envers, a blog run by the clothing brand Loom. The textile industry is spinning out of control, and the planet is paying the price. So, everything we learn about the sector, we try to explain to you here. Because making sustainable clothing is good, but revealing, sharing, and inspiring is even more powerful.
By the way, at Loom, do we make clothes in France? Yes, some of them! At least for those where we can offer acceptable prices even with French labor costs, that is to say: - Those that require proportionally little labor: socks, beanies, scarves, belts, certain sweaters, certain care products. - Those for which other brands traditionally apply a very high markup, and on which we remain competitive with Made in France by reducing our own: sunglasses. - Those with fabrics made in France and then assembled in Portugal: chinos, jackets, corduroy overshirts, swimwear. - Finally, we have certain products made partly with French linen, the only textile material we produce locally (along with wool): cotton-linen shirt, mandarin collar shirt.
Our goal is, of course, to offer more and more of these. But to achieve that, we need the new regulations mentioned in the article above! By the way, we never run ads: if you like what we write and want more, subscribe to our newsletter by clicking here. We promise to email you no more than once a month.
Notes
1 : Source FIMIF. Estimate confirmed by this DEFI IFM study in 2024. 2 : While in the 1960s, almost all of our clothing was still manufactured in France (customs statistics show very few clothing imports at the time). 3 : Ouest France 2020 4 : Les Echos 2024 5 : Fashion Network 2024 6 : URSSAF figures for textile APE codes (source). The figure of 60,000 jobs for the textile-clothing industry in France (excluding leather) is also sometimes cited. This is not exactly what we get here using the URSSAF figures (36,000 + 31,000 = 67,000 jobs). This figure comes from a calculation by the OPCO, whose scope is not exactly the same: it cross-references all APE codes with identifiers from textile collective agreements. It is therefore more precise, but it does not provide the textile/garment breakdown we needed here for the demonstration. 7 : URSSAF source 8 : 64% of leather goods manufactured in France are handbags (source INSEE). 9 : Le Monde 2019 10 : We mention the 50 factories working on everyday clothing below. If we estimate 200 people per factory, which is already very optimistic, that makes 10,000 employees. 11 : 8,000 factories according to this report. 12 : Sources: Fashion Network and La Voix du Nord. 13 : INSEE Made in France report. 14 : Source: Textiles and Clothing: Facing the Challenges of Globalization, OECD Report 2005. 15 : Why Robots Can’t Sew Your T-Shirt, Harris Quinn for Wired 16 : What is SMV in garments industry, Textile Scholars. 17 : Textiles and Clothing: Facing the Challenges, OECD Report 2005. 18 : EU: 15% increase in clothing imports from China in January-February, Fashion Network (05/23/2006) 19 : Source: The Industry We Want 20 : Source: France 24 21 : Asian rivers are turning black. And our colorful closets are to blame, CNN 2020. 22 : The Toxic Secrets of Fashion, Greenpeace 2012. 23 : Martin Weill report “Fashion Victims”, TMC 2022: lead levels measured 4 times higher than REACH standards in a Shein garment imported into France. 24 : Unemployment rate Q3 2021 according to INSEE : 10.0% in the Nord, 10.2% in the Aube, 8.5% in the Vosges vs. 7.9% in metropolitan France. 25 : INSEE 2020 source: 29.7% unemployment among 15-64 year olds in Roubaix. And with the closure of Camaïeu, which had its headquarters in Roubaix, fate continues to strike the city, which is more than ever a victim of low-cost textiles. 26 : For example at Boussac textile : creating schools, opening daycare centers near factories, building housing, and establishing home economics and vocational schools. 27 : “In 2017, the share of employees with permanent contracts was 44% in the industrial sector compared to 28% in the service sector. The industrial sector thus provides the middle class with jobs that are both better paid and more stable.” Source: (Accelerated) deindustrialization: the role of macroeconomic policies, François Geerolf and Thomas Grjebine. 28 : DARES 2020 Work and Employment Review : “Given the labor requirements, areas [...] in industrial decline are being prioritized, with logistics becoming a key development focus for the revitalization of so-called distressed regions. In Northern France, the eastern border regions, the greater Paris area, and the Rhône basin, blue-collar employment hubs with a strong logistics component have therefore emerged.” 29 : “Working from home” in the countryside : professional identities of home care workers for the elderly in rural areas, 2023. 30 : Textile professionals: building a proud consciousness, Françoise Faye, 2005. 31 : Benoît Coquard, Ceux qui restent. Faire sa vie dans les campagnes en déclin (La Découverte, 2019). 32 : Assessment of Carbon Footprint for the Textile Sector in France, Cycleco, February 2021: 20.90 kg CO2eq for one kilogram of textiles entirely manufactured in France vs 43.43 kg in China. 33 : In 1984, clothing consumption in France was 1.3 billion, or 23 items per inhabitant. Source: 1984 INSEE survey of 7,500 households. Today, it is 2.7 billion garments according to the eco-organization Refashion. 34 : Source: Refashion 2022 Annual Report. 3.3 billion * 83% of clothing / 67.8 million inhabitants * 99% = 40 items per inhabitant. If we include footwear and household linens, we reach nearly 50 textile items per French person. 35 : Source FRED Economic Data. 36 : Furthermore, clothing repair was strongly encouraged by governments in wartime countries; see the Make Do and Mend campaign in the United Kingdom during the Second World War. 37 : Cumulative textile and clothing deficit since 1993 according to French customs (excluding leather)(source). 38 : Source: French Customs, calculations based on this document. 39 : Our trade deficits contribute to widening our current account deficits (which notably take into account trade in services). Over time, this generates external debt, technically known as France's “net international investment position.” The fact that it is negative means that foreigners hold more assets in France than French residents hold assets abroad. More information on the Banque de France website. 40 : “The international investment position makes it possible to assess a country's risk of experiencing a financial crisis in the short term (sudden liquidity crunch) or in the long term (risk of insolvency), in accordance with the analytical methods generally used by international organizations”. Source: The international investment position: measurement elements and utility for monetary policy and financial stability, Banque de France, 2003. 41 : Marine Le Pen and Eric Zemmour outline their economic proposals at the Made in France trade show, Ivanne Trippenbach for Le Monde (11/15/2021). 42 : This conviction that moving upmarket is in line with the position of the 2012 Gallois report, “Pact for the Competitiveness of French Industry,” the second part of which is “An Industrial Ambition: Moving Upmarket.” 43 : Source: IPCC 2018 44 : To put it in perspective: a shirt takes about 30 minutes of sewing time. Since the hourly labor cost in France is nearly 40 euros, that would mean 20€ in production costs just for French labor. If you apply a standard brand markup (x5), that comes to 100€ for this step alone.45 : Reindustrialization: why does France have everything it needs to succeed? Augustin de Romanet for Le Cercle des Economistes (11/27/2023) 46 : Bruno Le Maire: "Lowering production taxes is one of the conditions for reindustrializing France", L'Opinion (10/07/2022) 47 : The reindustrialization of France by 2035 looks more like a guerrilla war than a "Blitzkrieg", Solène Davesne for L'Usine Nouvelle (06/08/2024)
Before diving into the heart of the matter, let’s look at some figures on how many new garments are purchased each year. In France, without even counting household linens and shoes, 2.7 billion items of clothing were placed on the market in 20221. That’s more than cartons of six eggs.
