A comment by the CEO of Uniqlo’s parent company Fast Retailing has ignited immense displeasure online

In slowly conquering the world, can Uniqlo ignore global concerns or national sensitivities? In an interview with the BBC last week, Fast Retailing CEO Yanai Tadashi said the company’s ubiquitous clothing stores Uniqlo do not source cotton from China’s Xinjiang region. It is where the US, concerned over human rights concerns, has imposed trade restrictions. Speaking to the British broadcaster from Tokyo, he asserted, when commenting on transparency concerning the provenance of Uniqlo’s fabrics, he said, “We’re not using cotton [cotton from Xinjiang].” Hesitatingly, he added: “By mentioning which cotton we’re using…” and then “actually, it gets too political if I say anything more, so let’s stop here.” Mr Tadashi not willing to go further with what is a complicated situation may be a sensible move, but in China, Netizens are unhappy with his comments, sensing overbearing pride.

The mere mention of Xinjiang cotton is political enough. In no time, Chinese consumers took to social media, such as Weibo, to vent, some describing Mr Tadashi’s thoughts as an “attitude” and the CEO as “arrogant”; some going as far as calling for a “boycott” of Uniqlo, a brand that has stayed largely neutral in the geopolitical fiasco. After the BBC story ran last Friday, 新疆绵 (xinjiangmian) or Xinjiang cotton topped Weibo’s 热搜排行 (resou paihang) or ‘hot search’ ranking. The support for Xinjiang cotton was palpable. Many said they would stop buying Uniqlo. A user went as far as to say “滚回老家去 (gunhui laojia qu or go back home, but sounds angrier in Mandarin)”. One Shanghai Panda wrote on X (possibly to speak to an international audience) in English: “UNIQLO rejected Xinjiang cotton. Chinese must reject UNIQLO.” He did not say why “not using” equates to “rejected”.

After the BBC story ran last Friday, 新疆绵 (xinjiangmian) or Xinjiang cotton topped Weibo’s ‘hot search’ ranking. The support for Xinjiang cotton was palpable. A user went as far as to say “滚回老家去 (gunhui laojia qu or go back home, but sounds angrier in Mandarin)”

Following the backlash in China, shares of Fast Retailing dropped as much as 4.5 percent, the most significant since 30 September, according to Bloomberg. Consumer anger is consequential, especially in China, where pride in their own resources could mean that any comments perceived to be anti-China is a direct insult. One Weibo user even said, “Learn from Trump and impose a 100% import tariff on Japanese garments.” While this may seem ironic, considering how the trade war has not ended and how much Chinese consumers love Japanese products, especially 日本版 (ribenban or Japanese edition/version) of anything, and go to Japan in droves to shop, increasingly palpable nationalism means any comment regarded as disrespectful to pride and spirit pivots Chinese consumers away from brands that are non-native.

In China, boycotts of foreign brands have happened before, in particular with the Xinjiang cotton issue. Look at H&M. In 2021, after expressing concerns for the allegations levelled at Xinjiang’s cotton production practices (labour especially), Chinese consumers encouraged boycotts against the brand as social media firestorm over H&M’s views broke out. To be sure, H&M was not the only western label spurned. Nearly a year later, Chinese shoppers boycotted some 78 Western brands—said to be “more than six times the number seen in the preceding eight years”, Bloomberg reported. The situation was compounded by rising appreciation and acceptance of local brands. When once Adidas and Nike, for example, were highly covetable, mainland consumers were increasingly drawn to China-born 安踏 (Anta) and 李宁 (Lining). Geopolitics aside, fashion has the increasingly fragile disposition of the Chinese and, indeed, global consumer to contend with.

Photo: Chin Boh Kay