If some extraterrestrial species has actually visited Earth in the past three decades, we bet they probably left our atmosphere thinking about humanity’s toxic consumer culture — and how many leaders ignore how unsustainable our take-make-waste system really is.

Consider what's visible from space: mountains of discarded textiles in Chile's Atacama Desert, dumped in what's become a fast fashion graveyard. Here, textile waste accumulates in such vast quantities that it's literally visible from orbit, as captured by satellite images platform SkyFi. Thus, our waste might be the first thing any visiting civilisation learns about us.

Here's what that says: We've built a system where fashion’s many billionaires profit off exploitation while workers — the majority women of colour — earn poverty wages. We promote plastic clothing imbued with toxic chemicals. We've been sold the lie that without more, we're uncool, undesirable, unworthy. An exploitative industry has conflated craft and design and self-expression with the crude act of consuming, consuming, consuming. We call members of our species “consumers” as if consuming is the meaning of life. A third of garments made are never worn, and those that are often get worn only a handful of times before these “dead white man’s clothes” end up dumped across Africa, Asia, and South America in waste colonialism.

Fashion media hasn't faced a meaningful reckoning for its role in this. Publishers promote lifestyles incompatible with planetary boundaries while occasional sustainability sections provide cover. Editors commission more stories celebrating overproducing brands than critiquing them. The business model depends on selling more stuff while genuine sustainability requires making less.

We're not interested in perpetuating that model. We're anxiety.eco, and we're trying to build something different.

There's too much toxic plastic clothing. Too little progress addressing fashion's contribution to the worsening climate emergency, to labour injustices, and to waste colonialism. Too much avoidance from those in charge. The problems can seem so overwhelming and our individual actions so small that powerlessness feels inevitable. But that's exactly what the powerful want us to feel.

anxiety.eco is a worker-owned media outlet covering fashion through the lens of, well, reality on Earth. We help you make sense of overwhelming facts rather than avoiding them. Our journalism aims to be radically honest about systemic failures while building agency for change. We investigate fashion's harms with the rigour they demand while celebrating genuine innovations, secondhand style and the expertise of garment workers. 

Crucially, we distinguish between style as self-expression and the fashion industry as an extractive system. Style existed before our modern fashion system and it'll outlast it. Textile traditions that are beautiful and cultural predate the colonial systems of exploitation that fast fashion is built upon. Style can happen through repair, upcycling, creativity, thrifting, Depop and eBay, you name it. The fashion industry has colonised our understanding of style to require constant new purchases. We reject that conflation.

Our editorial mission is to help build collective power for fashion justice, and help you feel more engaged with solutions. We reject both the fashion industry's greenwashing and doom narratives that paralyze us into inaction. We will work to centre those most impacted, too: Indigenous craftspeople, frontline communities, activists who've been organising for decades. With whatever we publish, our goal is to meet you at the intention-behavior gap, where we’re all consciously conflicted, worried, but still getting dressed. The antidote is collective.

Here are the editorial principles we’ll follow and expand on as this worker-owned operation grows.

We cover fashion through the lens of planetary boundaries and climate crisis, focusing on systemic issues rather than individual consumer behaviour. Our beat includes supply chain transparency and worker organising, waste colonialism, overproduction and degrowth, material innovation and circular economy realities, policy and regulatory fights, fashion activism and community organising, regenerative and post-“sustainability” movements, and intersections with justice and decolonisation.

We're not just doing accountability journalism, though. This is also a style publication. We care about craft, design, the creativity and cultural traditions that make getting dressed meaningful. We cover designers and makers who show us what fashion could be: rooted in care for people and planet, built on longevity rather than disposability, connected to cultural heritage rather than trend cycles.

We don't cover haul culture or aspirational shopping content that encourages overconsumption. We don't cover fast fashion brands as if endless growth can be "sustainable" because the business model is fundamentally incompatible with planetary boundaries. We don't amplify brand sustainability claims without scrutiny when the majority of fashion brand green claims are misleading. 

We don't frame sustainability as individual consumer responsibility when systemic change requires corporate accountability and policy intervention.

