How Trump’s trade war supercharged fashion waste and environmental damage

When former US President Donald Trump introduced wide-ranging tariffs on Chinese imports, the intention was clear: bring manufacturing back to the United States and safeguard domestic employment.

However, the process of re-shoring manufacturing is complicated and lengthy. It demands years of investment, planning, and infrastructure rebuilding—a timeframe ill-suited to the hyper-responsive world of ultra-fast fashion.

Instead of re-shoring production, many fashion brands simply pivoted. During Trump's first term, numerous clothing companies began shifting production out of China, favouring countries such as Vietnam and Cambodia to avoid the initial tariffs.

This trend only accelerated with the implementation of newer "reciprocal" tariffs. In practice, brands started sourcing from countries offering the lowest total cost post-tariffs rather than bringing production home. As a result, the ultra-fast fashion industry not only adapted but became even more exploitative in its quest for low costs and quick turnarounds.

From Guangzhou to your wardrobe

Brands like Shein and Temu built their empires on delivering trend-driven clothing at jaw-droppingly low prices. A USD 5 dress or USD 3 top may appear to be a steal, but the real cost is borne elsewhere.

Much of Shein's manufacturing takes place in the "Shein village" in Guangzhou, China. Here, factory workers reportedly toil for 12 to 14 hours daily in poor conditions, all to keep up with relentless consumer demand for new fashion items.

Trump’s tariffs aimed to make American-made goods more competitive by increasing the cost of Chinese imports—sometimes as high as 145 per cent. One target was the "de minimis" loophole, which previously allowed imports valued under USD 800 to enter the US duty-free. Though these policies were designed to curtail Chinese imports, they merely redirected production to countries with fewer trade barriers and even lower labour costs.

For instance, the Philippines emerged as an unexpected beneficiary due to its lower 17 percent tariff rate. However, the country lacks the industrial capacity and logistics network that China offers, raising questions about its sustainability as a long-term alternative.

Why Australia became a fashion hotspot

While the US cracked down, ultra-fast fashion brands redirected their focus toward other lucrative markets, including Australia.

Australia remains an ideal destination for fast fashion. The country allows most low-value imports to enter tax-free, creating fertile ground for Shein, Temu and similar platforms to flourish. Australian consumers are now among the most frequent buyers per capita of these platforms globally.

With only 3 percent of clothing made domestically, the vast majority of fashion labels depend on overseas production. Combine that with high purchasing power, relatively relaxed import laws, and a cost-of-living crisis, and the appeal of ultra-affordable fashion becomes clear.

The hidden costs of a Bargain

The environmental damage associated with fast fashion is well-documented. Yet amid Trump’s chaotic tariff policy changes and his administration's retreat from environmental commitments, less attention has been paid to how these policies worsen environmental harms.

Ironically, tariffs aimed at protecting American jobs have, in some cases, degraded labour conditions elsewhere. Factory workers in low-cost production hubs often see their wages cut and safety standards ignored, all to keep production costs down.

Meanwhile, platforms like Temu and Shein have enhanced their shipping infrastructure in Australia, ensuring quicker delivery of cheaper products. As a result, Australians now send over 200,000 tonnes of clothing to landfill annually.

But the root of the issue is structural. The entire business model of ultra-fast fashion is built on a foundation of exploitation and environmental degradation.

Is there a way out?

Solving these deeply rooted problems requires more than consumer awareness. Governments must step up regulation of supply chain disclosures and enforce labour laws. Brands, too, need to take responsibility for the working conditions in both their owned and outsourced factories. Transparency is no longer optional.

Encouragingly, sustainable alternatives are beginning to gain traction. Clothing rentals offer a promising way to shift towards a more circular fashion economy. Charity-run op shops continue to provide a sustainable channel for second-hand clothing.

Australia has also launched its Seamless scheme, which aims to hold fashion brands accountable for the entire lifecycle of their products. The goal is to encourage buying, wearing and recycling in a more eco-friendly and socially responsible manner.

Consumers play a pivotal role. As long as we expect clothing to cost less than a cup of coffee, progress will remain slow. Recognising that a USD 5 t-shirt carries hidden human and environmental costs is a crucial first step.

Some ethical fashion brands are already leading the charge, offering clothing made with sustainable materials and fair labour practices. These items may not be as cheap or instantly available, but they offer a conscious alternative for those concerned about the impact of synthetic fibres, hazardous chemicals, and labour exploitation.

Tariffs changed the map, not the game

Trump’s trade policies were designed to tip global trade back in favour of American industry. Yet they have cost companies over USD 34 billion in lost sales and increased expenses, costs that will eventually be passed on to American consumers.

In the ultra-fast fashion sector, these policies laid bare an already fragile and exploitative system. While brands like Shein and Temu continue to thrive in markets like Australia, the deeper issue remains unchanged: unless global inequalities in fashion production are addressed, and the current incentives that drive the industry are restructured, the real cost of cheap fashion will keep falling on those least able to bear it.

(Agency inputs)