This article is a contribution from Next Gen Assembly 2024 Member Joy Obiageri Dimgbah.
We’ve seen the headlines. Tweets calling out unpaid wages. Stories that make the rounds, stir outrage, then disappear.
Unpaid or underpaid labour in the fashion industry, especially in under-regulated spaces across the Global South, remains a persistent issue. While social media offers exposure, it rarely delivers justice. Workers can be left with viral visibility but little structural support. And though the outrage may be loud, follow-through is often silent.
As a Next Gen Assembly member and contributor to the Wellbeing Playbook, I have come to see workers’ rights not as a separate concern, but as a core part of what it means to value human and planetary wellbeing in fashion. Through our framework, the Wellbeing Spiral, we explored how the industry can evolve through unlearning, ideation, and structural shift.
In the context of labour rights, this means:
– Unlearning : Dismissing the false idea that exploitative labour is just “how the industry works,” especially for entry-level or freelance creatives and garment workers.
– Ideation : Envisioning new systems, legal templates, support funds, and grievance platforms that centre worker protection as a non-negotiable.
–Shift : Taking advocacy beyond outrage and into implementation, particularly through policies and structures that can be adopted at scale.
One model worth studying is New York’s Fashion Workers Act, championed by the Model Alliance and signed into law in December 2024. Set to take effect in June 2025, the law finally grants models access to contracts and deal memos, transparency around fees and agency charges, safeguards against harassment, and formal channels to report violations without fear of retaliation. For the first time, model management companies will be registered with the state and legally obligated to act in the best interests of the people they represent, including protections against the misuse of artificial intelligence. This wasn’t handed down from the top, it was the result of a three-year campaign led by a dedicated Worker Council, backed by a small team and thousands of supporters who lobbied, testified, and mobilised across New York. It’s a powerful reminder that advocacy, when rooted in lived experience, can become policy. And while the bill was written for models in New York, its message echoes globally: if it’s possible here, it’s possible elsewhere.
What if fashion workers in Lagos, Nairobi, or São Paulo had localised versions of these protections tailored to context, but rooted in the same principles? Efforts from some activist groups that are anchored in storytelling, legal advocacy, and community organising, remind us that change must be rooted in memory, activism, and collective will. If we remember the names but not the systems, we risk repeating the silence that made such tragedies possible.
Without follow-through, visibility can be just another performance. Advocacy must not only start with outrage but endure beyond it. We must build these post-outrage systems. This includes legal literacy programmes that equip garment workers with the tools to understand and claim their rights, making activism truly people-centred, as well as community-led contracts, anonymous reporting hubs, and industry-wide codes of conduct that mean something. These shouldn’t be “extras”—they should be standard practice.
From garment workers in Bangladesh to freelance stylists in the UK, to models in Nigeria, the struggle connects us. It demands a fashion future where value isn’t measured in likes but in livelihoods. We owe it to the people who make fashion happen to ensure their stories don’t just trend, they transform.
And for those of us who advocate, especially from regions where systems are fragile, the real question isn’t if we speak; it’s what we build after the speaking ends, because the work begins after the echo fades. May we not just speak for fashion workers, but build the systems that speak with them.