Discursive constructions of critical consumer identity on social media: between authentic advocacy and greenwashing accusations

Introduction

The global fashion industry stands at a critical juncture, where heightened consumer awareness of environmental degradation, labor exploitation, and the ethical implications of fast fashion has catalyzed a significant shift in consumption patterns. McKinsey's 2025 sustainability surveys indicate that Generation Z consumers are willing to pay premium prices for products positioned as sustainable, reflecting what scholars term the “sustainability paradox”—consumers express ethical concerns yet continue to purchase from fast-fashion brands (Niinimäki et al., 2020). This tension between ethical aspiration and consumption behavior creates fertile ground for discursive contestation, in which social media platforms emerge as key arenas for negotiating what constitutes “responsible” consumption.

Social media, and TikTok specifically, has become both an accelerator and an aggregator of sustainability discourse. Hashtags such as #ZeroWaste, #EthicalFashion, and #ConsciousConsumer have accumulated millions of posts, creating networked publics where consumers share practices, critique brands, and construct identities around ethical consumption (Zulli and Zulli, 2020). Within this ecosystem, two distinct but interconnected genres have gained prominence: the “conscious haul” or “thrift haul,” which displays secondhand or ethically sourced goods as forms of resistance against new consumption; and the “anti-haul,” which critiques products or trends deemed unethical or excessive—a genre popularized by creators like Kimberly Clark and subsequently adapted across platforms (Wood, 2020).

Both genres, while ostensibly oriented toward “critical consciousness,” deploy distinct discursive strategies and construct identities in fundamentally different ways. The conscious haul celebrates finding value within existing systems of consumption—transforming thrift shopping into treasure hunting, where economic savings and ethical positioning converge (Keats, 2012). The anti-haul, by contrast, often adopts more confrontational postures, naming and shaming brands, exposing labor practices, and calling for systemic change (Wood, 2020). In the Indonesian context, these discourses take on additional dimensions, as creators frequently reference local markets such as Pasar Senen and Pasar Jodoh, frame thrifting as an economic necessity for “anak rantau” (students living away from home) and connect sustainability discourse with nationalist economic sentiment through concepts like “kedaulatan sandang” (fashion sovereignty). Understanding these discursive differences is not merely an academic exercise; it has profound implications for how brands navigate the increasingly treacherous waters of sustainability marketing, where well-intentioned communications can rapidly be reinterpreted as greenwashing or purpose-washing.

Research on haul videos has predominantly focused on identity construction among general consumers rather than critically conscious identities (Keats, 2012; Abid et al., 2026). Meanwhile, studies on greenwashing on social media have largely adopted an organizational perspective, examining corporate communication strategies rather than consumer discursive responses (Lyon and Montgomery, 2015; Torelli et al., 2020). What remains underexplored is a systematic comparison of the discursive strategies deployed across conscious haul and anti-haul genres, and the implications of these strategies for how audiences distinguish authentic advocacy from co-optation. Have demonstrated that narratives and symbols on social media shape public opinion through identity negotiation and meaning construction, yet their work does not specifically address critical discourses that resist dominant consumerist narratives.

This study addresses this gap by investigating how critical consumer identities are discursively and multimodally constructed on social media, and by identifying the boundary markers through which audiences distinguish authentic advocacy from greenwashing accusations. Drawing on Fairclough's three-dimensional model of Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) and multimodal analytical frameworks, we examine thirty TikTok videos across three genres to uncover the discursive strategies through which creators position themselves as “conscious consumers.” The significance of this research is threefold: theoretically, it enriches CDA and consumer culture theory by demonstrating how resistant consumption remains embedded within market logics; practically, it offers ethical guidelines for marketing communication; and methodologically, it integrates multimodal analysis into greenwashing studies while incorporating local contexts that extend beyond Western-centric sustainability discourse.

Theoretical framework

Fairclough's (2013) model of Critical Discourse Analysis provides a foundational framework for examining how language, both verbal and visual, constructs social realities and power relations. CDA proceeds from the premise that discourse is not merely a reflection of social reality but a constitutive force that shapes identities, relationships, and systems of knowledge. Fairclough's three-dimensional model—textual analysis (micro), discursive practice (meso), and sociocultural practice (macro)—offers a systematic approach to unpacking how meanings are produced, distributed, and consumed within specific social contexts.

