When I got a rash from wearing shorts, I didn’t know what to make of it. Where was this coming from? I had been swimming earlier that day. Did the water mix with something in the shorts?.. Soon I noticed rashes from wearing my socks for a long period of time. My family has a long history of autoimmune disorders, so I went to the doctor. After telling my story and showing some pictures, my doctor concluded I was experiencing topical allergic reactions to something on — or in — my clothing. She suggested I see a chemical allergist. Even then, I thought to myself:

 

“How complicated can a pair of shorts be?” 

 

That’s also the question investigative fashion journalist Alden Wicker asked herself in To Dye For, her award winning book about how the chemical dyes in our clothing are harming us.

 

Through a series of historical and individual stories Wicker uncovers the underreported problem of clothing chemicals. Wicker masterfully weaves together the stories of  different peoples’ lives, painting personal pictures of people from across the globe — telling bits and pieces until the realization hits. The common thread the whole time has been something so essential to their everyday lives: clothing.

 

Her journey starts in 2019, when Wicker got a tip that flight attendants from Alaska, American, Delta, and more were experiencing rashes.  Some even experienced hives, breathing difficulties, sore throats, cough, blurred vision, and fatigue. The suspected cause? Their uniforms. 

 

Airline executives dismissed the possibility. Studies showed no chemicals exceeding “safe” limits.  The companies insisted  it was “individual sensitivities”. 

 

This led Wicker down a rabbit hole, as she tried to figure out why the uniforms were causing the issues they were. Little did she know that the issues of chemical dyes extended far beyond just flight attendants. 

 

There was Jaclyn, a fashion production manager from New York, who would inhale chemical fumes from overseas shipments of clothes that eventually triggered severe Crohn’s. Then Karly, whose son’s terrible eczema soothed once she gave him clothes from organic fabric. And finally Debbie, a healthcare worker from Upstate New York, whose hometown tanneries exposed her to harmful levels of chromium that caused issues from endometriosis and cervical cancer. 

 

It turns out that the problem was more complex than anyone previously thought. While consumers may see a clothing tag that says “100% cotton” or “50% nylon, 50% wool”, those tiny labels obscure the complex chemical processes needed to make clothing fabric. 

 

While individually, the chemical treatments each material undergoes might be below the permitted limit, no one knows if there really are any “safe” limits. Chemical sensitivity is an under researched subject and little is known about the chemical effects in relation to one another.

 

Unlike food or beauty products, which are regulated by the federal government, there are few limits on the chemicals used to manufacture and treat clothing in the United States. Only lead, cadmium, and phthalates are regulated and tested for in the US. Wicker described the US as the “wild west” of the clothing industry — it is way behind the rest of the world in regulating clothing chemicals. 

 

And there should be other regulations. The European Union has many more regulations than the US, including — for example — on azo dyes. Azo dyes are common dyes used in the fashion industry to color polyester fabric. The problem emerges when these dyes come in contact with human skin bacteria and they release a “building block” chemical animes, which are known to cause cancer in humans. Even then, industry experts claim that little animes would not get into the human body from dyed clothing.

 

But those claims overlook two things: the ability for particles to shed from the clothing and a segment of the population that is notorious for crawling everywhere and putting grubby little hands in mouths… Children. One group of researchers Wicker interviewed found a correlation between azo dyes in children’s clothing and house dust. Not only did they find azo dyes in every single household, but one child’s shirt tested for dye levels a hundred times that of the EU limits. Conclusion? Children were probably ingesting known carcinogens.

 

If children are ingesting carcinogens and people are getting major rashes, why are there no regulations?

 

In the eyes of the US government, they no longer manufactures most of its own clothing. That’s a problem for China, India, and other manufacturing countries (which also happen to be countries where regulations are lax). But if the people wearing the clothes are suffering, what about the makers?

 

To find out, Wicker goes to India to visit garment and dyehouse workers. Not only do they suffer from lack of sleep, long working hours, and malnutrition, they too suffer from painful skin ailments and blisters and respiratory problems from harmful dyes. One worker said that his uncle’s hand had become shiny and brittle from working in the dyehouse. A garment sewer said her blisters improved after she quit a few months earlier, but her legs were still covered in painful sores.

 

And while azo dyes are a modern example of the risks of making clothes, this is nothing new  Wicker goes back in time to track how clothing —  specifically the materials that create them — has always been an issue. From the arsenic dyes of Victorian England to the mad hatters of France, how clothing has been made has caused problems.

 

Why bring this up? Well history has shown that regulation can protect both workers and consumers! Wicker is hopeful that — like in the past — Americans can band together and pressure our government to do something about the chemicals we’re being exposed to on a daily basis. In some states, they already have. California, Maine, and Washington have already passed legislation to detoxify consumer products.

 

While hopeful, Wicker leaves us on a bittersweet note. Wicker talks about what happened with the flight attendants. The Alaska flight attendant’s case against the clothing was thrown out.  American flight attendants had more success.  They  proved their uniforms contained  harmful chemicals, including a pesticide so potent it was banned by EPA in the 60’s. That  small victory is a reminder of how much more work there is to do to protect us from our own clothing. 

 

When I go to my allergist appointment in January, I will be keeping these stories in mind. But Wicker’s point it’s not just to relay that there’s a problem, but that the problem is one that all of us must confront.