Donating Clothes Isn't the Solution — So What Is?
"I gave them to the needy, I'm fine — off to Zara." Why donating clothes alone doesn't solve the textile surplus, what happens to half of what charities receive — and the one principle that actually works.
Michal Levi Arbel ·
The common feeling is: "I gave them to the needy, I'm fine — off to Zara." From the donor's point of view the clothes reached their destination, and they are already on the way to the current sale for another item that costs a few dollars. But there is something very deceptive here, and it's time to break a few assumptions.
Yes, donating clothes is the right thing to do. But it's worth knowing that charities are flooded, and not every garment can reach someone in need.
What happens to clothes that reach a charity
Take WIZO's Bigudit second-hand shops in Israel — I worked there myself. Volunteers sort the piles that arrive and sell the clothes in the charity's shops to fund important social projects. But the quantities are enormous, and about fifty percent have to go elsewhere: anything stained, unusable or unsellable is sold in sacks, by weight, to traders.
Traders are the only ones who can handle such volumes — shredding and recycling, or shipping the items to developing countries, which are sometimes the very places where cheap fashion is made in shameful conditions. It's absurd. And where surplus clothing floods in, it has hurt the local textile industry, because there is no longer any need to make clothes there.
I've been in those shops and seen the volumes — including clothes that arrive with their price tags still on, because they were never even worn.
Your good feeling becomes someone else's burden
Local authorities also have to deal with the piles of textiles collected in bins — we don't want fabric waste going to landfill — but they cannot handle such volumes. The collection bins are overflowing.
Leaving clothes on a street bench isn't a solution either. People feel good about it, but the items sit in the sun, dogs pass by — who would want them afterwards? Your good feeling becomes a burden on someone else.
And economically, donating is mostly a way to clear our conscience. We like to believe that clearing out the wardrobe and giving away shirts bought on a two-for-one deal will fix someone's life — and clean out our wardrobe too. That isn't accurate.
So what does work?
There is one clear principle: reduce. The solution doesn't start at the recycling bin or the donation bag, but in the shop — before buying.
If you do donate, give to charities rather than to clothing bins run by private operators, where the money goes into their own pockets.
And when you do buy, think second-hand. I prefer to dress my own daughter in hand-me-downs and clothes from WIZO's second-hand shops.
Not abstinence — moderation
I'm not preaching abstinence. Fashion is fun, full of creativity and a way to express yourself — you can tell your story through your clothes. But it all comes down to moderation. Fashion chains don't serve me; I serve them. Once we understand the rules of the game, we buy more thoughtfully and connect more to our choices. The change isn't only about quantity — it's about perception.