Often before dawn, parents lay out uniforms for the morning rush—starchy shirts hanging stiffly, jumpers threaded with names in clumsy handwriting, and backpacks lined up like soldiers. You hear the rustle of fabric and know every garment carries a story: where it came from, who stitched the seams, and what that little tag really means. That quiet moment of labeling a child’s jumper can spark bigger questions—about supply chains, ethics, and our responsibility as consumers. Ethical Schoolwear wasn’t born out of a desire to start a business—it came from a simple question. When Liam noticed the name on his son’s school jumper matched the name above the school uniform shop in Manchester, he asked who actually made the garments. The store couldn’t answer—and refused to engage further.

A Parent’s Question Turned Business Plan

Headlines exposed major fast fashion brands in the region for unethical practices: sweatshop conditions, underpaid workers, canceled orders mid-shipment. The contrast was stark—Ferraris out front, exploitation in the back. “It just didn’t sit right,” Liam said.

That led to research, which led to discovery. He found a worker-owned, ethically certified supplier that didn’t sell directly to consumers—but only to shops. So when his family moved to Northern Ireland, he pitched the local school on offering ethical uniforms as a parent-led alternative. They said yes.

“I say ‘we’ on the site,” Liam laughed, “but it’s just me.” In year one, he partnered with two schools. Word spread. By the end of year two, it was six. Now he’s at nine and counting. And every order planted a tree—each named by the customer, each given a carbon offset value.

What started as a side project is now growing into a serious seasonal business. “I sell uniforms in summer,” Liam said. “And I plant trees in winter.”

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Growing Slowly, On Purpose

The business is 80% embroidered uniforms sold directly to parents, with 20% plain stock sold year-round—mostly to England. And it’s entirely seasonal: revenue peaks between June and September, then quiets down until the following summer.

Rather than push hard on sales, Ethical Schoolwear grows by word of mouth. Schools list the site voluntarily, parents share with other parents, and PR moments—like a BBC interview and a Belfast Telegraph feature—have amplified the brand’s ethos and reach.

“I tried cold calling,” Liam said. “It didn’t work. Schools aren’t in the headspace for that. Now, I just let the reputation speak for itself.”

Storage is the current bottleneck. Operating from a small farm, Liam’s converted an old workshop into a warehouse—and plans to expand into unused stables next year to handle growing SKUs, PE kits, and leavers hoodies.

He keeps twelve of each size in stock per item and reorders at four, striking a careful balance between availability and cash flow. “Uniforms don’t go out of fashion,” he said. “But I don’t want piles of stock sitting there unused for months.”

Looking ahead, the goal is simple: more schools. For now, Ethical Schoolwear is still a one-person operation—but it’s changing the way school uniforms get made, bought, and worn in the UK.

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