The fashion industry is one of the most environmentally destructive sectors in the world. In March 2025, the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) reported that the world generates approximately 92 million tonnes of textile waste each year. In the United States alone, the average person contributes an estimated 82 to 100 pounds of textile waste annually. Beyond physical waste, the industry is also responsible for roughly 10% of global carbon emissions, underscoring the scale of its environmental impact.
Much of this can be traced back to the rise of fast fashion. Rapid production cycles and trend-driven consumption have reshaped the way we value clothing. Garments are often made from low-quality materials designed for short-term wear, encouraging a cycle of quick disposal and replacement. As trends come and go at an accelerated pace, so does our attachment to what we own. Research shows that 65% of clothing ends up in landfill within just one year of purchase, providing a stark reflection of a culture built on disposability rather than durability.
This marks a clear departure from the foundations that once defined the industry: quality craftsmanship, longevity, and timeless design. Today, consumers are constantly pushed toward the next new thing, items that quickly fall “out of style” or simply fail to last.
But there is a growing shift underway. As awareness increases, so does the demand for more responsible alternatives. One of the most immediate and tangible solutions is the use of deadstock fabric. With over 80% of textile waste currently ending up in landfill or incineration, repurposing existing materials offers a way to intervene directly in the waste stream. Rather than allowing surplus fabrics from past collections to go unused, they can be reimagined into new garments, extending their lifecycle and reducing the need for new production.
In this piece, we explore deadstock fabric: what it is, where it comes from, and how it is emerging as a meaningful response to fashion’s waste problem.
The History of Deadstock Fabric:
During the Industrial Revolution, spanning the 1800s through the mid-1900s, fashion as we know it began to take shape. Textile production became mechanized, with mills producing fabrics in large batches using machinery and assembly lines. As output increased, so did the margin for error. Brands often overestimated demand, leaving behind excess materials. But at the time, the scale of production was still relatively small, and so was the waste. Surplus fabrics were rarely thrown away. Instead, they were stored, repurposed, or sold at low cost to smaller makers and local consumers. Waste, in the way we understand it today, wasn’t yet embedded in the system.
By the post-war mass production era of the 1950s through the 1980s, things began to shift. As global supply chains expanded and production scaled up, so did the amount of unused fabric. Fashion also became more cyclical, with seasonal collections and emerging trend culture contributing to increasing surplus. It was during this time that the concept of “deadstock” began to take hold. Still, these materials weren’t immediately discarded. In a world shaped by post-war resourcefulness, reuse remained the norm. Deadstock fabrics found their way into discount fabric markets, independent tailoring shops, and even film and costume design. At this stage, repurposing wasn’t about sustainability. It was simply practical.
Then came the turning point. From the 1990s through the 2010s, the rise of fast fashion completely transformed the industry. Production cycles sped up, trends turned over faster than ever, and clothing became cheaper and more disposable. What used to be seasonal drops became constant waves of newness. With this shift came a dramatic increase in overproduction. Fabrics and garments were no longer just sitting unused, they were being discarded at scale. Landfills and incinerators became part of the system. In some cases, brands even destroyed unsold inventory to maintain exclusivity. One of the most widely publicized examples came in 2018, when Burberry was exposed for burning millions of dollars’ worth of unsold goods. Around this time, deadstock became less of a behind-the-scenes byproduct and more of a visible symptom of an industry in excess.
Today, the narrative is beginning to shift again. Since the early 2010s, a growing awareness of fashion’s environmental impact has sparked a movement toward more conscious consumption. Shoppers are starting to value quality over quantity, longevity over trend cycles. Vintage and secondhand shopping are no longer niche, they’re part of a broader cultural shift. And within this shift, deadstock fabric is being reimagined.
What was once considered excess is now being seen as opportunity. Independent designers and smaller brands are intentionally sourcing deadstock instead of producing new textiles, creating limited-run pieces that feel both thoughtful and unique. These garments often carry a lower environmental footprint, while also tapping into something consumers increasingly value: individuality.
Of course, deadstock isn’t a perfect solution. It exists because of overproduction, and it doesn’t fully address the root of the problem. But it does offer something important, a way to work with what already exists, to slow things down, and to rethink how fashion is made. In an industry built on constant newness, that shift alone is meaningful.
Our Deadstock Fabric Story:
Our approach to deadstock is deeply personal. It’s rooted in relationships, resourcefulness, and a long-standing connection to the people behind the materials we use.