In the context of social media sustainability discourse, textual analysis examines the lexical choices, metaphors, and modes of address through which creators construct moral positions. Discursive practice analysis investigates how texts are produced and consumed—intertextual references to other content, responses to brands or other creators, and the narrative structures through which stories of transformation unfold. Sociocultural practice analysis situates these discourses within broader ideological formations, interrogating whether content challenges capitalism itself or merely promotes “better consumption” within existing systems (Fairclough, 2013).

This tripartite framework is particularly apt for analyzing sustainability discourse on platforms like TikTok, where meaning emerges through the interplay of multiple semiotic modes. The brevity and multimodal richness of short-form video demand analytical approaches capable of capturing how visual, auditory, and textual elements converge to construct persuasive messages (Machin and Mayr, 2012).

Kress and van Leeuwen's (2006). grammar of visual design, extended by Machin and Mayr (2012), provides tools for analyzing how meaning is constructed through visual elements including facial expression, gesture, camera angle, and property use. In short-form video, the multimodal orchestration of these elements is particularly significant because viewers process visual and auditory information simultaneously and meaning often emerges through the interplay between modes rather than from any single element in isolation (Jewitt et al., 2016).

Recent applications of multimodal CDA to social media content have demonstrated the analytical power of this approach for examining how identities are performed and contested. Kenalemang-Palma and Eriksson's (2025) analysis of #beautyfilters on TikTok reveals how multimodal strategies—facial expression, editing techniques, and on-screen text—construct relationships between creators, viewers, and standards of beauty. Similarly, cross-platform analyses of greenwashing narratives have shown how visual form (talking-head versus montage), expressive tone (humor versus serious exposition), and cultural orientation (individual versus collective value appeals) shape how audiences interpret and engage with environmental claims (Salimi et al., 2025).

For sustainability discourse, multimodal analysis is essential because ethical claims are often performed rather than stated: a creator's facial expression of disgust when showing a fast fashion garment, the use of low-key lighting to suggest seriousness, the display of thrifted items as material evidence of ethical practice—all these constitute a multimodal rhetoric that may be more persuasive than verbal argument alone (Machin and Mayr, 2012).

Digital identity construction and the performance of consciousness

The construction of identity in digital environments has been theorized as an ongoing, performative process in which individuals use semiotic resources to position themselves within social categories (Hall, 1996; van Zoonen, 2013). In the context of conscious consumption, identity is constructed through three interconnected dimensions: moral positioning (who I am versus the consumptive other), material practices (thrift shopping versus fast fashion purchasing), and affective stances (feelings of pride, guilt, or anger) (Cherrier, 2009; Giesler and Veresiu, 2014).

Have demonstrated the role of digital storytelling in shaping collective sentiment, yet their analysis does not specifically address how these narratives construct identities that explicitly resist dominant consumerist norms. The present study extends this line of inquiry by examining how creators use discursive resources to position themselves as “critical” or “conscious”—identities that are inherently relational, defined in opposition to those perceived as complicit in unsustainable consumption.

Uses and Gratifications Theory (UGT) provides a complementary lens for understanding why audiences engage with sustainability content. Audiences approach fashion and sustainability content to satisfy cognitive needs (learning about ethical alternatives), affective needs (enjoying aesthetically pleasing content), identity needs (expressing individuality through hashtag communities), social needs (connecting with like-minded others), and escapist needs (using fashion content as diversion) (Ruggiero, 2000; Sundar and Limperos, 2013). This framework helps explain not only why critical consumer content resonates with audiences, but also why these audiences actively participate in constructing accusations of greenwashing—a form of digital activism through which they reinforce their own moral Identities (Salimi et al., 2025).

Greenwashing, purpose-washing, and the question of authenticity

Greenwashing, originally coined by environmentalist Jay Westervelt in 1986, refers to the practice of making misleading environmental claims—creating a gap between symbol and substance, rhetoric and reality (Lyon and Montgomery, 2015). Lyon and Montgomery (2015) define greenwashing as selective disclosure of favorable environmental information while concealing negative impacts, creating an overly positive corporate image. Purpose-washing extends this concept to social issues, describing the appropriation of social causes for branding purposes without substantive action (Vredenburg et al., 2020).

