What really happens to old clothes dropped in collection boxes?

For the problem of nearly 30 million tons of unwanted clothing that Chinese people discard each year, many in China believe that putting them into donation bins in residential communities would be part of the solution, which also keeps those in need warm. But does this donated clothing really find its way to these people?

In China's northeastern city of Shenyang, evidence in some local communities somewhat suggests clothing donation is not purely charitable. A resident at Yuhong community told CGTN that after seeing red-vested volunteer collectors arriving at the neighborhood green collection bins every week, it cleared up her doubts of whether these clothes would be taken. However, she still has no idea where they would be sent. Zhang Li, director of the community's citizen service station, said many have come to her team for cooperation in placing donation bins, saying it was a big business opportunity. "We turned down those that don't seem like charity people," Zhang added.

Going with a truck that empties the collection boxes in Yuhong community, we find an organization named Liaoning Loving Volunteer Association, where the "red vests" and "green bins" belong. In their warehouse, articles in good condition are sorted out, washed, and packed. According to Zhu Haitao, chairman of the association, usually, over 80 percent of what they collect are good-quality clothes ready to be sent to less developed or disaster-prone areas in southwestern China. "And the rest can be smashed and fiberized to be used for producing stuffing of quilts," said volunteers of the association who haven't got enough money and technology to really carry out the plan.

Zhu has been working on clothing donation for years and he said recently disguised profit-makers have raised people's mistrust of them, making their work harder and more tiring. "We have to convince donors of what we are doing. Some charity-pretending firms even bribe community administrators to replace others' boxes with theirs," he explained.

Photos of rescue and relief work show that some of these clothes did bring smiles to many. But what worries some is that Zhou's charity is not properly registered. Simply put, these collectors are not necessarily regulated. The manager believes actions speak louder than a certificate. Yet he still hopes the government can standardize related regulations to supervise clothes recycling – to help distinguish charitable groups from commercial ones.

Meanwhile, not all the donated clothes end up like that. Clues on some other drop boxes take us to the city outskirts, where we find several clothing sorting plants. A factory manager admitted that old clothes gathered from downtown recycling spots are used for making shoddy cotton. Not long ago, local media in different Chinese cities found that used clothing collected in the name of "donations" was resold for considerable amounts of money. Some top quality items are exported overseas to make even more. An industry whistleblower who chose not to be identified gives CGTN some details, saying that most of the bins in Shenyang are placed by fabric sorting, recycling, and reprocessing companies, excluding the few that are working with the government.

As clothing waste continues to pile up across the nation, welfare organizations and commercial businesses need to work together.

But disguising a profit-driven operation with a charity front may harm donors and non-profits' willingness to do good.

(CGTN)