Only a couple of hours prior to Shein unveiled a pop‑up shop in Dijon during the summer, spray-painted messages appeared on the facade stating, “Shein kills” and “exploitation, forced labour, slavery, pollution.”
However, the fierce opposition to its series of temporary outlets across the country in the past few years—including in several major French cities—has not deterred the Chinese-founded quick-turnaround fashion brand from selecting France for its inaugural permanent physical stores.
Recently, it announced an initiative to open shops in Galeries Lafayette outlets in five cities and additionally in the BHV store in the capital.
Near the Hôtel de Ville, they are creating the new Shein megastore, which – after destroying many local labels – aims to flood our market on a larger scale with throwaway items,” stated a fashion industry representative, head of the fashion retailers’ body Fédération Française du Prêt à Porter Féminin.
Sophie Abriat, says: “This rapid-production approach is the extreme of wastefulness. It thrives on ephemerality, with intense promotion.”
However, she adds, the French aversion to the trend runs much deeper: “It differs from French culture’s tradition of preserving items, of craftsmanship – the brand carries a negative perception that is ethical in nature.”
Still in spite of this vocal criticism, including an online petition calling for a Shein ban in France now having topped 270,000 signatures, France has not been immune to the company’s steady growth over the past five years.
Its model, relying on shipping orders of cheap clothes straight from Chinese factories to customers, allegedly earned $1bn net profit last year, making it not only a figurehead of “ultrafast fashion”, but one of its most lucrative companies. This comes amid concerns regarding ecological harm and working practices, including allegations of forced labour that the brand disputes and instances of underage workers that led to supplier contracts being terminated.
Its success stems from the mind-boggling speed and volume with which it can produce styles, with thousands of new items listed on the platform daily. “It represents an completely different approach of consuming – everything is multiplied by a hundred,” says the journalist. Over a recent twelve-month period, the brand launched 1.5m products to the American market – roughly 37 times more than a competing retailer and 65 times more than another major brand, as reported by a news agency.
During the period of the Dijon pop-up opening, the national legislature approved a law aimed at curtailing ultra-fast fashion, specifically platforms like the brand and its ultra-low cost shopping rival another online retailer. The bill included a range of measures, from eco-taxes to a ban on advertising, limits to social media partnerships, required reporting of manufacturing methods, and allocation of taxed revenues towards French sustainable producers.
The bill was praised by many as a positive development, but raised eyebrows for distinguishing between so-called “classical” quick fashion (established brands and similar companies), and “hyper-fast clothing”. Indeed, the first category faces more lenient rules. According to some, this separation appears to render mainstream brands seem more responsible by comparison; for others, it is seen as a method to weakening rivals from China.
However The nation boasts a long tradition of fast fashion, originating from the Sentier, Paris’s historic garment district in the central neighborhoods. From the 1970s onward, the quartier, together with other such wholesale districts (such as those in the port city), pioneered a model based on rapid turnaround, limited runs, and localized sourcing, frequently restocked as needed instead of fixed schedules.
This supported the rise of cult – and affordable homegrown high street labels such as several well-known names, which thrived through the 1980s and 1990s, both in France and abroad, prior to moving manufacturing abroad and eventually disappearing or repositioning themselves. Towards the end of the twentieth century, the Sentier’s system was surpassed by international labels such as H&M and Zara, who relocated manufacturing and expanded procurement and inventory – a trend portrayed in the French film saga Would I Lie to You?, which is located in the area.
On a cultural level, Abriat draws a parallel between the brand’s acceptance to that of the early days of H&M when it opened on Paris’s rue de Rivoli in 1998: “It was considered vulgar. The fashion elite saw it [as] lacking in style or sophistication.” Today, she remarks, “they have been worked into actual labels, fully accepted” while Shein has taken on the outcast status.
Appealing to young shoppers, H&M dramatically changed its image with Karl Lagerfeld’s collaboration in 2004, which was exhausted in just a few hours. From then on, the French style scene began to accept high-street pieces as part of the contemporary Parisian wardrobe.
Other fast-fashion megabrands sought credibility by collaborating closely with prominent fashion figures. A former magazine editor, ex-head of a leading fashion publication, worked with Zara as a style advisor, while Suzanne Koller, founder of Self Service magazine and present style director at M le Magazine du Monde, has collaborated extensively with the brand, on fashion direction and styling. A fashion figure a well-known model participated in an H&M runway show. and French model Aymeline Valade has been featured in a brand catalog and publicly admitted to W magazine that she shops there, for essential items.
Sophie Fontanel, says: “Here in Paris, it has become common to mix affordable brands, secondhand finds, and high-end pieces, all with a certain knowhow. Locals don’t go to such stores for statement pieces or counterfeits, but for basics: classic clothing items.” Hardly anyone confesses to actually wearing the label in daily life, however. “It’s not discussed,” notes the influencer. “Or you say: ‘It’s surprising, but this is from Zara.’”
One major distinction regarding the new brand is its digital footprint, which represents a change in habits for more mature shoppers. French-British influencer and writer Camille Charrière, says: “The French still like to shop in stores, with their friends and family, during weekends. Their style remains consistent for social occasions in the evening, their purchases are less compulsive.”
Some of the attraction of hyper-fast clothing stems from its size inclusivity: for numerous shoppers, it remains the only brand that accommodates diverse body types. The plus-size market is still virtually non-existent in the country, especially among premium brands.
Ultra-fast fashion has brought about novel shopping habits: digital purchases, avoiding try-ons, and bulk ordering. Clothing items are frequently used just one time, thrown out or resold on secondhand platforms – a significant change in pace, durability, and building a wardrobe.
The influencer stresses that there can be a “considered” approach to using fast fashion: “One shouldn’t torture oneself about wearing affordable clothing. I have items from retailers from five years ago that I still wear. To me the key factor is to force myself to wear my purchases … to commit to wearing it.” {While that doesn