Recent research has demonstrated that greenwashing accusations are not merely responses to corporate claims, but discursive achievements constructed by consumers through multimodal analysis (Salimi et al., 2025). Salimi et al. (2025) found that social media users, particularly on platforms like X/Twitter, actively construct greenwashing accusations through emotional responses (fear, sadness, skepticism), information sharing, and demands for corrective action. These accusations function as identity work, through which consumers position themselves as discerning, morally committed citizens rather than duped consumers

Beverland's (2005). work on brand authenticity identifies consistency as central to perceptions of genuine commitment: authentic brands align their communications with internal practices and values. Vredenburg et al. (2020) extend this framework to purpose-washing, arguing that accusations arise when audiences perceive a disconnect between a brand's stated purpose and its actual practices. In the context of sustainability marketing, authenticity is not an inherent property of brands, but a perception constructed by audiences through analysis of multimodal communications.

The present study builds on these insights by examining how audiences construct distinctions between authentic advocacy and purpose-washing. Drawing on analysis of comment sections, we identify four boundary markers through which viewers evaluate brand and creator communications: material evidence (whether brands or creators provide concrete proof or vague language), consistency (whether advocacy aligns with core practices), self-critique (whether limitations are acknowledged or critique is avoided), and stakeholder orientation (whether focus is on actual impacts or image and sales). These markers operate not as objective criteria but as discursive resources through which audiences perform their own critical identities.

Methodology

This study employs a purposive sampling strategy, which is the most appropriate and widely accepted approach for qualitative discourse-analytic research, particularly studies employing Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) and multimodal analysis. Unlike probability sampling, which aims for statistical representativeness, purposive sampling is designed to select information-rich cases that are most relevant to the research questions and theoretical framework (Patton, 2015; Palinkas et al., 2015).

The rationale for employing purposive sampling in this study rests on several methodological considerations. First, Fairclough's (2013) three-dimensional model of CDA does not require statistical representativeness but rather demands that selected texts are “particularly salient” or “consequential” for understanding the discursive practices under investigation. As Fairclough (2013) argues, “the selection of texts for analysis in CDA is not a matter of random or representative sampling, but of selecting texts which are particularly revealing of the discursive practices and social processes being studied.” Second, purposive sampling prioritizes cases with high informational power—those that contain the most relevant and rich data for addressing the research questions (Malterud et al., 2016). Third, our stratified purposive approach (Patton, 2015) ensures balanced representation across three distinct but interconnected genres, enabling systematic comparative analysis of discursive strategies across genres.

The research team conducted systematic searches on TikTok using predetermined keywords and hashtags across the three genre categories. A total of 187 videos were initially identified through these searches using the following search terms: anti-haul (“anti haul”, “anti haul 2025”, “why I'm not buying”, “#antihaul”), conscious haul (“thrift haul”, “conscious haul”, “second hand haul”, “#thrifthaul”), and ethical fashion advocacy (“fast fashion exposed”, “greenwashing example”, “#ethicalfashion”, “#fastfashionexposed”).

Following the application of inclusion criteria, which encompassed genre categorization (anti-haul, conscious haul, or ethical fashion advocacy), hashtag presence, duration (≤90 s), view count (minimum 50,000 as an indicator of public resonance), language (English or Indonesian), and publication period (January 2025–April 2026), 157 videos were excluded. From the remaining corpus, 30 videos were purposively selected—10 from each genre—based on thematic richness, content relevance, and audience engagement metrics.

This sample size of 30 videos was deemed sufficient for achieving thematic saturation, consistent with established practices in multimodal CDA research on social media platforms (Kenalemang-Palma and Eriksson, 2025; Salimi et al., 2025; Zulli and Zulli, 2020; Guest et al., 2006). Saturation was achieved after approximately 25 videos, as additional videos no longer produced new insights about identity typologies or discursive strategies; the remaining 5 videos confirmed existing patterns rather than revealing new ones. The inclusion of 20 English-language and 10 Indonesian-language videos reflects the study's commitment to capturing both international discourse and local Indonesian contexts.

