Architecture and design at the service of fast fashion? A bitter reflection on Zara’s 50th anniversary.

On October 6, Zara will launch a special collection to celebrate its fiftieth anniversary. Nothing new here: anniversaries and capsule collections are the bread and butter of contemporary marketing. But the news, reported in enthusiastic tones by the design press, is striking for one detail: some of the pieces are signed by renowned names in architecture and design, figures who often present themselves as cultural innovators, as interpreters of a discipline capable of imagining fairer and more sustainable futures.

How is it possible that these same voices have agreed to collaborate with a brand that stands as one of the clearest symbols of global fast fashion? Zara, and more broadly the Inditex group, is not just “affordable fashion”: it is a production system built on precarious labor conditions across its supply chains, on unsustainable production cycles, on waste and massive pollution. Numerous international investigations have documented insufficient wages, exhausting shifts, factories without union or environmental protections. And that is not all: the brand has been repeatedly linked to relationships with states and suppliers implicated in human rights violations, from accusations of exploiting Uyghur labor in China to its ambiguous role in geopolitical contexts marked by conflicts and ethnic cleansing.

In light of all this, the “Zara 50” operation appears as a massive attempt at cultural brandwashing. To legitimize its image, the company enlists famous designers, turning them into unwitting endorsers. It is a well-known strategy: when a toxic brand associates itself with the cultural prestige of creative figures, it does not just buy objects or drawings, it buys the social credibility those authors have built over time. And the message that gets across is simple: if they do it, then it must be fine.

Of course, Zara has announced that the proceeds from the collection will be donated to a charitable cause, the Women’s Earth Alliance. But can we really believe that a one-off donation, of an amount yet to be verified, is enough to wipe out decades of destructive practices? Isn’t this just another operation in greenwashing, where philanthropy serves merely to conceal systemic responsibilities?

The sore point lies precisely with the designers involved. It is naïve to think they did not know, that they were unaware of the implications. And if they did know, it is even worse: why did they accept? For visibility, for financial opportunity, for naivety? Or because, by now, even the most “committed” design has become incapable of distinguishing between cultural legitimacy and ethical compromise?

This story is not only about Zara. It is about architecture itself, its disciplinary identity, the role its protagonists choose to play in the world. At this point it is clear: we have hit rock bottom. Anything goes, as long as architecture remains attached to the production cycle of consumerism. It no longer matters if the client exploits, pollutes, destroys: what matters is that the discipline stays visible, continues to produce objects and signs—even if emptied of meaning. This is the total surrender of a culture that for decades claimed a social mission and now allows itself to be reduced to a decorative accessory for commercial anniversaries. There is no longer any distance between architecture and marketing: the project bends to the logic of the brand, delivers itself to the commodity, and renounces its critical potential.

The question we must ask is no longer only “what does fast fashion produce,” but “who legitimizes it.” What is the price of lending one’s name to such an operation? What narratives are betrayed when one agrees to stand inside the very mechanism that every day contributes to exploitation and poisoning of the world?

This is not about moralism, but about responsibility. If architecture and design truly want to be tools of social transformation, then the first step is to choose which side to stand on. And to stop becoming complicit, even through silence, with those who continue to build a global economy upon environmental ruin and exploited bodies.