We reject access journalism. Our primary mission isn't to cover the big brand’s creative director merry-go-round. And when we do profile a creative director, you can bet we'll ask the questions, state the facts plainly, and trust you to see them for what they are. We're here to tell the truth because we care about our readers, about change, and yes, about style too.

There are so many clothes in the world that deserve a home. Closets full of barely worn garments. Charity shops overflowing with donations. Warehouses stacked with deadstock. Before we spotlight anything new, we prioritise what already exists.

Secondhand isn't a compromise. It's often more interesting, more affordable, and carries less environmental burden than new production. We feature secondhand items, vintage finds, and archive pieces in our content. We cover the people and platforms making secondhand accessible. We write guides to shopping secondhand well.

When we spotlight new production, we want it to be something you'll have for life, or as long as possible. Objects of permanence, not planned obsolescence. We're not here to produce endless shopping lists disguised as content. We want to help you think differently about consumption and consider purchases only when they make sense and will last in your wardrobe.

We spotlight makers engaging in contemporary craft, designers meaningfully shifting the fashion system, and those who put circularity at the heart of their business. We work exclusively with Good On You to feature small independent designers, worker-owned cooperatives, and brands with verified commitments.

When we critique brands, we name systemic issues rather than just individual company failures. Most brands refuse to disclose production volumes. We simply don't know how many clothes are made each year, but we know it's far more than the planet can sustain. We explain why status quo corporate “sustainability” within the current growth model is largely impossible, not why specific brands are “bad.”

The impact of fashion's demand for animal-derived materials on the creatures themselves and the environment cannot be understated. Animal agriculture for fashion simultaneously harms animals, exploits workers in dangerous conditions, drives deforestation and biodiversity loss, and contributes disproportionately to climate emissions. These aren't separate issues but interconnected manifestations of prioritising profit over life. 

We want to go further on this issue than any mainstream fashion media outlet has: We won't promote any virgin animal products. Nada! Zilch! We believe the industry should phase out virgin animal materials entirely, beginning immediately. 

We acknowledge that vast quantities of fabrics, clothes, shoes, and accessories made from animal products already exist. We support keeping them in the loop, rewearing and repairing instead of sending them to landfill. We'll only feature recycled or secondhand animal materials in our content. 

Equally, we realise that “vegan leather” is often a cynical label to promote more 100% plastic materials such as PU or PVC, which are harmful to people and the planet in other ways. We, therefore, will not promote 100% virgin synthetic materials, either. Instead, we therefore prioritise alternative materials that are innovative, creative, and show us a better way forward. 

“Artificial intelligence” is a broad, imprecise and inaccurate marketing term for a rapidly evolving tech space that raises human and environmental justice concerns. “AI” synthetic media generators are trained on stolen data and use algorithms to produce images, audio and videos. It’s slop, and the world needs less slop.

We say no to fashion slop. We do not publish “AI”-generated images except when critiquing the practice and demonstrating how bad it is. The energy intensity contradicts our climate mission. The training datasets exploit uncredited labour. The output replicates biases and produces inaccuracies.

If a garment is designed and created by human hands to last for a long time, then it should be modelled by humans. If a brand's campaign only shows fake clothes on fake people, then there's a good chance their clothes are only fit for fake people and only worth Monopoly money. 

This “no fashion slop!” policy also applies to brands we spotlight in any capacity. Unlike certain fashion magazines.

We are not against emerging tech, to be sure. As Emily M. Bender and Alex Hanna write in their book, “The AI Con”: 

Not everyone can afford £200 dresses from that “sustainable” brand. But style isn't about price point. 

The fashion industry has twisted our understanding of style to require constant new purchases. We reject this. Style is about creativity, care and longevity.

Style is for everyone. The exploitative fashion industry is not. So we aim to highlight how you can be stylish with buying as little as possible, by falling back in love with something you already own, by creatively upcycling or swapping. 

