The Secrets of Dead White Man’s Clothes - Textile Waste and the Illusion of Greenwashing
In today’s fashion landscape, trends change rapidly and clothing is consumed with little regard for longevity. The result? A mounting global crisis of textile waste. While many believe that donating old clothes is a sustainable solution, the reality is far more complex.
Across several countries in the Global South, particularly in Africa, mountains of secondhand garments — mostly from wealthier nations — end up clogging local markets, landfills, and shorelines. This phenomenon has come to be known as “Dead White Man’s Clothes,” a phrase rooted in the Ghanaian expression “Obroni Wawu” — literally translated as “clothes of the dead white man.” While initially used to describe the resale of Western garments, the term now reflects deep frustrations over the burden of textile waste unfairly shifted onto developing countries.
This blog post explores the hidden life of discarded clothing, the environmental and socio-economic toll of textile waste, and the rising trend of greenwashing by major fashion brands. It aims to unpack these complex issues to advocate for genuine, long-term sustainability in the fashion industry.
Textile Waste: A Hidden Epidemic
The scale of global textile waste is staggering. According to the Ellen MacArthur Foundation, the fashion industry generates more than 92 million tonnes of textile waste annually, with most of it ending up in landfills or being incinerated. In high-income countries, consumers often discard clothes after only a few wears. In the United States, for instance, the average person throws away more than 35 kilograms of clothing each year. While donation bins and clothing drives may appear to offer a sustainable solution, only a small fraction of donated garments are resold locally. The majority are shipped to countries in the Global South, where they are either sold in secondhand markets or discarded once more due to poor quality or cultural irrelevance.
These discarded clothes follow a global supply chain that ironically begins at the end of a product’s life. Bales of secondhand garments arrive by the container-load in ports across East and West Africa, where local traders purchase them without knowing exactly what is inside. Upon opening these bales, many discover clothing that is too damaged or cheap to resell — a direct result of fast fashion’s prioritization of volume over quality. What cannot be sold is often dumped, burned, or left to rot in open spaces.
Dead White Man’s Clothes: A Crisis Disguised as Charity
The phrase “Dead White Man’s Clothes” may sound provocative, but it reflects a grim reality: what is framed as a charitable act of donation is often a one-sided transaction that imposes economic, environmental, and social costs on recipient communities.
In Ghana’s bustling Kantamanto Market — one of the largest secondhand clothing markets in the world — more than 15 million garments arrive every week. While some of these items do find new life with local buyers, nearly 40% are deemed unsellable and become instant waste.
The cultural implications of this influx are significant. Imported clothing often displaces traditional attire, weakening indigenous fashion identities. Economically, the dominance of secondhand clothes undermines local textile industries and garment workers, making it difficult for domestic businesses to compete. What was once a thriving sector producing handmade, culturally rooted garments has now been reduced to selling cheap imports for marginal profit.
Environmentally, the consequences are devastating. Unsold clothes are frequently dumped in illegal landfills or wash into rivers and oceans. In Accra, mounds of textile waste clog drainage systems and contribute to flooding during rainy seasons. The materials used in fast fashion — especially synthetic fibers like polyester and acrylic — do not biodegrade, meaning these “donations” will linger in ecosystems for centuries.
The Greenwashing Problem: When Sustainability Becomes a Marketing Ploy
In response to growing awareness about fashion’s environmental impact, many brands have adopted sustainability as a central message. Campaigns touting organic cotton, recycled collections, and eco-friendly packaging have become ubiquitous. However, behind many of these promises lies a troubling trend: greenwashing. This refers to the practice of making misleading claims about the environmental benefits of a product or company in order to appear more sustainable than they actually are.
A common greenwashing tactic is the use of vague terminology. Phrases like “green,” “sustainable,” or “environmentally conscious” are frequently used without clear definitions or verifiable standards. Many brands promote capsule eco-collections that represent only a fraction of their total output while continuing mass production of low-cost, disposable fashion. Similarly, take-back schemes — where consumers are encouraged to return old garments — often lack transparency. While these programs claim to recycle or repurpose clothing, the reality is that many of these items are either incinerated or re-enter the same problematic global secondhand market.
Furthermore, some fashion companies rely on carbon offsetting to justify continued overproduction. Rather than changing core practices, they purchase carbon credits to compensate for emissions — a solution that may look good on paper but does little to address the root problem. In truth, authentic sustainability in fashion requires systemic change, not superficial branding.
What True Sustainability Should Look Like?
Tackling textile waste requires more than recycling bins and marketing slogans. It demands a fundamental shift in how clothes are produced, consumed, and disposed of. A sustainable fashion industry must operate within the principles of a circular economy — one that designs products for longevity, facilitates reuse and repair, and ensures materials can be reintegrated into the production cycle.
Equally important is the empowerment of local textile economies in the Global South. By investing in regional garment production and supporting traditional artisans, countries can reclaim control over their fashion narratives. This not only preserves cultural identity but also strengthens economic resilience.
Transparency must also become a non-negotiable standard. Brands should publish clear data on sourcing, labor conditions, and waste management practices. Independent certifications and audits are essential to validate environmental claims and hold companies accountable.
The Role of the Conscious Consumer
While policy and corporate accountability are critical, individual action also plays a key role in transforming fashion. Consumers must rethink the way they engage with clothing — not just as items to wear, but as products with environmental and social footprints. Donating clothes should not be seen as an ethical loophole for overconsumption. Instead, buyers should aim to reduce the frequency of purchases, invest in high-quality pieces, and prioritize reuse and repair over disposal.
Before making a purchase, consumers should ask themselves:
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Do I truly need this item?
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Will it last more than a few seasons?
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Can I find a similar piece through secondhand platforms or local artisans?
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Is the brand transparent about its practices?
Minimalism, wardrobe rotation, and upcycling — turning old garments into new creations — are practical steps towards a more responsible fashion culture. Education and awareness are key. By understanding the real cost of fast fashion, consumers can make choices that support ethical production and reduce environmental harm.
Conclusion: From Waste to Responsibility
The story of Dead White Man’s Clothes reveals a profound imbalance in how the world deals with textile waste — and who pays the price.
What begins as overconsumption in the Global North becomes an environmental and economic burden for the Global South. While fashion brands increasingly tout sustainability, many continue harmful practices behind a veil of greenwashing. Real change will only come when transparency, responsibility, and circularity become the standard — not the exception.
Addressing textile waste is not just a fashion issue; it’s a question of global equity, environmental justice, and economic sustainability. Consumers, policymakers, and brands must work together to rethink our relationship with clothing. Only then can we begin to mend not just our garments, but the fabric of global environmental stewardship itself.
Thank you.