8 fast fashion brands Gen Z loves but are actually destroying the planet

Last week, I watched my roommate unbox her latest haul. Thirty pieces of clothing spilled across our living room floor, each item costing less than my morning coffee. She was giddy with excitement, already planning which outfit to wear for Saturday's Instagram post.

Here's the thing that got me: she'd just come from a climate rally the weekend before.

This is the paradox of our generation. We're the ones marching for the planet, yet we're also the biggest consumers of ultra-fast fashion. We know better, but somehow that knowledge doesn't always translate to our shopping carts.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, especially after reading Rudá Iandê's new book Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life. The book helped me understand something crucial: being human means living with contradictions.

As Rudá writes, "Being human means inevitably disappointing and hurting others, and the sooner you accept this reality, the easier it becomes to navigate life's challenges."

That doesn't mean we get a free pass on environmental destruction. But it does mean we need to face the uncomfortable truth about where we're shopping and what it's really costing the planet.

Let's talk about the brands that have perfected the art of selling cheap clothes to environmentally conscious Gen Zers.

1) Shein

Shein is the giant in the room we all need to acknowledge.

The company emitted 16.7 million metric tons of carbon dioxide in 2023. That's more than four coal power plants produce in a year. Let that sink in for a second.

What makes Shein so destructive isn't just the volume of emissions. It's the entire business model. They add up to 10,000 new items to their website daily. The average item costs $14, which seems like a bargain until you realize it comes at the expense of factory workers earning poverty wages and a supply chain that's basically an environmental nightmare.

I get the appeal. When I was broke and trying to keep up with constantly shifting TikTok trends, those $3 tops felt like a lifeline. But 76 percent of their fabrics are polyester, and only 6 percent of that is recycled. The rest is virgin plastic that will outlast us all.

The brand's use of AI to predict trends and manufacture on demand sounds innovative. In reality, it's just fast fashion on steroids, creating more waste more quickly than ever before.

2) Fashion Nova

Fashion Nova built its empire on celebrity partnerships and Instagram culture.

The brand releases 600 to 900 new styles every week. They can design and manufacture a clothing item in as little as 48 hours. That speed comes with a price tag that isn't reflected in their low prices.

A Department of Labor investigation found that Fashion Nova owed $3.8 million in back wages to workers who were making as little as $2.77 per hour. After getting caught, they simply moved most of their production overseas where labor violations are even harder to track.

The brand provides zero transparency about where their products come from, which factories they use, or what conditions workers face. They don't disclose environmental impacts, don't use sustainable materials, and show no evidence of any closed-loop capabilities.

When a company makes it impossible to trace their supply chain, there's usually a reason. And it's never a good one.

3) Boohoo

Boohoo drops over 500 new products every week.

An item can go from design to sale in two weeks, which should immediately raise questions about quality, sustainability, and labor practices. The UK's Environmental Audit Committee named them one of the least sustainable fashion brands in the country.

During the pandemic, workers in Leicester factories reported making as little as £3.50 per hour, well below minimum wage. They were also forced to work while sick with COVID-19, with barely any protective equipment provided.

The brand's business model depends on high turnover and cheap prices. That means synthetic materials that shed microplastics, excessive waste, and a culture that treats clothing as completely disposable.

I've mentioned this before but the attitude-behavior gap in our generation is real. We say we care about sustainability, then we order from brands like Boohoo because they're convenient and affordable. Breaking that pattern requires actually looking at what these companies do, not just what they claim.

4) Zara

Zara pioneered the fast fashion model that everyone else copied.

In the 1990s, they revolutionized the industry by bringing designs from runway to store in just 15 days. Now they release 6,850 new items annually, creating constant demand for the next trend.

The brand's environmental impact comes from sheer scale. While they've made some sustainability promises, their core business model is built on rapid production and high volume. That means enormous water consumption, significant carbon emissions from transportation, and massive amounts of textile waste.