In 2022, we consume our clothes faster than our cartons of eggs. Source: En Mode Climat.
If we exclude unsold items2, each French person buys an average of 40 new items of clothing every year3. That’s a lot: in the 80s, it was about half that amount4. Were people poorly dressed back then? We’ll let you be the judge, but they still had something to wear.
Turns out, BHL didn't invent the shirt unbuttoned to the navel.
2. For the planet, we need to buy less
Such massive levels of clothing consumption are not without ecological consequences. We have already described them in several articles: greenhouse gas emissions, destruction of biodiversity, microplastics… If you don't have time to read them, remember one thing: production equals pollution.
Could we significantly and rapidly reduce this pollution while maintaining the same consumption volumes by relying on technical innovations? That is quite unlikely:
The scale of reduction enabled by technical innovations is too small. For example, if we look at "recycling," often touted by brands as the ultimate solution, it would only reduce the textile sector's greenhouse gas emissions and water consumption by 5 or 6%, even with massive efforts5.
These technical innovations are not being deployed quickly enough. For example, many brands aim to "decarbonize" their factories, meaning they want to run them on green energy rather than gas, coal, or oil... That's a great intention, but if we look at Bangladesh (France's second-largest clothing supplier after China), the share of renewable energy in electricity production is negligible and barely growing (we refer you to this article if you want to dig deeper into the subject of CO2 emission reduction in textiles).
The share of solar and wind in the electricity mix in Bangladesh = the almost invisible red line. Source: IEA.
Some technical innovations can be useful, but they can also act as a smokescreen that keeps us from seeing the elephant in the room: production equals pollution. So, the most effective and fastest way to reduce fashion-related pollution is, quite simply, to produce fewer clothes.
But the avalanche of reactions to the ad about these “un-sellers” suggests that even if buying fewer clothes is necessary from an ecologicalstandpoint, it would be a catastrophe from an economicperspective. We would risk triggering the collapse of hundreds of clothing companies that would be forced to shut their doors. In other words, this ad stirs up a new kind of “end of the world vs. end of the month” debate, but applied to businesses.
So, is that really the case? Would buying fewer clothes necessarily cause an economic disaster?
3. For the economy, we need to buy less and manufacture more locally
Before discussing the economic health of clothing companies, let’s first look at the country as a whole.
The risks of overconsumption for the French economy
Since most textile factories are in Asia, every time we buy a garment, money leaves France.
Origin of clothing purchased in France. Or Pac-Man on your back. Source: FIMIF
In 2021, with a deficit of over 12 billion euros, textiles were our 3rd most deficit-ridden industry, accounting for more than 20% of the total deficit excluding energy6. And France’s massive trade deficits have consequences. To pay for them, we have to borrow from foreign countries. More explanations in this report, but to put it (very) simply, it’s like borrowing money from the bank to eat out every day instead of cooking at home.
Mind you, borrowing isn’t necessarily bad: it can be justified if it’s to buy rare metals to invest in the energy transition, or machinery to bring our pharmaceutical industry back home. But if it’s just to import billions of low-cost garments, it’s essentially living beyond our means. And that cannot last forever7All these clothes imported from abroad represent money that cannot be invested in goods that are truly useful to our economy.
Then there is the loss of tax revenue for the country due to all these factories relocating abroad. Fewer companies in France means less tax collected and, ultimately, less money to fund schools or hospitals.
In short, this overconsumption of imported clothing is a risk to the French economy as a whole. But looking at the clothing sector specifically, wouldn't greater restraint put brands that are already struggling at risk?
The problem with the French textile industry isn't restraint; it's low-cost production.
Yes, 2022 and 2023 were catastrophic for certain French brands. You may remember the bankruptcies of Camaïeu, Kookaï, San Marina, Jennyfer, and even Pimkie… It is clearly a very difficult period to navigate.
But what are the causes? Is it because the French have generally started buying far fewer clothes due to inflation and a drop in purchasing power?