For each of the 30 videos, comment sections were systematically reviewed. The top 20 most-liked comments were analyzed alongside all comments directly addressing sustainability or ethical issues (n = 247 total comments reviewed). This purposive approach ensured both the inclusion of highly visible commentary and the capture of analytically significant but less prominent discussions. From this corpus, 82 comments were retained for detailed analysis based on their relevance to the four boundary markers identified through iterative coding: material evidence, consistency, self-critique, and stakeholder orientation.

The identification of boundary markers followed Braun and Clarke's (2006) six-step thematic analysis procedure. Two researchers independently coded the comment data to ensure analytical rigor, achieving inter-coder reliability. Disagreements were resolved through consensus discussion. The boundary markers thus represent inductively derived analytical categories that emerged from systematic engagement with audience evaluations of brand and creator communications.

Analysis proceeded through a structured, multi-phase process. First, each video was viewed a minimum of three times, with each viewing focusing on different aspects of the multimodal text. A comprehensive coding table was completed for each video, documenting lexical choices, metaphors, modes of address, visual strategies (facial expression, gesture, properties), audio strategies (music, intonation), textual elements (hashtags, on-screen text), intertextual references, narrative structure, ideological positioning, and power relations. These dimensions operationalized Fairclough's three-dimensional model at the analytical level. Two researchers independently conducted multimodal coding of all 30 videos using the analytical framework. Coding was performed at three interconnected levels: textual (micro), discursive practice (meso), and sociocultural practice (macro). Researchers possessed expertise in CDA and multimodal analysis, ensuring consistent application of the framework.

Second, videos were categorized according to emerging identity typologies. This involved identifying patterns in discursive strategies across videos and grouping them by shared characteristics. Initial patterns were identified after the first coding round and refined through two subsequent rounds of analysis. Patterns were identified at the textual level (recurring lexical choices, metaphors, multimodal configurations), at the discursive level (narrative structures, intertextual references, responsive strategies), and at the sociocultural level (ideological stances, power relations constructed). Videos exhibiting characteristics of multiple typologies were discussed between coders until consensus was reached; where consensus could not be achieved, videos were categorized based on dominant discursive patterns. The typologies identified function as ideal types—analytical constructs that capture dominant patterns without claiming that individual creators perfectly embody any single type.

Third, cross-genre analysis compared anti-haul, conscious haul, and advocacy content to identify similarities and differences in discursive strategies. This phase focused on how genres construct critical consumer identity through distinctive combinations of lexical, multimodal, and narrative resources.

Fourth, boundary markers distinguishing authentic advocacy from greenwashing accusations were identified through analysis of comment sections. Comments were selected purposively based on relevance to ethical or sustainability issues, rather than simply the top five most-liked comments, ensuring that analytically significant but less visible commentary was not excluded. This purposive selection, while not generalizable, provides rich insight into how audiences construct distinctions between authentic and inauthentic advocacy.

Methodological triangulation was achieved through integration of textual, visual, and auditory analysis. Researcher triangulation (two independent coders) and data triangulation (multiple video genres and language sources) strengthened the validity of our findings. Negative case analysis—identifying and discussing videos that did not fit emerging patterns—further enhanced analytical rigor.

This study analyzed publicly available TikTok content, a platform where videos are intended for public consumption. Following established guidelines for social media research, we treated public content as appropriate for analysis without requiring individual consent. However, we have taken several steps to protect user privacy. All user identifiers have been anonymized. Verbatim comments are included only when analytically significant and do not contain personally identifiable information. Raw data (video screenshots, transcripts, codebooks) are stored securely on institutional servers and will be made available upon reasonable request to the corresponding author. The study was conducted in accordance with Bunda Mulia University's research ethics guidelines. These practices align with recommendations for ethical qualitative research in digital and social media contexts (Kozinets, 2020).

Findings

Analysis of the thirty TikTok videos reveals four distinct identity typologies, each characterized by particular discursive strategies and multimodal configurations. These typologies are not hermetically sealed; individual creators may shift between positions across different videos or even within a single piece of content. However, each represents a recognizable pattern of identity construction that emerged consistently across the corpus.

The moral bargainer

The Moral Bargainer construct's identity through an emphasis on simultaneous economic and ethical value. This typology dominates conscious haul and thrift haul content, where creators celebrate finding high-quality branded goods at low prices, positioning thrift shopping as both financially prudent and environmentally responsible.

