People are meticulous about what they put into their bodies—organic produce, filtered water—yet far less discerning, it seems, about what they put on them.
Recent headlines expose the gap. In early 2024, press-on nails sold on Temu reportedly sent an 11-year-old to the hospital. Months later, Shein faced scrutiny after one product tested 229 times over the legal limit for phthalate-based plasticizers in footwear.
As conversations around microplastics and chemical exposure intensify, a new category is emerging at the intersection of fashion, health and material science: plastic-free intimates.
For EDN, the idea began with a shift in how clothing is understood in relation to the body. Undergarments, the brand argues, should be treated as an extension of skincare—a layer in constant contact with the skin, worn for most of the day and capable of absorbing and transferring substances.
Founded by luxury strategist Matthew Domescek and creative technologist Mac Boucher, EDN (pronounced like the biblical garden) frames synthetic textiles not as a convenience, but as a public health issue—one tied to microfiber shedding and the widespread use of largely unregulated chemicals.
Underwear offered a logical starting point. “It’s something you wear for 12 to 18 hours a day,” Domescek said. “You sweat in it, you move in it; there’s friction. It’s constant contact.”
Reframing underwear as a functional extension of skincare means holding base layers to the same standards as topical products—a perspective that has guided both EDN’s material choices and its manufacturing approach.
“Polyester and synthetics in general all come from petroleum,” Domescek said. “To process that petroleum effectively, you need a ton of chemicals—to achieve moisture-wicking, stretch and durability.”
Removing synthetics, however, causes a considerable technical challenge: replicating performance without elastane.
“To make something truly plastic-free, like a men’s boxer brief that stays tight around the thigh wash after wash, you have to work with craftsmen at the mill and factory level who can accommodate the contours of the body,” he said.
The brand’s approach has been deliberately restrained. Each category undergoes nearly a year of development, testing and refinement before launch, resulting in a tightly edited product offering. “We didn’t drop a large range at the start for a reason,” Boucher said. “It’s rigorously sampled and fitted.”
That emphasis on craft is also a response to how the industry arrived at its current material landscape. As development progressed, the scope reached beyond plastic elimination alone. “It’s not enough to just be plastic-free,” Boucher said. “There are so many other things that could expose the body to harsh chemicals.”
Issues, such as misleading organic certifications, carcinogenic finishes and dye toxicity, introduced additional complexity—prompting the brand to implement traceability measures and independent lab testing across its supply chain.
“We publish all of our lab results,” Domescek said. “We want customers to know where everything comes from—the farms, the mills, the factories.”
For now, that system is managed internally, supported by a small network of closely vetted suppliers. The current assortment is primarily cotton-based, enabling tighter control over procurement and manufacturing.
“What we sell right now is 100 percent cotton,” Boucher said. “We have really strong relationships with a small number of factories. We understand the fabrics we’re using.”
Future expansion into categories such as sportswear and swim will require more technical materials—and with them, deeper scrutiny. “Bamboo, for example, sounds intuitive, but it often requires harsh chemicals to process,” Boucher said. “Tencel, on the other hand, is technically synthetic but works well for us.”
At the same time, the company is careful to distance itself from the more alarmist edges of the wellness economy, emphasizing transparency over fear-driven marketing.
“At the core, customers just don’t have the information,” Domescek said. “We want to open everything up so they can make informed decisions.”
Still, the cultural momentum is building. Increased awareness of microplastics, PFAS and hormone disruption is reshaping shopper expectations—particularly in categories closest to the body.
“To eliminate some of these variables just feels like a no-brainer,” Boucher said. “It’s almost disappointing that this doesn’t already exist.”
Scientific framing aside, adoption ultimately hinges on design.
“At the end of the day, we also make clothes,” Domescek said. “People want to feel good and sexy in them. It has to look good and feel good for any of the science to matter.”
This article was published in SJ’s sustainability report. Click here to read more.
