1. 'Made from Recycled Plastic Bottles'
This is one of the most common claims, but it’s more complicated than it sounds. Turning a polyethylene terephthalate (PET) bottle into fabric for a swimsuit is a form of downcycling. While it keeps bottles out of landfills *once*, it takes them out of the closed-loop
system where they could become new bottles again and again. Creating fiber from bottles is an energy-intensive process, and once it becomes a swimsuit, it can’t be recycled back into a bottle—or, in most cases, anything at all. A better system would prioritize turning old bottles back into new bottles. While using recycled polyester (rPET) is arguably better than using virgin polyester, it’s not a perfect solution. It's a stop-gap measure that doesn't solve the core problem of our reliance on plastic-based textiles.
2. 'Crafted with Ocean Plastic'
The image this conjures is heroic: divers pulling ghost nets and floating garbage from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch to knit into a bikini. The reality is usually less dramatic. Most material marketed as “ocean plastic” is actually “ocean-bound plastic.” This means it was collected from beaches, waterways, and coastal communities *before* it had a chance to enter the ocean. This is still a valuable cleanup effort, but it’s not the same as recovering plastic that has been degrading in the sea for years. Some critics argue the term is misleading marketing, capitalizing on our emotional connection to ocean conservation. Furthermore, the volume of plastic actually recovered is often a tiny fraction of a brand's total material use, but it gets an outsized portion of the marketing.
3. 'Our Fabrics are Eco-Friendly'
“Eco-friendly” is the ultimate greenwashing buzzword because it means absolutely nothing. It is a vague, unregulated term that any brand can slap on a tag. Without specifics, it’s a massive red flag. What makes it “eco”? Is it the material, the dyeing process, the water usage, the factory conditions? A truly transparent brand will tell you. Instead of falling for vague terms, look for specifics. Are they using a branded recycled material like ECONYL® (regenerated nylon from waste like fishing nets and fabric scraps) or Repreve® (recycled polyester)? Do they have certifications like OEKO-TEX®, which tests for harmful substances, or Global Recycled Standard (GRS), which verifies recycled content and responsible production? Vague is bad; specific is better.
4. 'This Swimsuit is Carbon-Neutral'
Achieving true carbon neutrality in manufacturing is incredibly difficult. More often than not, this claim relies on the purchase of carbon offsets. Here’s how it works: a company calculates its carbon emissions and then invests in an external project—like planting trees or funding a renewable energy farm—that is meant to “offset” its environmental impact. While offsets can have positive effects, they are controversial. Critics argue they allow companies to continue polluting with a clear conscience, rather than fundamentally changing their business practices to reduce emissions at the source. It’s like paying someone else to go to the gym for you. Look for brands that are actively reducing their own footprint first—through renewable energy, less wasteful patterning, and localized supply chains—before you get excited about their offset programs.
5. The Unspoken Problem: Microplastics
Here's the inconvenient truth that few swimwear brands want to discuss: all synthetic fabrics, whether virgin or recycled, shed microplastics. Every time you wear your swimsuit in the ocean or run it through the wash, tiny plastic fibers break off and enter our waterways. These microplastics are a pervasive and persistent pollutant, accumulating in ecosystems and even our own bodies. No recycled nylon swimsuit has solved this issue. While choosing recycled materials over new ones reduces the demand for fossil fuels, it doesn't stop the flow of microplastics. The only way to mitigate this is to wash your suit less, wash it by hand or in a special bag designed to catch fibers (like a Guppyfriend bag), and ultimately, to buy fewer, better-made suits that you’ll keep for years.
