This article is authored by Tishya Dey, a second year B.A. LL.B. (Hon’s) student at the National Law University and Judicial Academy, Assam.

Introduction

Fast fashion, the promise of runway trends at rock-bottom prices, has redefined the way we consume clothing. Yet behind the industry’s glittering store fronts lies a sobering fact: fashion is one of the world’s most polluting industries, generating almost 92 million tonnes of textile waste annually. Until now, this burden has been quietly shifted onto municipal waste systems, taxpayers and developing nations through mountains of discarded clothes.

The EU’s new textile policy aims to change this narrative. At its core is the principle of Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR), a legal tool that places the onus of waste management onto those who profit most from production – the brands themselves. If implemented robustly, EPR may do what consumer activism alone has not, force fast fashion giants to internalise the true environmental costs of their cheap, disposable clothing.

What is Extended Producer Responsibility?

The concept of EPR is not new, it has been rooted in EU waste management policy for decades targeting packaging, batteries and electronics. The Waste Framework Directive or Directive (2008/98/EC) requires Member States to ensure that producers bear financial and/or organisational responsibility for the treatment of waste generated by their products. The logic is simple – if you manufacture, sell, and profit from a product, you should also pay for its environmental consequences. What is new and transformative is its extension to textiles through the new Textiles Strategy and revisions under the Circular Economy Action Plan.

The Legal Architecture

The revised Waste Framework Directive mandates separate collection of textile waste by 2025 and impose clear duties on producers: a financial responsibility through eco-modulation, proper reporting and transparency. Brands will now pay fees based on the quantity of textiles they place on the EU market which will fund collection, sorting, reuse and recycling infrastructure. Those who design longer-lasting, recyclable or repairable garments may pay reduced fees while those relying on low-cost, poor-quality textiles will pay more. They are now obligated to extend to labelling, data disclosure and digital product passports to track material origins and recycling pathways.

However, without harmonised enforcement across the EU Member States, these obligations risk uneven uptake. Some countries may aggressively enforce them, while others lag behind creating regulatory loopholes and market distortion. Small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) may also struggle with compliance costs unless transitional funding or simplified frameworks are introduced.

France’s national EPR scheme for textiles which has been operating since 2008, offers a template and a cautionary tale for newbie countries. While the French regime successfully increased collection rates and channelled funds into recycling infrastructure, critics note administrative complexity and persistent dumping of used textiles to developing countries. These lessons highlight the need for EU-wide coordination.

Fast Fashion And EPR

The Issue and its Response

For decades, fast fashion brands like H&M, Zara (Inditex), Primark and more recently Shein, rely on a business model premised on cheap inputs, just-in-time manufacturing and relentless consumer churn. They release dozens of micro-seasons annually, encouraging shoppers to buy often and discard quickly. EPR fundamentally threatens this model by embedding the polluter pays principle into fashion supply chains.

Faced with these obligations, leading brands have pivoted swiftly to high-visibility sustainability campaigns. In-store take-back schemes have proliferated like H&M inviting shoppers to drop off old clothes in exchange for vouchers and Zara promising more recycled fibres in new collections. Yet the legal reality is less rosy than the glossy marketing.

Academic studies and NGO reports repeatedly show that only a fraction of collected textiles are truly recycled into new clothing. Most still ends up downcycled into insulation or exported to the Global South, where vast quantities are dumped or burned. Without stringent enforcement and clear recycling standards, EPR risks becoming yet another vector for green washing – sustainability in name only. Mandatory independent audits and harmonised recycling metrics would strengthen transparency, while penalties for misleading environmental claims could curb green washing.

Some brands may also seek to externalise compliance costs by pushing the financial burden down their supply chains – typically to garment workers and factories in Bangladesh, India, or Vietnam. This creates a legal and ethical dilemma: Can the EU’s EPR framework prevent powerful brands from displacing environmental costs onto already precarious workers in the Global South?

E-Commerce giants and Cross-Border loopholes

Another critical weakness lies in the cross-border nature of modern retail. Ultra-fast fashion players like Shein rely heavily on direct-to-consumer online sales, often bypassing traditional importers or brick-and-mortar stores. Enforcing EPR rules against such decentralised, digital-first actors poses real regulatory headaches. If a non-EU brand sells directly to EU consumers, which Member State will compel compliance and how?

The EU must ensure that customs authorities, online marketplaces, and national regulators coordinate effectively to close potential loopholes. Without this, EPR obligations risk unfairly penalising compliant EU-based brands while leaving rogue players largely untouched. The EU could require online marketplaces to verify producer compliance at the sale and co-ordinate customs data-sharing to prevent non-EU actors from bypassing obligations.

Does EPR actually reduce waste?

The central question remains: Will EPR meaningfully reduce textile waste, or merely tax it?

