Carbon Offsets Pt 2: How Fashion Uses Offsets to Look Cleaner Than They Are

“Carbon Neutral” Means Nothing Without Context

We’ve all seen it — some big brand announces they’ve gone “carbon neutral.” It sounds good. It feels responsible. But when you scratch the surface, what does it actually mean?

Too often, it doesn’t mean much at all.

That’s because there’s no standard definition of what “carbon neutral” covers. A brand could offset only its Scope 1 and 2 emissions — basically the energy used in its offices, stores, maybe some distribution — and still slap “carbon neutral” across their homepage.
Meanwhile, Scope 3 — the big one — stays untouched.

And in fashion, Scope 3 is where 90 to 98% of emissions live. We’re talking raw materials, textile production, factory energy use, global shipping, end-of-life waste — the whole shadow system of fashion’s environmental footprint. So if a brand is only offsetting their in-house electricity and corporate travel, they’re covering maybe 5% of their impact… at most.

That’s why this kind of carbon neutrality starts to feel more like a marketing tactic than an actual climate solution.

Take Gucci, for example. They were one of the first major luxury brands to declare themselves carbon neutral. But they did it by offsetting all their emissions — not reducing them first. And while they did include Scope 3 in the calculation, critics pointed out how much of the strategy was still tied up in carbon credits instead of systemic change.

Were they transparent? Sure. But was it enough? That depends on what you expect from a brand that’s part of one of the most profitable fashion conglomerates on earth.

It’s not that we shouldn’t celebrate progress — but we also shouldn’t confuse carbon accounting with climate action.

The Shell Game of Net Zero

Net zero is everywhere right now. Brands aren’t just carbon neutral anymore — they’re aiming for “net zero by 2030,” “net zero by 2040,” or “net zero across the value chain.”

Sounds like progress. Until you realize most of these targets are built on air.

Here’s the thing about net zero: it’s not a current state. It’s a future promise. And most brands don’t show their math.

They’ll say, “We’re on track to be net zero by 2030.”
But they won’t say:
– What percentage of emissions they’ve already reduced
– How much of the target will be met with offsets
– Whether those offsets are high quality
– And whether the target includes Scope 3 at all

It’s all vibes. No receipts.

Take H&M Group. They’ve made public commitments to reduce emissions across their value chain. They’ve partnered with renewable energy projects and piloted low-carbon materials. But their business model is still built on volume — constant production, short turnaround times, and massive global shipping networks. So even if they do hit certain climate KPIs, the system itself remains emissions-heavy by design.

Then there’s Zara/Inditex, who announced “net zero by 2040.” Same issue — big talk, but not enough data to track what’s being done now vs. what’s being deferred. And 2040 is fifteen years away. That’s a long time to keep the runway clear for business as usual.

This is what we mean by the shell game: shifting focus from present responsibility to future goals.
It sounds like strategy. It reads like a plan. But unless you break it down, it’s just a delay tactic with nicer packaging.

And the worst part? It works. Consumers see “net zero by 2030” and assume the brand is already acting like a low-carbon company today. That’s the bait. That’s the trick.

The Marketing Gloss of Offsets

This is where greenwashing gets slick.

Because let’s be honest — most of us don’t read sustainability reports. We scan product pages, we see a green badge, and our brains go: “Okay, cool. They care.”

That’s not an accident. That’s the design.

From muted earth tones to hand-drawn leaf icons, from recycled-paper textures to words like “conscious,” “eco,” “responsible,” and “planet-first” — it’s all meant to feel clean, natural, safe. Like you’re doing the right thing by buying it.

Take Zara’s “Join Life” collection. It has its own logo, its own tone, its own language. But if you dig through the fine print, most of the products labeled “Join Life” still rely on virgin materials. Or maybe the item uses “less water” — but by how much? Compared to what? For how long?

The answers are rarely there. Just a nice green tag and a vibe.

Even Amazon has a climate badge now — “Climate Pledge Friendly.” It’s slapped on thousands of products. But behind the scenes, many of those products aren’t any different from regular listings. The badge is based on participation in third-party certifications, many of which are wildly inconsistent. No auditing. No life cycle analysis. Just participation.

This is the kind of greenwashing that’s harder to spot — because it’s not about lying. It’s about setting a mood.

And when a brand pairs that with big carbon claims like “we’re carbon neutral,” the visual signals do most of the work. The consumer feels reassured. They stop asking questions.

But sustainability isn’t a color palette. It’s a system.
And if your climate strategy can’t stand without the branding around it — then it’s probably not a strategy at all.

Who’s Verifying This Stuff?

This is the part no one wants to talk about — because it breaks the illusion.

Let’s say a brand tells you they’ve offset 100,000 tonnes of CO₂.
Okay, how?
Where?
Through what project?
And who verified that the project actually worked?

Most of the time, the answer is: a third-party registry like Verra or Gold Standard. These are organizations that issue and track carbon credits from offset projects — like forest protection, reforestation, renewable energy, or methane capture.

But just because a credit is certified doesn’t mean it’s high quality.

In fact, Verra has come under fire multiple times — especially after a 2023 investigation by The Guardian, Die Zeit, and SourceMaterial found that over 90% of Verra’s rainforest offsets were essentially junk. The forests were never under threat. The carbon savings were overestimated. And yet companies used these credits to make massive claims about climate responsibility.

It wasn’t fraud. It was just a system that no one was really checking.

So if you're a fashion brand trying to offset your emissions, the bar is pretty low. You can buy a ton of credits for cheap, get the certificate, and now — boom — you're “carbon neutral.”

That’s the loophole.

There’s no single global standard. No required public disclosure of offset portfolios. No consistent life cycle tracking across projects. Even if brands want to be responsible, the tools available right now aren’t built for real accountability — they’re built for volume.

And when the certification industry itself is built around selling credits, there’s a conflict of interest baked right in.

So when a brand says “we’ve offset all our emissions,” the better question is:
Offset how? Verified by who? And does that offset actually work?

If they can’t answer — or won’t — you already have your answer.

Fashion-Specific Red Flags

If there’s one thing the fashion industry is good at, it’s aesthetics. And that applies to sustainability too.

Here are the kinds of phrases that should make you pause:

• “We’re climate positive.”

• “Our collections are nature neutral.”

• “Carbon free fashion.”

• “Eco-forward.”

• “Sustainability is in our DNA.”

These aren’t regulated terms. They’re vibes. And once you know that, you start seeing them everywhere.

Sometimes the greenwashing is loud — like when a fast fashion brand releases a “Conscious Collection” made with 30% recycled polyester and then returns to business as usual.
Other times it’s subtle — like burying a tiny “offset verified” badge in the footer, or using copy-paste ESG language from an investor pitch in a product listing.

But here’s the kicker: the more confident a brand sounds, the more skeptical you should be.

Because the reality is, every fashion company is still trying to figure it out.
No one’s got it locked.
So if a brand is presenting like they’ve solved sustainability? Red flag.

Some brands go the other direction — total silence. This is where greenhushing comes in.
Brands that are afraid of scrutiny just stop saying anything at all. That might sound better than greenwashing, but it actually makes it harder to track progress or hold anyone accountable.
You can’t verify claims that don’t exist.

If you want to test a brand’s climate narrative, here’s a quick gut check:

• Do they disclose Scope 3 emissions and reduction plans?

• Do they specify which offsets they’re using and why?

• Do they clearly separate real reductions from purchased credits?

• Are they naming their challenges — not just their successes?

Because the brands that are doing real work?
They’ll tell you where they’re falling short.
They’ll admit what’s hard.
And they’ll never pretend the problem is solved with a tree icon and a headline.