We source our fabrics from Preview Textile Group, a wholesale textile provider based in New York City’s Garment District. They specialize in custom silk and silk-blend printed fabrics, as well as a wide range of plain silks that can be dyed or tailored to specific needs. Alongside their custom production, they maintain a rotating selection of deadstock fabrics that, for one reason or another, were never used. Sometimes a brand over-ordered, sometimes a print came out slightly off, and sometimes production simply shifted. Whatever the reason, these materials would otherwise go unused.
This is where we come in.
Rather than allowing these fabrics to be discarded, we source directly from Preview’s deadstock inventory, giving these textiles a second life while helping recover some of the costs of their production. It’s a small but meaningful way to keep high-quality materials out of landfill, and a system that benefits everyone involved.
Of course, working with deadstock comes with its own set of constraints. We typically require a minimum of 12 yards, or 24 yards if the fabric is being pleated, to produce a run of around 30 pairs. Every piece we create is inherently limited edition; once a fabric is gone, it’s gone for good. This makes each design feel more intentional, but it also means we have to be selective. Print scale, pattern repeat, durability, and overall composition all play a role, especially when designing for footwear, where the material needs to be both visually striking and structurally sound.
Our relationship with Preview goes back years, long before the brand existed. We began working with them during college while developing a thesis collection in bridal and eveningwear, back when we were designing custom prints and dyeing fabrics by hand. They played a key role in helping us source the right materials, and that partnership has continued to grow ever since.
Jennifer, our longtime representative, has been part of that journey from the very beginning. She brings not only deep industry knowledge but also a sense of humor that makes every sourcing trip something to look forward to. From early student projects, to a short-lived bridal accessories line, to where we are now, Preview has been a constant.
Located in the same building as Mood Fabrics, Preview offers a more intimate, hands-on experience, one that aligns with the way we like to work: thoughtfully, collaboratively, and with a focus on quality over scale.
Curious about Alterre’s commitment to sustainability? Discover more about the materials we choose and why they matter.
Brands Redefining Fashion Through Deadstock:
OhSeven Days is a deadstock-based womenswear brand born out of founder Megan Mummrey’s move to Istanbul, where she discovered the city’s abundance of deadstock fabric markets. Working with surplus and imperfect rolls of fabric, the brand creates minimal, versatile garments produced in limited runs. Its ethos is rooted in the idea of creating “slow fashion from fast fashion’s leftovers.”
Early collections featured just seven pieces per season, a concept that not only reflected a concise, intentional approach to wardrobe building, but also nodded to the Turkish word seven, meaning “one who loves.”
E.L.V. Denim is a British luxury fashion brand that works predominantly with 100% recycled denim and reclaimed textiles. Founded by stylist Anna Foster, “East London Vintage Denim” was created as a way to breathe a second life into discarded materials, transforming textile waste into high-end fashion pieces and reframing deadstock as a luxury resource.
The brand works exclusively with pre-existing materials, primarily discarded denim, deadstock cotton, and linens sourced from luxury hotels, alongside other recovered textiles. Its now-signature design, the contrast-color mid-seam jean, is crafted by merging two different pairs of vintage denim. Since then, the brand has expanded its offering to include jumpsuits, shirts, dresses, skirts, outerwear, and accessories, all rooted in the same commitment to circular design.
Ahluwalia is a fashion brand founded by Priya Ahluwalia, known for creating striking pieces that merge sustainability with contemporary design. The label centers on upcycling deadstock fabrics, while weaving cultural storytelling into each collection, drawing on Ahluwalia’s Nigerian-Indian heritage to inform both textile choices and garment design.
Blending streetwear influences with tailored silhouettes and vibrant prints, Ahluwalia has carved out a distinct space in modern fashion. The brand’s approach is not only aesthetic, but intentional. Championing a vision of fashion that is ethical, inclusive, and forward-thinking.
Marine Serre is a French luxury label known for its signature crescent moon motif and its position at the forefront of eco-conscious high fashion. Blending futuristic design with sustainable practices, the brand merges couture-level craftsmanship with sport-inspired silhouettes.
At the core of Marine Serre’s ethos is the concept of “regenerated fashion,” sourcing pre-existing materials, discarded textiles, vintage garments, and deadstock fabrics, from local networks and transforming them into luxury pieces. The brand’s distinct “eco-futurist” aesthetic draws from sportswear, Middle Eastern dress influences, and post-apocalyptic themes, offering a bold alternative to the muted palettes and natural textures traditionally associated with sustainable fashion.
Sources for the blog:
EPA + Boston University Research
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