During my sophomore year of college in the Obama era, I was captivated by the potential of Everlane, a new direct-to-consumer clothing brand. I don’t recall the exact moment I discovered the fashion startup, but I remember receiving their emails. Founded around 2011 with venture capital backing, Everlane presented itself with a minimalist, consumer-friendly approach. The concept was straightforward: offer well-made, stylish clothingâdescribed as “modern basics”âat fair prices. The brand enhanced its allure by introducing an element of exclusivity; similar to the early days of Gmail, an invitation was required to shop.
By avoiding traditional retail stores, Everlane, co-founded by Michael Preysman, claimed to eliminate the intermediary, passing the benefits directly to consumers. Initially, Everlane promised that its products, beginning with boxy T-shirts, would always be priced under $100.
Embracing a distinctly millennial ethos, the company promoted the notion that change could be achieved simply by purchasing better products. I spent countless hours exploring the brand’s email marketing and clothing collections. I finally got off the waitlist in the fall of 2011 (âYouâre one of the first in the door!â, proclaimed the email), but initially, I just browsed. Even with the significant discounts, I questioned whether $25 was too much for a pocket tee, especially with Urban Outfitters nearby, or if the quality of a $15 box-cut tee would endure, particularly since I couldn’t inspect it firsthand. In the early days, as Preysman himself assessed, Everlane functioned almost as a branding exercise. âI have seen, candidly with Everlane, weâve had periods where we had okay product when we launched, and the brand carried all the weight,â he shared on a business podcast in 2024. âThen we had great products, and we had really high engagement.â
As the company grew in popularity and reach, its aesthetic and business model evolved, along with its pricing. In 2017, Everlane announced the opening of its first brick-and-mortar store in New York City, where customers can still find $148 jeans and $268 cashmere sweaters. The company’s mission also expanded; in 2021, Everlane announced plans to achieve net-zero emissions by 2050. The company aimed to âempower people to live their best lives with the least impact on the planet â and leave the apparel industry cleaner than we found it.â According to its latest sustainability report, Everlane has reduced Scope 1, 2, and 3 emissions by 60 percent since 2019 and cut per-product carbon emissions by 42 percent.
Over the years, the brand has demonstrated its environmental commitment through various initiatives, such as using certified organic cotton and striving to eliminate virgin plastic from its supply chain. The company has also made efforts to be transparent by showcasing photos from its factories in Vietnam, China, Italy, and other countries, and tracking which facilities use renewable energy and pay living wages.
Despite these efforts, the company puzzled consumers last week when it was sold to Shein, an e-commerce giant known as the largest polluter in fast fashion last year. Shein offers clothing, jewelry, home goods, and accessories at remarkably low prices, a result of its carbon-intensive supply chain. The sale was managed by L Catterton, Everlane’s majority owner, as reported by fashion journalist Laura Sherman. (Preysman, who stepped down as CEO in 2022, stated on LinkedIn that he âfound out at the same time as everyone,â and announced plans to launch another Everlane-esque business without venture capital or private equity funding.) Fashion magazines questioned whether Everlane’s acquisition marks the end of the fashion industry’s sustainability aspirations. Yet, this sale prompts a deeper inquiry: What is the value of sustainability goals in a world dominated by hyper-consumerism? Simply put, can buying more different things ever lead to a more sustainable planet?
It appears consumers are interested in sustainable shopping only if it allows them to continue shopping: A study from 2025 revealed that even when buying secondhand fashion, consumers are still purchasing new clothing.
The offerings of the two companies are markedly different: Preysman famously told the New Yorker, âYou do not get laid in Everlane.â On the other hand, Shein is a one-stop shop for daring styles like plunging necklines and revealing cut-outs, as well as an assortment of other products akin to Amazon or Temu. The Shein website features everything from a halter top that can make you look like a ladybug to oversized jorts and buckets of slime. Despite the fanfare surrounding the acquisition, echoes of Sheinâs story can be found in Everlaneâs original pitch, now adapted for a generation that values ultra-convenience.
Initially, both companies began as online-only retailers offering fashionable items at seemingly unbeatable prices. Shein has also borrowed from Everlaneâs marketing strategy, providing limited insights into its factories, albeit through a heavily curated influencer-driven PR machine. In 2023, Shein invited content creators to visit its facilities in Guangzhou, China on an all-expenses-paid trip. One influencer shared a video of the visit, mentioning that a worker was âsurprisedâ by the rumors of poor working conditions. (The video has since been removed.) The move was criticized as an attempt to clean up Sheinâs image.
To be fair, fifteen years after its inception, Everlane is not on the same scale as Shein, which reportedly produces 10,000 new items per day. However, the question of whether the fashion industry can ever truly become sustainable is perhaps misguided. Even Preysman acknowledged this at one point, stating, âThe word sustainability has been completely greenwashed,â in a Forbes interview in 2021. He added, âShow me a fashion brand that claims it is sustainable, and I will show you a fashion brand that is not honest. One can be âmore sustainableâ but nothing is truly sustainable.â Ultimately, the future of fashion retail depends on consumers purchasing more clothes.
I eventually purchased several items from Everlane: a durable canvas backpack, a versatile silk button-down worn to both classes and vacations, and a pair of bootcut jeans acquired after an extensive conversation with a salesperson and an unsolicited opinion from a third woman in the dressing room.
I no longer shop at Everlane’s store or website, mainly because I don’t need toâthe thrift stores in New York City are well-stocked with the brand’s clothing. It’s not unique to Everlane; I frequently spot Shein tops on the racks at Goodwill these days.