That doesn't really seem to be the case: we don't have the official figures for 2023 yet, but in 2022, the number of garments produced continued to rise (+2%8). And what we can observe is that some brands are doing quite well. Kiabi saw a 10% increase in revenue in 2022, and foreign fast-fashion retailers are breaking all records, such as Uniqlo, H&M, Zara or Primark9. We must, of course, add the newcomers of ultra-fast fashion like Shein or Temu to that list.
In other words, the reason for these retailers' struggles isn't that French people are buying fewer clothes; it's that inflation is driving consumers toward low-cost brands.10. In fact, low-cost retailers are now capturing the vast majority of the French textile market: 7 out of 10 garments sold in France are now low-cost items.11. And it’s striking when you look at the top 10 best-selling brands in France:
Market share by volume for the top 10 retailers in France in 202312
Fair enough, but even if the market is dominated by these low-cost retailers, whether French or foreign, that must still account for a lot of retail jobs, right? If French people really started buying fewer clothes in the coming years, wouldn't there be a risk of creating unemployment?
That’s far from certain. Over the last 50 years, the rapid surge in the number of garments sold hasn't created jobs in clothing retail—quite the opposite.
Between 1971 and today, while the volume of clothing consumption has more than doubled, 30,000 jobs have been lost in the clothing retail sector.13. We have never consumed as many clothes, yet we have never had so few jobs in the sector. Is online shopping to blame? Partly, but not as much as you might think. If you look at the figures, retail textile jobs had already declined significantly before the massive rise of the internet.14.
The main culprit behind the decline in clothing retail jobs in France is actually the low-cost model. The relative price of clothing (compared to income) has been cut in half over the last 30 years. So, even though retailers are selling more clothes, they aren't necessarily generating more revenue from them.15. Simply put, selling clothes used to support many small businesses; today, low-cost clothing is sold in large retail outlets that move high volumes but employ fewer staff.
And it’s not just in retail that the low-cost model has wiped out jobs; it has also destroyed a huge number of positions elsewhere in the textile industry:
In factories: because these clothes are increasingly manufactured outside of France, the number of jobs in the textile industry has been cut by two-thirds over the last 30 years.16.
In tailoring and shoe repair shops: as the French now buy far more new clothing, they have less of their own repaired. To give you an idea, the number of cobblers in France went from 45,000 in the 1950s17… to just 3,500 today18.
And then there are all the indirect jobs lost in textile hubs: when a factory closes, the local bakery, café, bank, or post office often follow suit. In hard-hit industrial textile regions like the North, the Aube, or the Vosges, the unemployment rate remains significantly higher than in the rest of France19.
Roubaix, the former “city of a thousand chimneys” and one-time capital of the French textile industry, now has an unemployment rate of nearly 30%20.
***** A brief aside *****
Yes, but low-cost brands are a good thing: they make clothing affordable for lower-income groups, right?
Yes, but no. While low-priced clothing does provide purchasing power and makes it easier for some struggling French families to buy new clothes, if you look at the bigger picture, it’s a poisoned chalice:
Working-class families are the primary victims of the low-cost model: the offshoring of the textile industry since the 1980s has destroyed a massive number of jobs, as explained above. Some of these former industrial jobs (producing our clothes locally) have been replaced by roles in logistics and transport (to import our clothes from abroad), but there are fewer of them, they are more precarious, and they are lower-paying.
Clothing prices are so ridiculously low and consumer pressure so intense (constant collection updates, sales, etc.) that even people from disadvantaged backgrounds can end up buying more than they had budgeted for (like this woman in this report “often counting every penny”).
Relocating production abroad leads to a shortfall in the country's tax revenue. Fewer companies in France means less tax collected and, ultimately, less money to fund education or healthcare. Yet, public services are the wealth of those who have none.
Disadvantaged groups are the first to suffer the long-term consequences of overconsumption, particularly those related to climate change
The majority of low-cost sales are not driven by the most disadvantaged: since 7 out of 10 garments sold in France are low-priced, it is clear that the customer base for low-cost brands extends far beyond the poorest classes. The argument that we must support low-cost models on their behalf is therefore seriously flawed.
***** End of digression *****
If we relocate industry, we can achieve both sustainability and healthy businesses.
To recreate wealth and jobs in the textile sector, we must go back to... how it used to be: manufacturing fewer garments, but manufacturing them more locally, in France or in Europe.
This would create jobs:
In factories: to give you an idea, the textile industry in Italy still accounts for 464,000 jobs, compared to only 105,000 in France21.
In clothing retail, since higher-value garments would allow for better compensation for shopkeepers;
In tailoring and shoe repair shops: fewer new clothes means more repaired clothes;
Not to mention indirect jobs: when a factory opens, it creates work for other factories in the ecosystem and for local businesses.22.
And incidentally, it would help us avoid destroying our planet and manufacturing clothes on the other side of the world under inhumane conditions. Let’s remember that in terms of purchasing power, working in the textile industry in Bangladesh is equivalent to working over 60 hours a week in France23 to earn about €391 per month24 (even taking into account recent raises following massive protests in the country). How can anyone live with dignity under these conditions?
It is understandable that this video upset some clothing retailers, who felt that in the short term, a message of sobriety could hurt them even more. But we must not mistake the enemy: the real danger to the textile sector is not sobriety, it is low cost. The ridiculous prices charged in fashion jeopardize our environment and prevent manufacturers and retailers from being paid fairly. Sobriety, on the other hand, can be a source of hope if "buying less" is accompanied by "buying better"—with clothes made more locally, sold at necessarily higher prices, but offering a decent wage for everyone.
What we can criticize the government for regarding this video is stopping at a communication campaign to raise public awareness, when the problem should be addressed at the root with laws that promote sobriety and relocation. For example: penalizing fast fashion brands that manufacture clothes by paying poverty wages and pushing customers to buy ever more (which we are calling for with many other textile brands via the En Mode Climatmovement).