Lexically, Moral Bargainers deploy vocabulary that frames consumption as a form of treasure hunting or strategic mastery. Words such as “score,” “steal,” “rare find,” “jackpot,” and “gong” (a term used in Indonesian thrift content to denote the best find) transform thrift shopping from a necessity into an achievement. The emphasis is on economic efficiency—“murah” (cheap) and “branded” appear frequently—but also on the moral satisfaction of rejecting fast fashion. As one Indonesian creator explains, “Kalau kalian pintar carinya” (if you are smart in searching), suggesting that thrift shopping rewards skill and knowledge. Another creator frames thrift shopping as a “life hack buat anak rantau” (life hack for students living away from home), positioning it as practical wisdom for navigating urban life with limited resources.

The moral framing in Moral Bargainer discourse is often implicit rather than explicit. Rather than directly condemning fast fashion, creators contrast the quality and uniqueness of thrifted items with the perceived inferiority of new mass-produced goods. The opposition is between “branded” and “biasa” (ordinary), between “vintage” and “trendy,” between “unique” and “generic.” The implicit argument is that choosing secondhand is not only economically rational but also aesthetically superior—a form of distinction that positions the thrift shopper as discerning and cultured.

Visually, Moral Bargainers employ bright, warm lighting and display goods in aesthetically arranged settings. Close-up shots of branded labels serve as visual evidence of value. Transitions between items are smooth and upbeat, often accompanied by a “clean girl aesthetic” palette of soft tones. Facial expressions are joyful, proud, and celebratory—the emotional register of triumphant discovery. Gestures include holding items up to the camera, modeling clothing, and pointing to details, creating a sense of sharing secrets with the viewer. One Indonesian creator, while thrifting at a market, frames the camera with a handheld, dynamic POV style that creates a sense of realistic immersion—as if the viewer is physically present for the hunt. The visual aesthetic deliberately contrasts the perceived grime of traditional markets with the refined quality of the finds, creating a visual argument about hidden value.

The narrative structure follows a “discovery narrative”: a journey from initial search to triumphant find, often including moments of suspense or doubt before the final reveal. Indonesian thrift content frequently opens with an establishing shot of the market location, moves through the process of rifling through racks, pauses for moments of decision or hesitation, and culminates in the revelation of the “gong” or “jackpot” find. This structure mirrors the suspense of treasure hunting, maintaining audience engagement through uncertainty about what will be discovered.

Auditorily, Moral Bargainers uses upbeat, pleasant music that supports the celebratory tone. Indonesian content often employs popular TikTok sounds or upbeat instrumentals that signal fun and excitement. Voice-over intonation is enthusiastic and conversational, often using informal language that builds intimacy with the viewer. The overall auditory experience is one of sharing an enjoyable experience rather than delivering a serious lecture.

The Ideology underpinning Moral Bargaining is what might be termed “smart consumerism”—a form of consumption that remains within capitalist frameworks but insists on extracting maximum value while minimizing cost. This does not challenge capitalism itself but rather celebrates individual strategic consumption within market logics. Power relations position the creator as an expert who empowers audiences to consume more intelligently, creating a relationship of educational exchange rather than structural critique.

The system critic

The System Critic constructs identity through structural critique of fast fashion, overconsumption, and exploitative capitalism. This typology predominates in anti-haul and advocacy content, where creators expose labor practices, environmental destruction, and the manipulative marketing strategies of global fashion brands.

Lexically, System Critics deploy vocabulary of moral outrage and systemic analysis. Words such as “exploitation,” “waste,” “pollution,” “unfair wages,” “greenwashing,” and “scam” construct fast fashion as an abusive system. The moral opposition is stark: “responsible” versus “irresponsible,” “transparent” versus “hidden,” “sustainable” versus “wasteful.” As one creator explains, fast fashion is “limbah polutan terbesar ke-2 di dunia” (the second-largest pollutant in the world), while another emphasizes that products come with hidden costs of “sampah yang tidak akan terurai selama 200 juta tahun” (waste that will not decompose for 200 million years). These lexical choices do not merely inform—they perform a moral judgment that positions the speaker as ethically superior and the audience as potentially complicit unless they change their behavior.

