2nd October 2026 – (Hong Kong) Yesterday we turned an Alo garment inside out and read the small label in the seam. It said polyester and elastane. It said nothing about how the fabric had been treated, what the factory next door was making or what might wash out of it in the years ahead. That gap is now the subject of a legal investigation in Texas, and it deserves a slow, careful look.
In April, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton issued a Civil Investigative Demand, which works much like a subpoena, to Lululemon. His office wants to know whether the brand’s clothing contains PFAS, the per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances known as “forever chemicals”. It also wants to know whether the brand’s marketing misled health-conscious customers. The probe covers testing, supply chains and marketing claims. “Americans should not have to worry if they are being deceived when trying to make healthy choices for themselves and their families,” Paxton said.
Lululemon’s reply is firm. “Lululemon does not use PFAS in its products,” a spokesperson said. The company says it once used them in durable water-repellent products, a small share of its range, and phased them out by early 2024. It says it requires suppliers to have restricted substances tested by credible third-party agencies. No wrongdoing has been proven. An investigation is a question, not a verdict.
PFAS have earned their nickname. They barely break down in soil, water or the human body, so they build up over a lifetime. The US Environmental Protection Agency links them to a higher risk of cancer and to harm to the immune and reproductive systems. Researchers quoted in recent reporting also link them to kidney disease, low birth weight, high cholesterol, impaired liver function, hormone disruption and fertility problems. The danger is not any single dose. It is the slow build-up of many small ones.
On this question, the evidence calls for patience rather than panic. Kelly Johnson-Arbor, a toxicologist at MedStar Health, says absorption through the skin is “probably not a very significant route of exposure” compared with food and water. Scott Bartell of UC Irvine calls leggings a “pretty small percentage of overall exposure”. The US Geological Survey estimates that at least 45% of American tap water contains PFAS.
But small is not zero, and activewear is not ordinary clothing. It sits tight against warm, sweating skin for hours, often every day. Jamie Alan, a pharmacologist at Michigan State University, notes that warmed skin “can inherently absorb more of anything”. Graham Peaslee of Duke University points to the groin, where thinner skin absorbs chemicals more readily. His Duke colleague Alyssa Wicks admits that scientists “don’t fully understand how PFAS permeate the skin”. When the science is unsettled, the garment worn closest to the body for longest deserves the most scrutiny, not the least.
The bigger harm is shared by everyone. Every wash may release PFAS into wastewater, and from there they can return in drinking water. “Even if I don’t wear leggings, I will be exposed to PFAS by everybody else who wears leggings with PFAS,” Peaslee wrote. Garments that end up in landfill leak the same chemicals into soil and water.
Yesterday we saw that recycled polyester is made mostly from old drinks bottles, rarely from old clothes. In one test, its fibres were also shorter, which makes them easier to swallow or breathe in. Microplastics and PFAS are different hazards, but they travel the same route. Both leave synthetic activewear in the washing machine and come back to us through water. A “recycled” tag tells you where the plastic came from. It tells you nothing about what was put on it.
Even honest brands face an awkward fact. Most activewear is made in large factories in China, Vietnam and other manufacturing hubs. “There could be another company right next door making clothes causing contamination,” Johnson-Arbor says. Wicks notes that PFAS can turn up in the oils used to keep machinery running. In one round of lab testing, PFAS were found in garments from Nike, Beyond Yoga and Alo Yoga. Alan adds that clothes made before Lululemon dropped PFAS are still in circulation, including in second-hand shops.
In most places, no law requires a label to disclose any of this. California and New York have banned intentionally added PFAS in clothing. But the word “intentionally” still leaves room for accidental contamination. So the label we urged readers to check yesterday has a limit. It lists fibres. It does not list finishes.
“This is not a panic moment,” says Alan. Exposure adds up over time, so deal with the biggest sources first. Filter your drinking water. Replace scratched non-stick pans. Check the ingredients in your cosmetics.
For activewear, ask whether a garment has a water-repellent or stain-resistant finish. Emeline Kuhner-Stout, chief executive of Elastique Athletics, says that is where the PFAS risk in textiles is concentrated. Look for OEKO-TEX Standard 100, which tests for more than 1,000 harmful substances, or GOTS certification, which bans PFAS. Throw out torn or peeling kit. If you sweat in synthetic leggings every day, consider cotton, merino or hemp for gentler sessions.
The Texas inquiry may well clear Lululemon. It should still change the conversation. The industry has asked shoppers to trust words such as “recycled”, “clean” and “free”. That trust should rest on proof. Until labels show what is on a garment as well as what it is made of, the part of our workout clothes that matters most will stay hidden.
