Sparkle like Amal Clooney without your sequins ending up in landfill
They’re the must-have dress decoration of the party season but the scourge of eco-warriors
DAZZLING dresses, sparkling miniskirts and gleaming gold tops: ’tis the season to wear sequins. Shop windows are currently shimmering with festive outfits adorned with more glitter than a disco ball – and if you’ve got a Christmas party ahead, the chances are many of the women there will be wearing sequins.
Sequins and Christmas have long gone hand in hand, but this year, it seems, the trend is bigger and shinier than ever.
They’ve been seen on the catwalks of Valentino, Gucci and Chloe, and twinkling down red carpets at awards ceremonies, worn by A-listers such as Amal Clooney.
On the High Street, sequinned garments have been selling out: shoppers are snapping up Zara’s €80 sequin slip, while H&M’s sequinned back-tie dress went viral and is being resold on eBay for €290 (almost five times its €64 price tag).
A recent survey of 2,000 women by the charity Oxfam found that 40% intended to buy a sequinned piece of clothing for the festive season. On average, we purchase 33million sequin-clad garments at this time of year.
But, say the experts, all that glitters is not gold. ‘Sequins pose a huge environmental problem,’ says Charlotte Broadbent, personal stylist, beauty expert and founder of Charlotte Loves.
‘All are plastic, which, takes at least 200 years to decompose. When put into landfill, it releases methane, a potent greenhouse gas, so it’s contributing to global warming.’
Being seasonal buys, too, sequinned garments are more likely to be dumped than yearround pieces – adding to our mountain of fabric waste.
And when made on an industrial scale, with machines punching millions of tiny discs out of large plastic sheets, what’s left has to be disposed of, often by incineration.
Even while still being worn, a sequinned outfit sheds sequins liberally and often.
The loose, angled way in which they’re fixed to clothes – done so they catch the light – means they’re very prone to falling off, adding to their cumulative plastic waste.
Even the material they’re sewn to, usually lightweight polyester (to which they attach easily without puckering), adds another layer of environmental damage.
‘It’s a major contributor to the shedding of microplastics, which will eventually make their way into waterways and the food chain,’ says Jacqueline.
So divisive are sequins that younger shoppers are boycotting them. TikTok abounds with videos of Gen Z influencers lamenting their eco-crimes, with some comparing sequins to fur.
Meanwhile, some High Street brands such as Boden, have ditched them entirely. Others, including Whistles, Monsoon and ethical brand
Aspiga, have switched to sequins made from recycled plastic.
‘We know this is far from a perfect solution, but as innovation evolves, we are committed to adopting the best possible solutions to maintain your sparkle with as little impact as possible on the planet,’ says Whistles.
Biodegradable sequins are not yet commercially available, though they do exist. In April, model Cara Delevingne appeared in Vogue wearing a jumpsuit, by Stella McCartney in collaboration with London-based designers Radiant Matter, made from BioSequins: disc-shaped beads formed from cellulose extracted from trees.
This was the first time designers had created a plant-based, nontoxic, plastic-free sequin that looks like the real thing.
But sustainable sparkle is still in the development stage and it’s likely to be years before production on a mass scale.
So what’s the solution?
There are alternatives if you’re intent on indulging your peacock tendencies. Charlotte recommends renting items from firms such as Designer Room, Soha, and Rag Revolution – or borrowing from friends.
She said: ‘Not enough people share clothes – which is the most sustainable thing you can do.’
Above all, Charlotte warns against ‘making a mad, last-minute purchase of the wrong thing and only wearing it once. This feeds into the cycle of fast fashion, landfill and environmental damage’.
This wasn’t a problem, though, for the ancient Egyptians, to whom sequin-wearing can be traced. As far back as 2500BC, metal coins and baubles were attached to clothes as a sign of wealth or status. Solid gold beads were sewn into royal garments, and were found in the tomb of Tutankhamun.
The word ‘sequin’ came later, from the Venetian word ‘zecchino’, meaning a ducat coin (the currency used prior to the Napoleonic invasion of
Italy in the late 18th century), which was translated into
French as ‘sequin’. The trend for the wealthy to wear pieces of reflective metal on their smartest jackets, bonnets and dresses continued into the 19th century, mostly among the nobility.
Since the 1960s, PVC, a plastic derived from petroleum, has been used to make them.
So if you want to sparkle and save the planet this festive season, the advice is: go second-hand, preloved or borrowed.
Some Gen Z influencers compare sequins to fur