The secondhand clothing market is, by almost every available measure, growing. Consumer interest is up, platforms are multiplying, and the language of circularity has spread through the industry with a speed that outpaces any measurable change in how clothing is produced or discarded. At the centre of this sits Rewear, the collective term for practices that keep garments in active use beyond their first owner: resale, repair, rental, upcycling, and the logistics that make each of these possible. It is, in principle, fashion's most direct answer to its waste problem. In practice, the answer is more complicated than the growth numbers suggest.
Rewear as a structured industry initiative has been building since 2021, when Fashion for Good launched its Sorting for Circularity framework, a multi-market programme designed to harmonise the collection, sorting, and recycling industries and advance both textile-to-textile recycling technologies and the resale sector. The framework has since expanded across Europe, India, and the United States, bringing together brands, sorters, innovators, and researchers around a common question: what does it actually take to keep clothing in use at scale?
Sorting for Circularity: Project Rewear, the latest study produced under that framework in partnership with Circle Economy, attempts an answer grounded in data rather than ambition. It analysed 8,280 post-consumer garments at European sorting facilities, tracked secondhand clothing flows into Ghana and Pakistan, and ran three innovation pilots testing whether smarter sorting, targeted repair, and digital aftersales tools can change the economics of keeping clothes in use.
The findings are instructive, and not in the way the secondhand market's growth trajectory implies. Of the garments analysed, 37% showed no damage at all, and a further 41% carried only a single minor flaw, meaning that the overwhelming majority of discarded clothing was, by any physical measure, still wearable. Yet most of it will not be reworn, or not at the value its condition warrants. The constraint is not material. It is economic.
What the study surfaces, with some precision, is the architecture of a value system that works against the thing it claims to support. Resale markets price garments not on condition but on trend alignment, brand recognition, and perceived desirability, criteria that have no stable relationship with whether a garment can be worn again. The top fraction of stock, the so-called "cream" that commands premium prices, accounts for 5 to 10% of what sorting facilities process. Everything else competes against the artificially suppressed cost of new clothing, produced at a scale the industry rarely discloses and discarded at volumes it rarely advertises.
That suppression runs deep. Consumer expectations have been shaped, over years, by a market in which a fast fashion T-shirt costs less than a cinema ticket, which means that a secondhand T-shirt in acceptable condition must compete not against its replacement value but against the price of a new one made worse and cheaper. Repair and preparation for reuse rarely survive this arithmetic. The labour and logistics required to clean, depill, or mend a garment frequently exceed the margin available on its resale, which is why, across the European facilities in the study, preparation for reuse remains marginal even for operators who believe in it.
The global secondhand apparel market is forecast to reach US$367 billion by 2029, a figure the industry cites with some regularity. Less cited: the fashion industry produces an estimated 100 billion to 150 billion garments annually, with up to 30% never sold. Rewear, under these conditions, is not a counterweight. It is a parallel market, capturing value at the margins while the production model that generates the waste continues largely undisturbed.
The question the study forces into view is not whether clothes can be reworn. Demonstrably, most of them can. The harder question is why so many rewearable garments end up commercially stranded, or exported across three continents before finding a second use, or simply discarded by markets that cannot absorb the volumes arriving from above. That question leads not to the secondhand sector but to the upstream decisions, on design, on volume, on price, that determine what enters the system in the first place.