BY ANGELA FAIRHURST
We’ve long known the environmental toll of fast fashion. But now another industry is rapidly crowding landfills and quietly fueling the climate crisis: fast furniture. Driven by low prices, instant delivery, and disposable design trends, fast furniture has become a staple in many households. But behind its affordability is a trail of waste, emissions, and unsustainable materials.
According to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), more than 12 million tons of furniture and furnishings were discarded in 2018 — an increase of 2.2 million tons since 1960, with over 80% ending up in landfills. “People have started to treat furniture like fashion,” said designer Harry Nuriev at Design Miami, where he showcased a sofa made entirely of trash bags to critique our culture of disposability. “We change our minds quickly, move often, and discard things without thinking.”
A big part of the problem lies in the materials. Unlike solid wood or steel, fast furniture is typically made from veneer-covered particleboard, MDF, and plastic- laminated composites — materials that are difficult to repair or recycle. A single dent or cosmetic flaw often renders these pieces unfixable and destined for the curb.
The emissions story is equally troubling. Furniture production is resource-intensive, requiring large-scale logging, water use, chemical treatment, and long- distance shipping. One piece of fast furniture can emit more than 47 kilograms of CO2 — the equivalent of burning five gallons of gasoline. But not all design is destructive. For some leaders in the space, these problems have become a call to action. For Katie Treggiden, author of “Wasted: When Trash Becomes Treasure,” the wake-up moment came after returning to her rural hometown of Cornwall, England.
“When I moved back in 2017, it didn’t feel like the same place,” she recalls. “You rarely saw bats, the fish were gone, the molehills disappeared. A recent WWF report shows a 73% loss in biodiversity in roughly the time I’ve been alive, which is not okay.” Treggiden realized that many of these environmental problems stem from the objects we design and consume — and that more than 80% of a product’s impact is determined at the design stage. “That means there’s a huge opportunity to do better,” she says. “And I’m excited by that.” True circular design, she explains, goes beyond durability and recyclability.
“The Ellen MacArthur Foundation defines the circular economy by three principles: design out waste and pollution, keep materials and objects in use, and regenerate natural systems. If we can do all three, we’re getting much closer to true circularity.” One company moving in that direction is Home Reserve, a U.S.-based brand that designs modular sofas with replaceable parts — from cushion covers to full frame components. Their “renewable furniture” model makes it easy to refresh a piece rather than replace it entirely.
Globally, Deartree Circular Furniture, founded in Beijing in 2009, is setting the standard in the commercial sector. Specializing in the reuse, refurbishment, and resale
of high-end office furniture, Deartree has relocated nearly 940,000 pieces since 2021 — preventing more than 22,000 tons of CO2 emissions in the process. Their services span disassembly, warehousing, installation, cleaning, and even redesign — showing how large-scale reuse can work.
Even fast-furniture giant IKEA is beginning to shift, piloting its “Buyback & Resell” program and pledging to use only renewable or recyclable materials by 2030 as part of a broader net-zero goal. Still, Treggiden cautions consumers to be vigilant.
“Look out for vague or grandiose claims like ‘100% sustainable,’ or convenient phrases like ‘where possible.’ I’d much rather a company be transparent and say, ‘72% of our fabrics are recycled, and we’re working on the rest.’”
Certifications like FSC, GOTS, and B Corp also help verify brands’ claims.
She believes the best lessons come not from massive corporations, but from smaller craftspeople.
“It’s more about replicability than scale. Scale is what got us into this mess. Many small makers are inherently circular — using waste as raw material or designing for disassembly and repair.”
So, what can the average consumer do?
“Start with secondhand,” says Treggiden. “You get higher-quality pieces, no toxic off-gassing, and a more interesting interior. Online marketplaces, local auctions, or simply rearranging what you already have can go a long way.”
When buying new, she recommends skipping trends and looking for certifications like GoodWeave for rugs or GOTS for textiles. Ultimately, circularity is as much about mindset as it is about design strategy.
“Many of the people I interviewed prefer the term ‘second-life materials’ over ‘waste,’” she says. “In a perfectly circular economy, waste wouldn’t exist at all.”
If we shift from trend-based buying to value-based investing — in quality, sustainability, and reusability — we can create homes that support the planet as much as they support us. The best design trend isn’t new; it’s responsible.