Ultimately, what the outcry over this video advocating for sobriety reveals is the belief that there is necessarily an antagonism between "sobriety" and "prosperity." But the textile example shows that this opposition is not based on numerical reality: if we relocate production, we can combine the two.
Finally, by closing their eyes too much to the ecological consequences of their production, companies are sawing off the branch they are sitting on: in the long term, they will need energy to run machines, resources to supply them, and healthy people to work there... in short, the prerequisites that the ecological crisis is slowly destroying. The economy is not detached from reality: there will never be healthy businesses on a scorched planet.
To learn more:
Read the excellent book La Sobriété Gagnante by Benjamin Brice, which shows that sobriety should not be seen as a constraint but as an opportunity for our economy. If combined with an ambitious policy of relocating industrial activities, it can allow us to reduce our environmental footprint, our deficits, and our social inequalities simultaneously.
Watch this debate in which we participated and which summarizes the main arguments of the article.
Who are we to say that?
You are on La Mode à l’Envers, a blog run by the clothing brand Loom. The textile industry is in a bad way, and the planet is paying the price. So, everything we learn about the sector, we try to explain to you here. Because making sustainable clothing is good, but revealing, sharing, and inspiring is even more powerful.
We never run ads: if you like what we write and want more, subscribe to our newsletter by clicking here. We promise to write to you at most once a month.
2 3.3 billion * 83% of clothing / 67.8 million inhabitants * 99% = 40 items of clothing per inhabitant. Only 1% of textiles go unsold. See Ademe 2021 report: “Study of the sources and causes of unsold non-food items and their distribution channels” : gross unsold goods represent 4.1% of the clothing and footwear sector's turnover. 65% of these unsold items are then resold to discounters, 20% are donated to charities, 10% are recycled or repaired, and 5% are destroyed. Therefore, of these items declared as “unsold,” we can consider that a maximum of 20% will be destroyed or “downcycled” (if we consider that some donations to charities end up this way). Ultimately, destroyed unsold goods represent less than 1% of sales (20% x 4.1% = 0.8%).
3 If you include footwear and household linens, that brings the average to nearly 50 textile items per person in France.
4 In 1984, clothing consumption in France reached 1.3 billion items, or 23 garments per person. Source: 1984 INSEE survey of 7,500 households.
5 Quantis Measuring Fashion 2018 study: reaching 40% recycled fiber content would reduce greenhouse gas emissions by 5.9% and water consumption by 4.5%.
7 France's net international investment position (the country's debt to the rest of the world) stands at -€800 billion, or 32% of GDP. France is approaching the 35% of GDP ceiling set by European agreements. This is merely a convention; exceeding it would not be catastrophic in itself, but it highlights the limits that must be respected to maintain a healthy economy. It is worth noting that in the early 2000s, France was still a net creditor (meaning it had a positive net international investment position). Source.
9 While the specifics of their figures for the French market are unknown, there is no reason to believe they aren't also seeing growth.
10 Some experts also suggest that these brands missed the technological shift or failed to invest enough in their branding. This may play a role, but likely less so than the shift in consumer spending toward lower prices during this inflationary period. And if we take the example of Leclerc, not being particularly strong in branding or e-commerce does not prevent it from being the second-largest clothing retailer in France...
13 INSEE sources in FTE employees + non-employees. For 1971, we rely on the annual business survey, which estimates this number at 161,000 in clothing and 32,620 in footwear. For current employment figures, we rely on the 2009 point-of-sale survey, which estimates this number at 134,608 in clothing and 27,914 in footwear.
14 The INSEE point-of-sale study showing job losses in the retail sector dates back to 2009, when the share of online clothing sales was still limited. One could also blame large supermarkets for destroying jobs in clothing retail, but they do not account for such a large share of clothing sales: in 2011, 17% of clothing sales were made in supermarkets, according to INSEE.
15 For 30 years, clothing prices have remained relatively stable in absolute terms (between 1990 and 2020, clothing prices only rose by 15% according to INSEE), but the average income of French people has more than doubled (increase in gross disposable income per French person between 1990 and 2020: +92% according to INSEE, source). Therefore, if a retailer wants to reach a level of income comparable to that of 30 years ago, they must sell almost twice as many clothes.
18 3,462 companies registered in the RNM with activity code 95.23Z, Ademe 2022 study “Fonds réemploi réutilisation réparation de la filière TLC”, assuming one job per structure.
19 Unemployment rate Q3 2021 according to INSEE : 10.0% in the Nord, 10.2% in the Aube, 8.5% in the Vosges vs. 7.9% in metropolitan France.
20 Source INSEE 2020 : 29.7% unemployment rate among 15-64 year olds in Roubaix. With the closure of Camaïeu, which had its headquarters in Roubaix, the city is facing further hardship, falling victim more than ever to low-cost textiles.
22 It is generally accepted that one industrial job generates two to three indirect jobs with other industrial players, as well as induced jobs in the rest of the employment area within service and retail sectors. Source: Anaïs Voy-Gillis, reindustrialization specialist.
23 The Garment Workers Diaries initiative reports that between December 2021 and December 2022, Bangladeshi garment workers worked an average of 248 hours per month, or 62 hours per week (source).
24 The minimum wage in Bangladesh has just risen to 12,500 takas following recent protests. However, according to the Asian Floor Wage, the living wage is 53,104 takas, meaning the current minimum wage is 24% of the living wage. Since the living wage in France is 1,630 euros (source), it is as if someone in France were being paid 391 euros per month. Source: Clean Clothes Campaign.
