From The Founder
I've been riding in recycled cycling jerseys for a while now. Not always. In fact, the first time someone pointed out my jersey was made from plastic bottles, I was sceptical. It sounded more like a marketing trick than anything you'd really notice on the road. But over time, I’ve changed my mind. Or maybe I just started paying closer attention.
Let’s be clear from the start: this isn’t a piece about how you must wear recycled jerseys or how it’ll save the planet. That kind of pressure rarely helps. This is more a mix of thoughts and questions that come up when you actually ride in these things, think about them, or maybe, just maybe, care a little about what you wear and where it comes from.
So, what is a recycled cycling jersey?
At its core, it’s simple: instead of making fabric from new, virgin materials like petroleum-based polyester, brands are now using yarns made from recycled content. That often means post-consumer PET bottles or industrial waste like offcuts. The idea is to reduce the demand for raw materials, cut emissions, and give plastic waste a second life.
It sounds straightforward, but the reality is a bit more layered.
Does it actually make a difference?
That’s the question, right? On the one hand, yes. Using recycled polyester uses less energy and water than producing virgin fibres. It can also divert plastic waste from landfills or oceans. According to some sources, making fabric from recycled PET can reduce CO2 emissions by up to 30 to 50 percent.
But the numbers vary depending on the supplier, the recycling method, and what exactly is being measured. That’s where it gets murky. Not all recycled content is equal. Some is mechanically recycled, some chemically. Some includes ocean-bound plastic. Others don’t.
Honestly, I sometimes lose track of the specifics. I just know it feels better to wear something that wasn’t made from scratch at the cost of more fossil fuels. And perhaps that’s enough for now.
Is it still high performance?
Short answer: yes. The recycled jerseys I’ve worn feel just like any other well-made kit. Breathable, lightweight, fast-drying. Some are even softer, surprisingly. I’ve used them on long summer rides, early autumn climbs, and a couple of grimy spring loops where everything gets wet.
That said, the quality depends on the brand and how the material’s handled. Some recycled fabrics are more prone to pilling or losing shape after repeated washes. Others hold up great.
So I guess the lesson is: don’t assume recycled means “less than.” It doesn’t. But also don’t assume they’re all built the same. That part still takes trying, asking questions, maybe even reading the tag.
Does it cost more?
Sometimes. But not always. A lot of brands are pricing their recycled jerseys in the same range as regular high-quality kits. At Label Collective, we decided not to make recycled synonymous with premium pricing. If we want people to adopt this stuff, it has to feel accessible, not like a luxury.
I’ve had friends say they’re happy to pay a few euros more if it means a better product story. Others don’t care unless it fits well and looks sharp. Both make sense to me.
But is it really sustainable?
That’s a tougher question. Recycled doesn’t automatically mean sustainable. The bigger picture includes how the jersey is made, how long it lasts, what happens to it when it’s worn out, and whether people actually use it often. Durability matters more than most of us think.
There’s also the whole issue of microplastics. Every time we wash synthetic clothes, they shed fibres. That includes recycled ones. Solutions like washing bags, filters, or better fabric construction help, but the problem is still there. We haven’t solved it.
That said, if we’re already using synthetics in cycling because of their performance benefits, isn’t it better to choose ones with a lower impact?
So, why choose recycled?
For me, it’s simple: it’s a better choice in the same category. It’s not about perfection. Just progress.
It means wearing something I feel good in and good about. It helps me support brands doing things with care. And yeah, it’s a small signal that I’m not totally ignoring the bigger picture.
Not every ride has to be a statement. But it doesn’t hurt if your jersey makes one.
Common concerns and real thoughts
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It’s just greenwashing. Possibly, yes. Some brands slap on the word “recycled” with no proof or with 5% recycled content. That’s not helpful. Always look for real information. Certifications like GRS (Global Recycled Standard) help. Still, even with that, you have to trust the supply chain. Transparency matters.
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The fabric feels different. Sometimes. Some people say they notice it, others don’t. Personally, I don’t think I could tell in a blind test. But even if I could, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Different isn’t worse.
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One jersey won’t fix anything. True. But hundreds of thousands of jerseys made this way? That’s a shift. Especially if it pushes the industry toward better practices overall.
Trends and where this is going
More and more brands are moving in this direction. Not just small niche ones, either. Big names are slowly building recycled lines, and some are experimenting with circular models where you can send back your old kit for recycling or repurposing.
But it’s slow. Production systems are still catching up. Supply chains are complicated. And demand is uneven. I think some people still don’t trust that recycled can mean high-performance. That might change as more pro teams wear them, or as early adopters (like some of us) keep talking about the experience.
What about fit and design?
Here’s the good news: nothing is compromised. At least not anymore. The earliest versions of recycled kit I tried were a bit stiff. Not bad, just... less flexible.
But the new ones? They stretch well, breathe well, and don’t sag. Fit is snug where it should be. No weird seams. And the prints look sharp. Colours hold after washes.
Honestly, if nobody told you it was recycled, you wouldn’t know.
Is it for everyone?
Maybe not. I don’t expect every rider to make the switch. Some people are loyal to their brands or just want to wear what works. That’s fine.
But for anyone curious or open to trying something new, I’d say go for it. Even if it’s just one piece. Start with a summer jersey. Or a vest. Or a pair of bibs if you’re feeling brave.
And ask questions. Where is the material from? How much of it is recycled? Does the brand say what happens when it’s worn out?
Where Label Collective fits into this
When we created our SS25 collection, the goal wasn’t to make a statement jersey. It was to make a great one. One that performs just as well as any top-tier kit, with the added benefit of being made from recycled fabrics.
We didn’t want that to be the headline. We wanted it to be normal. Expected, even.
So we worked with mills that offered certified recycled yarns. We kept the design clean, sharp, timeless. No flashy gimmicks, no over-design. Just a jersey you’ll want to wear again and again. One you can throw in the wash, hang to dry, and take out for your next long ride.
And the feedback? It’s been positive. Riders notice the comfort, the breathability. Some didn’t even realise it was recycled until we told them. That feels like a win.
Final thought (or maybe just an ongoing one)
I’m not trying to convince you. I just want to share what I’ve noticed. The little things that add up.
Like how it feels when your kit reflects your values. Or how it changes the conversation when someone asks what you’re wearing.
Or how it starts to feel strange not to choose recycled when the option is there, when it performs well, looks good, and costs the same.
Maybe that’s the real shift. Not in the tech or the fabric. But in the expectation.
That’s something I can get behind.
Even if I’m still not sure I’ve figured it all out.
