You already read labels. Just not this one.

You check the label on your cereal box. You look up what's in your moisturizer before it goes on your face. You've probably learned to scan for the things you'd rather avoid: added sugar, parabens, synthetic fragrance.

Then you get dressed, or climb into bed wrapped in fabric that touches your skin for hours at a stretch, and there's almost nothing to read. A fiber composition tag, maybe a country of origin. That's it.

It's not that anyone hid this information from you. It's that textiles, as a category, were never asked to disclose it in the first place.

Why don't textiles already have a label like this?

This is really the question at the center of everything we built. Food companies list ingredients because regulation and consumer pressure eventually required it. Cosmetics followed a similar path. Textiles never went through that reckoning, even though the clothes and bedding you own sit against your skin longer than almost anything else you own.

So we asked a simpler question: what would transparency look like if textiles were treated like products that affect human health?

What is the Textile Health Facts label?

Textile Health Facts is a voluntary transparency framework, not a government standard, and not a certification body. It's a communication tool designed to answer four questions for anyone holding the product:

• What fiber and dye is actually in this, and in what percentage?
• What independent certifications back up the claims?
• How was it produced, and can that be verified?
• What does the available lab data actually say, and what does it not say?

The format borrows its visual grammar directly from the Nutrition Facts panel, because that panel is arguably the most successful consumer transparency tool of the last fifty years. People already know how to read it. We didn't want to invent a new visual language; we wanted to use one that already works.

Where did the idea come from?

The visual concept wasn't ours originally. It was popularized during the pandemic by UK industrial designer Peter Gorse, who shared a Nutrition Facts–style mockup for textiles that spread widely online because it made a complicated topic instantly legible.

We brought Peter on as a consultant and worked with him to turn that idea into a complete framework one with real traceability data and real lab testing behind it, not just a compelling design.

The project was later reviewed by journalist Alden Wicker, whose reporting has helped bring textile chemistry and skin exposure into mainstream conversation, including her coverage for Wired on dye-related health concerns in bedding and clothing. Author of To Dye For

Why would a textile company think this way?

Because we didn't start as a textile company. Our founders came from healthcare manufacturing, FDA-registered facilities, medical-device supply chains, and quality documentation, where traceability isn't a marketing feature. It's a baseline requirement.

We noticed that the category we moved into treats traceability as optional, even though textiles spend more uninterrupted time against human skin than almost any medical device does. That gap is what Textile Health Facts is trying to close.

What does Seed-to-Sheet™ actually mean?

Seed-to-Sheet™ is the traceability system underneath the label. Every batch can be followed through four production stages:

No regulation requires us to publish this. We do it because a supply chain you can't see isn't really a supply chain you can trust; it's just a story.

What the lab data does — and doesn't — say

Part of the label discloses independent lab results, for instance, bacterial and fungal reduction figures reported as percent inhibition under a specific test method.

A question bigger than one label

The more interesting story here isn't "a textile company made a label." It's the question underneath it: why did food, cosmetics, and medicine all get transparency standards decades ago, while textiles the fabric you wear and sleep in every day never did?

We don't think Textile Health Facts is the end of that conversation. We think it's a reasonable place to start one.