In January 2019, we explained in this article how our socks came to be: 2 years of research and development with a factory in the Tarn region to create ultra-durable, made-in-France socks. How did we do it? We added "Cordura" reinforcements to high-wear areas—a military-grade yarn with exceptional abrasion resistance. This allowed us to achieve incredible lab results: resistance to over 150,000 abrasion cycles, whereas other socks would develop holes after just 10,000.
But that was just the theory.
3 years later, have these socks lived up to their promises in the real world?
It’s an interesting question to ask at this stage, because over 90% of the socks on the market last less than 3 years. We know this for a fact... because you told us so:
100% - 9% = over 90%. The math checks out, Blandine.
To find out if our socks really last longer, we simply decided to email all our customers who have owned them for at least 3 years and ask them: "Have your socks developed any holes?"
The answer:
Three-quarters of our customers haven't had a single hole in their Loom socks after 3 years. That’s already much better than the average sock, but we think they’re actually performing even better than that... Fortunately, we asked a second question: "Where did your socks develop holes?"
The answer:
Most people found holes around the Achilles tendon. This didn't surprise us much: over time, we realized that this area was essentially the... Achilles' heel of our socks.
Thanks to this customer for posing to help us explain the issue.
In the meantime, we created a second generation of these socks where we raised the Cordura reinforcement by a few centimeters (among other improvements) to protect this area from harsh friction against the back of your shoes.
Our 2nd generation socks with a higher Cordura reinforcement.
In short, these 2nd generation socks are much less likely to develop holes. If we take a stab at some clever math, we could even estimate that 84% of our customers wouldn't have worn holes in their socks after 3 years if they’d been wearing our 2nd generation ones.
In other words, if standard socks have a 1 in 10 chance of making it to the 3-year mark, ours have an 8 in 10 chance. It’s not a stretch to say our socks are 8 times more durable than the rest ;-).
“I’ll calculate the derivative, integrate the linear function, carry the 2, put down the 3, and conclude that YOUR STATISTICAL ANALYSIS IS COMPLETELY BROKEN”
To back up our number-crunching with some “qualitative” analysis, here are a few testimonials:
“I’ve never seen socks last this long; their lifespan is at least 10 times longer than the ones I had before.” - Martin
“I can hardly believe they still don’t have any holes.” - Elisabeth
“I was a career soldier, and I was provided with socks to go with my uniform the whole time. Twelve years after leaving active duty, I threw away the last pair I was issued. That’s how solid those products were. And after that... despair!! It was impossible to find socks that lasted more than a year. Then I discovered Loom, and I found socks that last and are actually comfortable, too.” - Marc
The bottom line: we can confirm that yes, our socks have kept their promise of longevity in the real world.
Could we make even tougher socks? Maybe by replacing the cotton entirely with polyamide, or by using a much thicker fabric... in short, by making technical socks. But our goal is to make everyday city socks, not to outfit your friends who have become obsessed with trail running (yes, we have friends like that too).
Anyway, while we’re generally advocates of “we can always do better,” we’re going to stop here with these socks. We think we’ve found the perfect balance between comfort (which is what we hear from those who wear them), quality (they are significantly more durable than average), and ethics (made in France with organic cotton).
What this means is that there won’t be a next “generation.” This is the first time we’ve been able to write that on our website:
Yes, the “final” generation!
We know some people who don’t ask themselves the same questions we do.
These socks are the first to reach this milestone, but other items in our collection will very likely reach their final generation in the coming months as well. For example, we think there isn’t much left to improve on our boxer briefs, our oxford shirt, our chino or our belt for example. It’s normal: we’ve been developing, testing, selling, and improving our clothes for 6 years, so there’s bound to be a point where the saying “perfect is the enemy of good” rings true.
“Does that mean these products will never evolve again?”
No, because we will always have to slightly adjust our fits, size charts, and colors, production after production – and that will never stop. But there won’t be any more major changes: if you buy a sock today and another one in 5 years, they’ll make a perfect pair—they’ll look exactly the same.
In any case, even though we’ve significantly improved these socks, the price hasn’t budged: the final generation of these ultra-durable, made-in-France socks is still €12.
Other things that have changed between the first and second generation of our socks
- Switched from a tag to a band: originally, we attached our tag with a small stitch. But some people were damaging their socks when removing it. So, we replaced the sewn-on tag with a band.
- Switched to a honeycomb elastic: for the first generation of these socks, we used a narrow, strong elastic to keep them from slipping. For some calves, it was too tight. For the second version, we replaced that elastic with a wide honeycomb band, which distributes the tension over a larger area. This provides the same hold without the tightness. Plus, it looks better.
- Added size labels to the sole: oh yes: at first, our socks were plain, with no markings at all. We believe this anonymity caused serious tension in couples and families where multiple members were fans of Loom socks. Following our instinct for disruptive innovation, we courageously added the size to the sole of the foot.
- Reinforced the ankle bone: the area where the 3 different threads meet can be a weak point, especially if the foot is a bit wide or if you’ve chosen a size that’s a little too small. We reduced this issue by raising the reinforcement under the foot so it better protects the ankle bone.
Switched to organic cotton: at first, we used conventional (i.e., “non-organic”) cotton. But in the meantime, we realized that it was really a bad idea, and we changed it.
Dozens of you have brought this to our attention: our raw denim jean (the darkest one) bleeds. Sometimes with disastrous results, like the time it stained a customer's sofa (which was beige) ((and had non-removable covers)).
It’s true—like almost all jeans, ours are dyed with indigo. Unlike most cotton dyes, which are "reactive" and penetrate the core of the fibers, indigo is a "pigment" dye that stays on the surface of the thread without fully soaking in. This is actually what makes jeans look so good: the color is slightly irregular and develops a patina in areas where there is friction... in short, it evolves.
