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The Observer -Life & style Ethical fashion -Lucy Siegle

Why it's time to end our love affair with cheap fashion. Cheap, throwaway clothes have become hugely popular on the high street. But last week a report criticised the trend and here The Observer's ethical columnist says our appetite for disposable fashion is becoming an eco disaster

One can only speculate on the fashion footprint of the wardrobes of Lord Howie of Troon and the Earl of Northesk, both members of the Lords science and technology committee, but you'd have to suspect it is minimal. Given each lord's age, gender and peer-group interests - the highest fashion consumption rates are for women in their early thirties who read glossy magazines - the peers' share will come in well below the average of 35kg of textiles per person per year (mostly clothing). Much of this will be thrown out within a year; a small part will be recycled or donated to charity, and the rest will be chucked in the bin.

Last week's waste reduction report from the Lords committee read a little in places like an analysis of the woodland defecation procedures of bears. '[The] culture of "fast fashion" encourages consumers to dispose of clothes which have only been worn a few times in favour of new, cheap garments which themselves will also go out of fashion and be discarded within a matter of months,' announced the venerable lords in tones of shock and awe.

Many women are inured to the obscene excesses of fast fashion. One pound in four is now spent on 'value' fashion as provided by the likes of Primark, Asda and Topshop, which has had huge success with model Kate Moss's range of clothes. Between 2003 and 2007 garment prices fell by an average of 10 per cent and over the past five years the rate of frenzied buying has accelerated, while we make room for it by discarding some two million tons every year.

The true weight of this addiction has only really been felt by an unfortunate few such as the Salvation Army which, with around 2,750 of the UK's 9,000 charity clothing banks, has been faced with an ever growing mound of tat to flog to consumers indifferent to pre-worn unless it happens to be vintage. Value fashion retailers will debate forever as to how they can sell clothes so cheaply, usually citing economies of scale, but it has been clear to recyclers for some time that a fall in fibre quality and finishing is part of the equation. This makes the resale of last season's paper thin, slightly shrunken sun dress a distinctly unappetising commercial proposition. Besides, there isn't much incentive for consumers to buy worn when a new dress costs less than a lunchtime panini and coffee.

The bulk of discarded fast fashion is chucked into landfill. Meanwhile, the fashion industry has been particularly adept at avoiding green censure and criticism. While more prosaic sectors - food and drink, electronics, detergents and even car manufacturers -

have been forced to own up to environmental shortcomings either to pre-empt legislation or conform to new regulations (such as the EU directive that means your hairdryer or washing machine can no longer be flung into landfill) fashion appears to have charmed us all in a haze of sequins, air kisses and the seemingly boundless dynamism of fast fashion with its high street empires and super-rich moguls.

But when Defra, the department for the environment, began to analyse the impact of different materials in the nation's landfills a couple of years ago, fast fashion's get-out-of-jail-free card was unexpectedly revoked. The nation's penchant for 'McFashion' - as one-night-only T-shirts and skinny jeans have been dubbed - was found to translate into more than three million tons of carbon dioxide emissions.

More significant to millions of fashion-lovers than the opinions of a Lords committee or Defra will be the opinion of the style press. And even those who formerly and gleefully proclaimed Primark the new Prada are now suggesting that fast fashion has rather had its day. Apparently it is all about 'investment dressing' - buying one piece and loving it for a long time - now as fashionistas tighten their tiny little belts. 'Gucci or gas?' asks the September issue of Harper's Bazaar, advising fashion-lovers feeling the credit crunch to survive on 'one big ticket item, something in between or a little bit of both'.

There's some validity in this argument, as anything that cuts down the rapid turnover begins to reverse the fact that - according to Matilda Lee from the Ecologist - just 2 per cent of the average clothing budget goes on services that repair or lengthen the lifespan of our garments and accessories.

However, to be truly sustainable, the fashion parameters will have to be widened. If fashion is about ingenuity and innovation, this is a good time for the industry to draw on these qualities and return to measuring fashion in terms of something other than quantity. There has already been a shift. Phil Patterson, once textiles manager at Marks and Spencer, has set up ecotextile.com to allow consumers to assess their wardrobe in terms of environmental damage units (EDUs) with the goal that they'll be more fibre-discerning in future. The London College of Fashion recently launched its Centre for Sustainable Fashion and there has been a renaissance of thrift fashion ideas from reworking existing pieces to sewing classes, kit fashion, clothes swaps and clothes and accessory libraries.

There would appear to be some ethical motivation for change too. In the aftermath of the Observer and Panorama exposé of child labour used in manufacturing a line for Primark, an ICM research poll, commissioned by Drapers magazine, found that 42 per cent of people who shop at Primark were less likely or a lot less likely to shop at the retailer because of what they had heard.

In reality, any demise of super-cheap, super-fast fashion probably comes down to market economics. Labour costs have increased 50 per cent in the past four years across provinces in south-eastern China, the sewing room of the world. Meanwhile, fast fashion is scarily dependent on cheap fibres, namely polyester and cotton - which together account for more than 80 per cent of all fibre production worldwide.

Both are dogged by sustainability issues. As petroleum production declines, polyester prices are soaring, while cotton's insatiable need for water (and agrichemicals), coupled with the fact that two-thirds is still rain-grown in areas where rainfall has declined, means there's not enough to go around. Add to this a new, hungry consumer in the form of the Chuppie (the Chinese yuppie) who has developed an appetite for fast fashion herself, meaning that Chinese producers are less eager to export.

It will almost certainly get slower. In order to keep up with the trend for two new lines a week, brought to the high street by Spanish fashion giant Zara, competitors are increasingly reliant on air freight, and that is becoming hugely expensive.

Shipping a standard container from Shanghai to America's east coast costs $8,000 (£4,315) today, as opposed to just $3,000 a few months ago. Container ships are slowing down to cut fuel costs. If fashion stays fast it will need to become more localised, which will increase cost. So it can be slow and cheap, or fast and expensive. It is the combination of cheap and fast that is unsustainable.

In any case, we shouldn't overly mourn the passing of cheap fast fashion. We may be short on cheap fibre and oil, but one thing we have an abundance of is creativity. The demise of fast fashion could be as revolutionary as the mini skirt, the Ugg boot and Agyness Deyn all rolled into one.

Lucy Siegle is the Observer's Ethical Living columnist and Visiting Professor at the London College of Fashion