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Just a few moments before the fashion giant unveiled a temporary store in Dijon during the summer, spray-painted messages were discovered on the facade accusing, “Shein harms” and “worker abuse, modern slavery, environmental damage.”

Yet, the fierce opposition surrounding its pop-up locations across the country in recent years—such as in several major French cities—did not stop the Chinese-founded fast fashion company from choosing the nation for its first long-term retail spaces.

Recently, the brand revealed a plan to establish stores in a prominent department store outlets in multiple urban centers and additionally in the BHV store in the capital.

Near the Hôtel de Ville, they are creating the large-scale Shein outlet, which – after destroying dozens of local labels – seeks to inundate the French market even more massively with throwaway items,” stated Yann Rivoallan, head of the fashion retailers’ body a French fashion federation.

An author and fashion journalist, explains: “The ultra-fast model is a paroxysm of disposability. It thrives on ephemerality, with intense promotion.”

However, she continues, the French aversion to the business model runs much deeper: “It contrasts with the national custom of keeping objects, of savoir-faire – Shein holds a negative perception that is ethical in nature.”

Yet in spite of this vocal criticism, with a Change.org petition calling for a Shein ban in France surpassing 270,000 signatures, the country has not remained untouched to the company’s steady growth over the past five years.

Its model, based on delivering purchases of low-cost apparel directly from Chinese factories to customers, reportedly brought in $1bn net profit the previous year, establishing it as not only a symbol of “hyper-fast clothing”, but one of its most lucrative companies. This comes amid criticism over its environmental impact and working practices, such as claims of coerced labor that the brand disputes and instances of underage workers that resulted in supplier contracts being terminated.

The brand’s achievement rests with the astonishing pace and quantity of its production designs, with 7,200 fresh products added on the site every day. “It represents an entirely new way of consuming – the scale is exponentially larger,” says the journalist. Between late 2022 and late 2023, the brand launched 1.5m products to the US market – approximately 37 times more than Zara and sixty-five times that than H&M, as reported by Reuters.

During the period of the Dijon pop-up opening, the French senate passed a law designed to restrict rapid-turnaround apparel, particularly companies such as the brand and its extremely cheap shopping rival Temu. The bill included a range of measures, from eco-taxes to a ban on advertising, limits to social media partnerships, mandatory disclosure of manufacturing methods, and allocation of collected funds towards local eco-friendly manufacturers.

This legislation was applauded by many as a step in the right direction, but raised eyebrows for differentiating so-called “classical” quick fashion (Zara, H&M and similar companies), and “hyper-fast clothing”. In fact, the former group is subject to more lenient rules. According to some, this distinction seems to make mainstream brands seem more responsible in contrast; according to other views, it is simply regarded as a method to undercutting rivals from China.

However France has its own history of rapid apparel production, originating from the a historic district, Paris’s traditional clothing area in the 2nd and 3rd arrondissements. From the 1970s onward, the quartier, together with other such wholesale districts (such as those in Marseille), pioneered a system based on quick production, small quantities, and short supply circuits, frequently restocked on demand rather by seasonal calendars.

This supported the emergence of cult – and affordable domestic brands such as Naf Naf, Kookaï, and Jennyfer, which thrived during the eighties and nineties, domestically and internationally, prior to moving manufacturing abroad and eventually disappearing or repositioning themselves. Towards the end of the twentieth century, the local model was surpassed by international labels such as major chains, who delocalised production and expanded sourcing and stock – a dynamic depicted in the popular movie series Would I Lie to You?, which is set in the district.

From a societal perspective, Abriat draws a parallel between the brand’s acceptance to the experience of the early days of H&M when it opened on a famous Paris street in the late nineties: “It was considered vulgar. Industry insiders regarded it as lacking in style or sophistication.” Now, she remarks, “these brands have become mainstream, fully accepted” while the newcomer has taken on the pariah role.

Attracting young shoppers, H&M radically shifted its image with a designer partnership in 2004, which sold out in just a few hours. From then on, the French style scene started embracing affordable fashion as part of the contemporary Parisian wardrobe.

Additional major retailers sought credibility by collaborating closely with renowned industry names. Emmanuelle Alt, former editor-in-chief of a leading fashion publication, partnered with the Spanish brand as a style advisor, while Suzanne Koller, founder of a style periodical and present style director at a French magazine, has worked repeatedly with the company, on fashion direction and styling. A fashion figure Caroline de Maigret participated in an fashion presentation. and French model Aymeline Valade has been featured in a Zara lookbook and publicly admitted to a fashion title that she shops there, for essential items.

A writer and influencer, comments: “In the capital, it is now normal to combine affordable brands, vintage, and luxury, each selected with skill. Parisians don’t go to Zara for bold items or imitations, but for everyday essentials: shirts, jeans, timeless staples.” Few admit to actually wearing the brand in daily life, though. “It’s not discussed,” notes Fontanel. “Or one might remark: ‘It’s surprising, but this is from Zara.’”

A key difference with Shein is its online presence, which signifies a cultural shift for older generations. French-British influencer and writer Camille Charrière, says: “The French still like to shop in stores, with their friends and family, during weekends. They don’t change outfits radically for social occasions on the weekend or at night, their purchases are less compulsive.”

Part of the appeal of ultra fast fashion stems from its diverse sizing: for numerous shoppers, it is still the sole company that accommodates a variety of figures. Larger-size offerings is still virtually non-existent in France, especially among mid- and high-end labels.

Ultra-fast fashion has also introduced new ways of consuming: online shopping, avoiding try-ons, and bulk ordering. Garments are frequently used just one time, thrown out or listed on resale sites – a drastic shift in pace, durability, and building a wardrobe.

Charrière emphasizes that there can be a “slow” approach to using budget apparel: “One shouldn’t torture oneself for purchasing affordable clothing. I have items from retailers from five years ago which I continue to use. To me the most important thing is to force myself to wear my purchases … to commit to wearing it.” {While that doesn