The issue is that when you buy a pair of raw jeans (= neither factory-faded nor washed at home yet), the indigo color can sometimes transfer onto surfaces they come into contact with: skin, clothing... and sofas.
We specify in our care instructions that you should be careful and avoid wearing them with your pristine white shoes when it’s raining... but that isn't always enough. From time to time, you tell us you are disappointed by the color bleeding of these raw jeans.
So we asked ourselves two questions:
Do our jeans really bleed more than others? (If so, it means we need to find a new way of working with our denim supplier)
How can you minimize color bleeding in raw denim jeans?
The goal of this article is to answer those questions using our own in-house tests.
Yes, our jeans bleed, but no more than jeans from other brands.
In fact, when our customers tell us their jeans have "bled," it usually refers to two different things: 1- bleeding in water: when you wash your white t-shirts with your jeans and they come out blue, and 2- color transfer through friction: when you rub your hands on your thighs and they—too—turn blue.
To see if our jeans bleed more than others, I soaked jeans from several brands (including our own, of course) for an hour, stirring each one for 4 minutes, and then compared the color of the soak water.
"We are the champions, we are the champions, we are - we are - we are the champions"
Great news: out of the 4 brands of jeans I tested, ours bled the least.
The color transfer friction test
It’s great to see that the Loom jean bleeds the least, but I wanted to run a second test to be absolutely sure: the friction test. For this, I manually rubbed each jean with white fabric for exactly 3 minutes, then compared the color of the fabrics.
The result is less glorious than the first test: among the 4 jeans tested, the Muji jean bled the least. On the other hand, the Loom jean bled just as much as two others: the COS and the Levi’s.
A cold shower.
Based on these two tests, there is nothing to be alarmed about: our jeans do bleed, but no more than those from other brands. There is no reason to change our manufacturing process with our supplier (which would be very difficult and extremely expensive to do anyway…).
Our tips to keep your jeans from bleeding
Well, there’s no doubt about it: our jeans bleed. But are there techniques you can use at home to better set the dye? I found plenty of "old wives' tales" online: soaking your jeans in a basin of water with vinegar or coarse salt, washing them at high temperatures… But do they actually work?
You’re starting to get to know me; I tested all these methods. And since our jeans bleed very little in water, I focused on the friction-based color transfer tests. To do this, I cut 6 squares from our jeans:
New jean,
New jean washed 3 times at 30°C and air-dried,
New jean soaked overnight in water and vinegar, rinsed the next day, and air-dried,
New jean soaked overnight in salt water, rinsed the next day, and air-dried,
New jean soaked overnight in salt water + vinegar, rinsed the next day, and air-dried,
New jean washed 3 times at 60°C and air-dried.
To improve my friction test, I had the idea of using my electric sander by replacing the sandpaper with white fabric, and "sanding" each square for 3 minutes. The advantage of this improved method is twofold: the results are much more pronounced, and I save my wrist from strain.
The result is clear: the best trick to prevent your jeans from bleeding is to wash them 3 times at 60°C (6). The jean soaked overnight in salt water (4) also shows very good results, followed by the jean washed 3 times at 30°C (2). On the other hand, the jeans soaked overnight in vinegar water with or without salt (3 and 5) show no conclusive results: they bleed just as much as the new jean (1).
Conclusion
The most effective way to limit color transfer from friction is to wash your jeans 3 times at 60°C. However, I don't recommend this at all because 1- you will significantly fade the color of your jeans (they will lose their beautiful raw look) and 2- they might shrink in your washing machine.
The jeans washed 3 times at 60°C (square 6 on the right) faded the most. The jeans washed 3 times at 30°C (square 2) faded very little compared to the new jeans (square 1). The jeans soaked in vinegar and/or salt water did not fade. Honestly, if you wash your jeans 3 times at 60°C, you might as well just buy stone-washed jeans (already faded at the factory)! It amounts to the same thing and is much less hassle.
So, if you want to better set the dye AND keep your jeans looking raw and beautiful, I recommend the salt water method: soak your new jeans overnight in a basin of lukewarm water with a cup of coarse salt (salt acts as a color fixative). Then, wash them at 30°C with other dark clothes and let them air dry.
But it’s never a total miracle: raw denim, regardless of the brand, will bleed the first few times you wear it. This means that until you’ve washed them at least three times, avoid wearing white sneakers or sitting on light-colored sofas.
And if you don't want to worry about all that, I suggest opting for jeans that are already factory-faded, like stone-washed (a slightly lighter wash than raw) or bleached (where the jeans are much paler) because they will bleed much less.
My name is Claire and I am in charge of production monitoring at Loom. Basically, I try to prevent stock shortages on our site (well, it's not perfect yet, but I'm working on it) and I ensure throughout the manufacturing stages that the clothes meet our quality standards. Beyond that, I am passionate about everything that helps extend the lifespan of our clothes: care, repairs, and other old-school tips. I love giving clothes a little extra soul, reworking them, repairing them, and giving them a second chance when no one else wants them. On these pages, I will try to share what I know that might be useful to you. One last thing: I have personally tested all the tips you will find on this site to make sure they actually work (in other words, this isn't just a copy-paste of internet searches). If you have any new ones to suggest, don't hesitate to leave a comment below this article.
May 23, 2022. We click the “send” button that releases the newsletter announcing the launch of our male denim pants. At first, nothing revolutionary for a clothing brand. Except that these pants are a little bit special: the dreaded crotch blow out should appear later than on other jeans. To get there, we have worked for three years, invented a new wear test with our laboratory and finally developed our own fabric in the Vosges mountains. Let us walk you through the process.