That said, we also realise there are systemic barriers for plus-size, petite, tall people and the diversity of our bodies. We want to cover fashion in ways that acknowledge these barriers while showcasing creativity and solutions across all bodies, abilities and budgets. 

anxiety.eco was founded by Good On You’s editors, and we are a worker-owned media operating with full editorial independence. Coverage decisions are made solely by our editorial team with support from readers. We have no venture capital investors, no growth-at-any-cost mandate, no executives whose compensation depends on maximising pageviews for fast fashion shopping listicles. We exist to serve our readers, first and foremost. 

Right now, we're bootstrapping. We're experimenting with what it means to build media that's financially sustainable while staying true to these principles. We're inspired by worker-owned outlets like 404 Media that have shown it's possible to build a business around journalism that centres readers.

We're trying different revenue models aligned with our values. 

Most fashion magazines work with anyone willing to pay. That creates ethical dilemmas and influences coverage. Affiliate revenue has broken fashion criticism. Uncritical promotion of any brand paying commission. Editorial decisions driven by affiliate potential rather than reader value. We're committing to a different model.

We are working with Good On You's affiliate network because it's the only one that puts sustainability verification at the heart. And any such brands you see in our content have been independently rated for their public disclosures on sustainability goals, actions and progress, scoring either "Good" or "Great"—the two highest ratings. We might earn a small commission when you follow a link and purchase products from these brands. 

This helps fund our work while supporting small and independent brands setting a better standard for the industry. Our editors research and handpick what we share. Affiliate relationships don't influence coverage. We critique brands we link to when warranted. It’s important to underscore that this does not, at present, cover our expenses. And this commitment is, by our research into mainstream fashion media, the most rigorous policy of its kind among publishers.

We take a slow approach, spotlighting designers who show us a way forward rather than churning out shopping lists. If we do this well, you'll subscribe because you think it's important, because you think it should exist in the world, and because you're getting value from it.

We don't see you as consumers. You're the people we're building this for and with. We want our editorial calendar to be an ongoing conversation. We invite your expertise and connections. We aim to be useful, providing concrete pathways to action, not just information.

We want our reporting in your group chats, cited in your organising meetings, useful for your advocacy. We're building this collectively. We're journalists first and foremost, but we're accountable to you.

We correct errors promptly with equal prominence to original claims. We welcome reader corrections. Collectively, our readers know more than we do about most topics we cover. When we get something wrong, we say so clearly.

We take clear stances on issues central to fashion justice that some media outlets might frame as “both sides.” As journalists, we reject this because they are backed by evidence, by science, by human rights principles as well as ancient wisdom.

We oppose the current fashion growth model because endless production increases are incompatible with planetary boundaries. Degrowth or post-growth fashion isn't "radical" as much as it's a mathematical necessity. The overproduction, overpromotion and overconsumption of cheap clothing is the problem.

We oppose colonial dynamics in sustainability discourse where wealthy nations define standards while dumping waste in the places that bear the consequences. 

We reject the fossil fuel narrative that puts much of the onus for decarbonisation on individuals — “carbon footprint” is a BP-coined marketing term, after all, and we avoid the phrase for that reason. Indeed, the same is true for fashion brands: the solution is to stop fossil fuels.

We support worker organising, living wages, supply chain transparency requirements, extended producer responsibility policies and binding regulatory frameworks. These positions are grounded in evidence and aligned with frontline communities who've been organising for generations.

Another fact: We’ll get stuff wrong despite the best efforts and intentions. But perfection isn’t the point. Collective action is. We acknowledge that building anti-colonial, intersectional media is an ongoing practice, not a one-time achievement. 

We're sharing these policies because we want fashion media — big and small — to steal them. Adapt them. Make them better. We want you to challenge us to live up to them. Better media doesn't solve the problems, but it can inform movements, hold power to account and help you navigate an overwhelming world.

We encourage mainstream fashion editors to implement these policies. They probably won’t. But, after all, that’s why you’re here. That’s why we’re here. We will review this policy regularly and welcome your feedback at [email protected]. 

The antidote is collective. That includes building the media we need.

If aliens are watching, let's give them something better to see than mountains of clothes rotting in deserts.