Zara has tried to move upmarket recently, raising prices and partnering with haute couture designers. But that doesn't change the fundamental problem with producing thousands of new styles every year.

The brand uses lower-quality materials to keep prices accessible, which means clothes don't last. They're designed for one season, maybe two, before they fall apart or go out of style.

5) H&M

H&M launched 4,400 new items in 2022 alone.

The Swedish giant has been trying to rebrand as more sustainable, launching recycling programs and conscious collections. But their business model still depends on convincing consumers to buy more, more, more.

The company's transparency reports show they're aware of problems but not solving them fast enough. Factory audits consistently reveal labor violations, and science-based emissions targets aren't being met.

The company's stores are deliberately designed to encourage impulse purchases. New inventory arrives constantly, creating artificial urgency to buy now before items sell out. It's a psychological trick that works incredibly well on our generation.

H&M wants credit for their sustainability initiatives while continuing to produce massive quantities of cheap clothing. You can't have it both ways.

6) Pretty Little Thing

Pretty Little Thing is owned by Boohoo, which should tell you everything you need to know.

The brand targets young women with ultra-trendy pieces at rock-bottom prices. They've mastered social media marketing, using influencers to create constant desire for new outfits.

Like its parent company, Pretty Little Thing operates on an ultra-fast fashion model. The environmental impact isn't just theoretical, it's measurable in the tons of textile waste generated and the carbon emissions from rapid production and global shipping.

The brand provides minimal information about labor practices or environmental policies. That lack of transparency is a red flag the size of my apartment.

What bothers me most is how these brands market themselves to women my age who genuinely care about social justice. They know we want to look good and make ethical choices, so they greenwash their image while changing nothing fundamental about their operations.

7) Temu

Temu is the new player disrupting even Shein's ultra-fast model.

The platform operates like a shopping mall where you wander aimlessly, except it's designed with algorithms that know exactly what you want before you do. Prices are absurdly low, quality is questionable at best, and the environmental cost is astronomical.

Because Temu is a marketplace rather than a single brand, it's even harder to track the environmental and labor impacts. Thousands of suppliers compete to offer the lowest prices, which inevitably means corners get cut.

The carbon footprint from air shipping alone is massive. Individual packages flying from China to customers worldwide creates emissions that dwarf traditional retail models.

I haven't ordered from Temu, but I see their packages in my building's trash room constantly. That tells me everything about how disposable these products are.

8) Forever 21

Forever 21 has been around longer than most fast fashion brands, but that doesn't make them any better.

The company operates on the same principle: rapid trend replication at the lowest possible price. They've been accused of copying independent designers, exploiting overseas workers, and contributing to massive amounts of textile waste.

Despite declaring bankruptcy in 2019 and supposedly restructuring, the brand's fundamental approach hasn't changed. They still produce cheap clothing made from synthetic materials in factories with questionable labor practices.

The brand provides minimal transparency about their supply chain or environmental impact. After decades in business, that lack of disclosure is a choice, not an oversight.

The bottom line

Look, I'm not claiming moral superiority here.

I've bought fast fashion. I understand the appeal of staying on trend without emptying your bank account. I know what it's like to want something new for Friday night and not being able to afford sustainable alternatives.

But we need to stop pretending this contradiction doesn't exist. Our generation can't march for climate action on Saturday and fill our carts with Shein hauls on Sunday. The cognitive dissonance is real, and it's costing the planet.

The truth is, individual choices matter, but systemic change matters more. These brands exist because we buy from them, but they also exist because governments haven't regulated them and because sustainable fashion remains inaccessible to most people.

Real change requires both personal accountability and pushing for systemic solutions. That means buying less, choosing quality over quantity when you can afford it, and demanding that fashion brands operate transparently and sustainably.

The planet can't afford for us to keep clicking "add to cart" without asking where these clothes come from and where they'll end up. It's time we all took a harder look at the brands we're supporting and started making choices that actually align with the values we claim to hold.