Crotch blow out: a denim's plague
Before starting the manufacturing of our jeans, we sent you a small questionnaire: "What is usually the problem with your jeans?” And to a simple question, a simple answer: the problem is the crotch blow out.That's right: when you walk, your thigh rubs against the other thigh (or rather: against the bottom of your buttock), which weakens the fabric of the jeans and eventually perforates them.To make our own, we first had to understand why some jeans get holes faster than others. Our first reflex: skim the hundreds of web articles dedicated to crotch blow out. But on the websites and forums we visited, nobody agreed: fabric that is too thin, presence of elastane, bad cotton quality, cut that is too tight, seams that are too thick, humidity due to perspiration...
And then one day, we had a revelation: what if the truth about holes in jeans lies... in chino pants. We've been selling our Loom chino pants since 2019, and we know one thing for sure: crotch blow out is not a thing with chino pants, and the few customers who have experienced it are heavy bike or motorcycle riders - in other words, our chinos don't have holes from the friction of walking.
So the question was simple: what are the specifics of jeans versus chinos that could explain the crotch blow out with jeans?
Looking for the explanation
This question allowed us to eliminate most of the hypotheses found online:
Jeans have holes because they are too thin: no, chinos are generally thinner than a pair of jeans.
Jeans have holes because they are too tight in the thighs: no, in the crotch area, jeans and chinos are more or less cut the same way.
Jeans have holes because of exogenous factors (moisture due to perspiration, tension when moving...): no, unless proven wrong, we do almost the same thing with jeans as with chino pants.
Jeans have holes because they have elastane: no, like most jeans, most chinos contain some percentage of elastane for comfort.
Jeans have holes because their cotton is of poor quality: no, there is no reason why the cotton fibers used in jeans should be shorter or of lower quality than those used in chinos.
Jeans have holes because their yarns are of lower quality: no, even if it is true that a part of the jeans were woven since the 70's with "open-end" yarns (cheaper and maybe less resistant to abrasion), 95% of the jeans are nowadays woven with traditional "ringspun" yarns, most probably like chinos.
We were left with only two hypotheses to test:
Hypothesis #1: The double seam. The inner leg seam of jeans is thicker than that of chinos - a double seam could cause more intense chafing than with chinos.
Suspect n°1: the jeans' double seam
Hypothesis #2: Roughness. The threads of jeans are thicker than those of chinos: their fabric is therefore rougher. When one thigh rubs against the other, it's a bit like a piece of sandpaper rubbing against the fabric.
Suspect n°2: the roughness of the jeans (not that sweet little horse)
Our lab tests
To test our hypotheses, we decided to simulate this friction in a laboratory, with a test called "Martindale": a machine rubs the fabric until a hole appears. The result is counted in number of cycles: the higher the number, the more resistant the fabric.
A Martindale machine in action.
To begin with, we wanted to check that the Martindale test simulates what happens in real life: we sent pieces of jeans fabric and of chino fabric to our lab to check that, in lab conditions, jeans get holes faster than chinos as well.But when we received the results, we were surprised: in the lab, the jean fabric had lasted twice as long as the chino fabric (100,000 vs. 50,000 cycles). The opposite of what happens in real life...So we thought for a second: this Martindale test cannot simulate what really happens to the crotch, since it uses the same standard "abrasive wool" to rub against the fabric. But when you walk, the fabric rubs against itself! We called our lab and came up with another type of test, where we replace the abrasive wool with the fabric itself. After some adjustments on the right pressure level in the machine, this test will answer to the sweet name of "Fabric abrasion resistance Martindale method modified fabric against fabric, pressure 12 kPa". A few days later, the results of the new test were in:
Bingo! We had found a laboratory test that simulates what happens in real life: chinos are (at least) three times more resistant than jeans to friction: 100,000 vs. 35,000 cycles.So we could move on to the next step: testing our two hypotheses to find the cause of these holes on your jeans.To test the first hypothesis (the double sewing of the jeans), we replaced the single fabric with a fabric with sewing on the Martindale machine... When we received the results, we realized that it did not change anything: the sewing does not weaken the fabric.
Suspect found not guilty.
No holes after 100,000 cycles.
By elimination, only one suspect remained: roughness. To check this hypothesis, we decided to have several types of jeans tested: smooth jeans and rough jeans. And all the results confirmed that the thicker and rougher the jeans, the faster they get holes:
The thinnest jeans we found (Muji brand) resist very well: they exceed 100 000 cycles.
Thicker raw jeans (Uniqlo brand) do not resist very well: 35 000 cycles. On the other hand, when we make the fabric less rough manually with sandpaper before sending it to be tested, it holds much better and also exceeds 100 000 cycles!
Jeans that are quite rough because of the use of an "open end" thread do not hold very well: only 16,000 cycles.
Raw jeans and their washed equivalent (and thus less rough): the first one holds 70 000 cycles, much less than the second one, which breaks at 100 000 cycles.
In short, after several months of testing (and a few thousand euros spent...), we had identified the culprit: roughness. Exactly the opposite of what we would have thought intuitively: thick cowboy jeans are more likely to experience crotch blowout than thin jeans.
Had they known, all the cowboys would have worn yoga pants.
Then, we just had to develop our fabric. We had two options:
Test a lot of existing fabrics from suppliers and choose the best one.
Develop our own fabric: more uncertain, slower, more expensive... but with the hope of creating a fabric perhaps more powerful than those that already exist!
You can already guess what we chose, right?
Going to Les Vosges
Finding a factory that would agree to make such a development with us was not supposed to be an easy ride. It takes time, money and we are not Levi's: at first, we hoped to order max 10,000 meters of fabric per year, that is to say a little more than 100,000 euros... Economically not very interesting for a manufacturer.However, Tissage de France, the factory in the Vosges region of France that manufactures the jeans for the brand 1083, immediately agreed to work with us on this project. The deal was: we share the development costs, and if it works, the factory will be able to reuse everything we learned together in other projects with other customers (this is what we had already done successfully when we developed our cotton socks).