Supporters argue that legal penalties for excessive waste will incentivise design innovation – mono-material garments, durable fabrics, easy reparability. However, critics caution that without complementary measures to address overproduction and overconsumption, EPR alone cannot reverse the damage of the linear make-use-dispose model. Consumer behaviour is equally decisive. If cheap clothes remain abundant, the legal cost may simply be absorbed as a business expense, passed on to shoppers or hidden in supply chain corners least able to bear it. Complementary strategies such as repair subsidies, consumer awareness campaigns and minimum durability standards are necessary for EPR to function efficiently by addressing the core idea of overconsumption.

Through Different Lenses

Global Ripple Effects

In practice, the EU’s textile EPR rules act as a de facto extra-territorial regulation: brands sourcing from Asia or Africa must align design, labelling, and reporting with EU standards to retain access to the lucrative Single Market. Some view this as a powerful tool for improving global environmental standards. Others warn it risks becoming a form of eco–protectionism that could unfairly burden developing nations.

These concerns are not abstract. East African countries have already raised objections to EU‑style restrictions on second‑hand clothing imports, arguing such measures undermine local markets and violate trade fairness. Similarly, exporting nations like Bangladesh, a major garment hub, worry about compliance costs trickling down to already underpaid workers.

The EU could partner with these exporting nations by funding local recycling infrastructure and providing technical expertise to upgrade waste management systems in the countries. This would allow them to meet higher sustainability standards without bearing disproportionate costs, prevent the perception of eco-protectionism, foster joint research initiatives and create new green jobs in textile-producing regions.

For instance, Kenya’s textile recycling initiative by US-based company PurFi demonstrate how shared technology and funding can upgrade local waste systems rather than merely push waste offshore. In Bangladesh, projects like the Circular Fashion Partnership (supported by Global Fashion Agenda) show how collaboration between brands, recyclers, and policymakers can close material loops without undermining local industries.

A Legal Perspective

From a legal standpoint, the EU’s textile EPR policy is both overdue and insufficient. Fast fashion has long exploited the absence of waste accountability creating a regulatory gap that let brands externalise costs that society at large absorbs. But it does not tackle root causes like the unchecked scale of production and the hyper-consumerist culture that fuels it.

EPR alone cannot do. It must be combined with stricter eco-design rules, bans and fines on waste dumping in the Global South, minimum durability standards and stronger consumer laws against misleading green claims. Only then can it fulfil its promise as a credible legal instrument for transforming fashion from linear waste to circular economy.

Embedding EPR within global sustainability frameworks like the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals, specifically SDG 12 (Responsible Consumption and Production) and SDG 13 (Climate Action), could strengthen its legitimacy beyond EU. When these policies are aligned with international trade rules, particularly under World Trade Organisation, the EU can also avoid the eco-protectionism accusations and encourage other regions in adopting similar standards. Over time, these could lay the groundwork for a co-ordinated global approach to textile waste.

Should India and others follow the EU’s lead?

For India which is both a global garment exporter and a fast‑growing consumer market, the EU’s EPR model raises an urgent question: should similar rules be adopted domestically?

India already has EPR frameworks for plastics and e‑waste but none for textiles, even as post‑consumer waste mounts. A textile‑specific EPR could stimulate recycling industries, formalise hubs and pre‑align Indian exporters with EU standards, reducing future trade friction.

A crucial advantage is India’s vast informal recycling network consisting of waste pickers, kabadiwaalas, and junkyard operators, who already manage much of the country’s solid waste. Integrating them into formal systems with fair pay, training, and access to better technology could rapidly scale textile recycling while improving livelihoods.

The challenge lies in India’s fragmented textile ecosystem, dominated by small manufacturers and artisans who may struggle with eco‑modulated fees and compliance burdens. Without phased implementation and targeted support, EPR risks hurting these actors more than the large fast‑fashion exporters it seeks to regulate.

Conclusion

Ultimately, the EU’s EPR push is not merely an environmental policy, it is a legal recalibration of accountability in global supply chains. For fast fashion brands, it marks the end of an era in which waste was someone else’s problem. But while EPR stitches accountability into the seams of fashion law, whether it can patch over a culture built on disposability remains uncertain.

Its success will depend not only on how strictly the law is enforced, but on whether it can withstand industry pushback, avoid green washing traps and extend its reach to digital-first retailers and offshore manufacturers.

Along with regulatory compliances, the public at large also needs to be aware. It is the choices made by the people while shopping that would matter the most since the root cause at the end of the day is overconsumption. Consumers and workers need to support repair initiatives, demand transparency and hold the companies accountable for a real world change.

In the end, the question is not whether fast fashion can afford to change. It’s whether the planet can afford it if it doesn’t.