So what does this mean for our planet? Well, what happens to all these garments once they're old news? Do they sit at the back of our wardrobe inevitably disposed of during a "spring clean"? Or maybe we send them off to a charity shop?
Pretending we can buy ethically is is exactly what keeps sweatshops from being solved.
So consumed are we by bagging a bargain we have detached ourselves from the reality that someone, somewhere is making and
I want to be proud of what I represent (clothes are your mirror, a part of your personality), and I want to be sure I am not supporting slavery. I don't want my cheap fashion to be someone else's worst nightmare.
The strangest thing about the debate about "fast fashion" and garment factories in poor countries is that it carries on as if there were no research on the subject. Western activists rail against "sweatshops", but among researchers and economists from left to right there is a consensus that these jobs are the stepping stones out of poverty.
One of the flawed messages of fast fashion is that clothes are disposable: wear a top once or twice, tire of it and throw it away in favour of the latest look. This has direct consequences on the women who make our clothes.
With fast fashion brands, most customers assume their cheap clothes are a direct reflection of low-cost manufacturing. This is correct in some respects. As highlighted in the table, around 40% of a garment's price is allocated to its production.
After the tragedy of Rana Plaza in Bangladesh we have only seen piecemeal change for developing world garment workers - token pay rise announcements after accidents and as a result of protests. Why do we not see blanket, tangible reform?
A Norwegian TV show has forced three young fashion bloggers to confront the reality of the conditions endured by those who
A year ago this week 1,129 people lost their lives when the Rana Plaza in Bangladesh collapsed, trapping thousands of garment workers as it fell. 12 months on, much has changed, and much has remained static.