Us in the Vosges with Tissage de France (six clues in this photo will help you find the year of our visit).
To develop a denim fabric that is not too rough but still keeps a nice hold, we decided to weave:
A rather thin denim (12 oz weight).
With a ringspun yarn (softer than its open-end equivalent).
And double-twisted (two threads twisted together for more resistance and hold).
All in organic cotton, of course.
But we didn't stop there: we also wanted to solve the 2nd big problem that came up in our questionnaire: the fact that jeans get loose over time. For that, instead of spinning the elastane at the same time as the cotton fibers (the classic method known as "corespun"), Denis, the director of the factory, recommended that we twist two cotton threads around a filament of elastane (the "covered" method, more expensive but seemingly more effective).
It took us a few tries to make the final adjustments (especially on the size of the elastane thread), and finally: we managed to weave a denim that holds up. If you want proof:
With the test we invented (fabric vs. fabric abrasion), our jeans exceed 200,000 cycles! That's more than any other jeans we've ever tested.
With the residual deformation test, the residual elongation after one minute is only 1.8%, which is quite honorable: on the six other jeans we tested, only one did better.
Yes, but if it's to make a solid but ugly denim, there's not much point, is there? Good news, our fabric looks like this:
A denim with just the right amount of roughness (thanks in particular to spun elastane) to give it character.
We've got it
With the development of the fabric, we had done the biggest part of the job. Because for the manufacturing part, we knew who to turn to: 5D, our Portuguese factory specialized in pants (and which manufactures for many great French brands).Compared to our fabric, our specifications were quite simple... We wanted:
A semi-slim fit.
Pockets deep enough to fit your phone and strong enough for your keys not to tear them.
A zipper fly, because it's more practical and it washes out more nicely.
A first pre-wash on the raw denim, so it doesn't shrink at home.
Reinforced belt loops.
After some back and forth on the cut, we had our jeans! Beautiful, comfortable, and solid. It was ready for production.
A satisfying fitting session.
Sidenote: Let’s talk about that price These jeans are sold for 100€. Yes, it's not cheap... but it's not that expensive: First of all, the development phase cost us a lot of money: between the lab tests, the development of weaving tests and the back and forth on the prototypes, it cost us about 10,000 euros (not counting our own work time). The fabric costs about 15 euros/meter to produce, which is almost twice as expensive as the classic made in Italy fabrics: organic cotton, ringspun, double twisted yarns, elastane yarns with a sheath rather than corespun, made in France... Our ethics and our quality choices have a cost. The confection is carefully made in Portugal, with wages much higher than 95% of the jeans on the market, mostly made in Asia or North Africa. But as we don't make any collection, nor sales, nor ads, and as our shareholders don't push us to make a big margin (more details here - if you can read French), we sell it for "only" 100 euros (for the moment - this price could change with the inflation on energy and raw materials).
Resistant, but not indestructible
It's been almost a year since we launched these jeans: we're starting to have some hindsight on how they age. First of all, the people who bought them seem very satisfied: they are rated 4.7/5 by more than 100 people, which is really great.But will these jeans resist crotch holes for eternity? No.Out of more than 2,000 jeans sold, we have already had three cases of crotch blowouts: people who regularly ride bikes or motorcycles. Now, we designed these jeans to resist well to "thigh against thigh" rubbing... but they will not be much more resistant than other jeans for "thigh against saddle" rubbing (even if, each time, the concerned customers told us that their Loom jeans pierced less quickly than the other ones they wear).And even for the rubbing related to classic walking, if they will probably resist longer than the average, it is very likely that they will also end up with a hole one day: in a nutshell, like any garment made of natural materials, these jeans will eventually wear out.
Could we make even more resistant jeans?Probably, but then we would have to use more synthetic materials: to make a stronger garment, it is often enough to replace cotton by polyester. But it is less pleasant to wear, it retains odors and especially, for the environment, we think that fashion must get rid of plastic (we talk about it here, in English).
But are these holes really that bad?
Not really. Because like all clothes, jeans can be repaired.In fact, jeans are even easier to repair than other clothes.First, their alternating blue and white threads make them visually inconsistent... so repairs can be almost invisible. To repair a crotch blowout, you can add a patch of fabric inside the jeans and then sew it with a thread of the right color... And here is the result:
Moreover, even if the repair shows a little, it's not so bad: denim experts consider that what makes the beauty of a pair of jeans is the mark of what it has been through. Washing, tears, repairs... In short, the "patina" are all scars that give it value - and that many brands try to reproduce artificially in the factory.
The A.P.C brand even sells worn jeans that are naturally more expensive than new ones.
Conclusion: let's not focus on the wrong fight
If our jeans will eventually break down and repair relatively easily, was it worth the research?We hope so: if the first holes in the crotch appear even one or two years later than with your other jeans, that’s still a win. Also, to develop these jeans, we had to understand the science behind the clothes. And that really motivates us. Finally, supporting French factories by doing R&D with them is also our most exciting and higher mission.But we have to keep a clear head: indestructible clothes don’t exist… and they never will. The most important thing to do to keep a garment for a long time is not its inner quality: it is above all how we take care of it. The clothes of our grandparents were probably much less resistant than today's. Yet they kept them much longer. Because they knew how to maintain them, repair them, mend them.We must now collectively re-learn how to take care of our clothes. Putting on a towel before eating tomato pasta, shaving the pilling from our sweaters or socks, delicately washing our woolen sweaters, sewing on our buttons, repairing tears… and mending the holes in the crotch of our jeans.In short, clothes that last a long time are above all clothes that age well.Buy less clothes, take care of them.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur.