Metaphors of war, disease, and poison are frequent. Fast fashion is described as “racun” (poison), “cortisol tinggi” (high cortisol), or “membunuh” (killing). These metaphors dramatize the threat, constructing consumption not as a pleasure but as participation in harm. One creator frames the issue through a “high cortisol” versus “low cortisol” opposition, associating fast fashion with stress and environmental degradation while thrifting is associated with calm and restoration. This metaphorical framing goes beyond description to create an affective orientation—the viewer is not just informed but made to feel the danger.

Visually, System Critics employ stark contrasts. Anti-haul content often alternates between close-ups of products (to be criticized) and images of environmental damage or labor exploitation. Displays of fast fashion products may be accompanied by facial expressions of disgust or anger. Advocacy content frequently uses inserts—news footage, documentary clips, images of pollution—as evidence. One Indonesian creator incorporates images of polluted rivers and textile waste alongside branded logos, constructing a visual argument about hidden costs. Another combines footage of factory workers with images of CEO wealth, visually establishing exploitation as the relationship between producers and beneficiaries. The visual aesthetic tends toward the serious and urgent rather than the playful, with darker palettes, more rapid editing, and less aesthetic polish.

Audio strategies include serious or urgent intonation, sometimes without music to emphasize gravity. When music is used, it tends toward the cinematic or even ominous. The System Critic's tone is often confrontational, addressing brands directly or calling out specific practices. As one creator states, “Jangan bohongi publik tentang fast fashion” (Don't lie to the public about fast fashion), a direct accusation that positions the creator as a truth-teller against corporate deception. Another creator, addressing an influencer audience, speaks with raised intonation and rapid articulation, performing righteous anger as a marker of authentic moral commitment.

Intertextuality is a hallmark of System Critic discourse. Creators reference investigative journalism, scientific reports, and activist campaigns. One video cites “Liputan6” coverage of the Citarum River's pollution; another references “Vice” reporting on textile waste. This intertextual anchoring provides evidentiary weight, positioning the creator's critique within established knowledge networks. The System Critic often targets specific brands—H&M, Zara, Shein—or broader industry practices, constructing a responsive discourse that engages with corporate communications and industry trends.

Narratively, System Critic content often follows a structure of revelation: beginning with a hook or provocative claim, moving through evidence and analysis, and concluding with a call to action. The story is one of awakening—the creator as an enlightened revealer who helps audiences see through marketing to the hidden realities beneath. This narrative structure positions the viewer as someone who has been deceived and is now being liberated through knowledge.

Ideologically, System Critics challenge capitalism itself, or at least its current form. Content critiques not just individual brands but the system that drives them: relentless growth, planned obsolescence, and the externalization of environmental and social costs. One creator frame this explicitly, calling for “kedaulatan sandang” (fashion sovereignty) and criticizing what they term “kapitalisme sirkular” (circular capitalism). Power relations are stark: corporations and irresponsible influencers are positioned as perpetrators, while workers, the environment, and local economies are cast as victims. The call is for consumers to take power by refusing participation.

The reluctant consumer

The Reluctant Consumer construct's identity through expressions of guilt, self-critique, and inconsistency. This typology appears across genres but is particularly visible in anti-haul content with confessional elements—creators who advocate against overconsumption while admitting their own participation in it.

Lexically, Reluctant Consumers deploy vocabulary of hesitation, confession, and self-awareness. Phrases such as “I know I shouldn't, but..” “I'm guilty of this too,” and “I'm trying” signal an honest acknowledgment of inconsistency. The tone is often confessional rather than didactic, positioning the creator not as a righteous critic but as a flawed individual also struggling with consumption pressures. As one creator reflected, “gue akan jujur aja .. menurut gue ini gak worth it” (I'll be honest .. in my opinion this isn't worth it), while still acknowledging previous purchases. The Reluctant Consumer frequently uses self-deprecating humor as a strategy to preempt criticism—if they confess their failures first, audiences have less power to expose them.

Narratively, Reluctant Consumer content often follows a structure of struggle: starting with an admission of past behavior, moving through current efforts to change, and sometimes ending with a commitment to future improvement. The transformation narrative is present but incomplete—the journey toward consciousness is ongoing, marked by setbacks and tensions. This narrative positioning resonates with audiences who themselves struggle with consumption habits, offering solidarity rather than judgment. The Reluctant Consumer is not the hero who has arrived but the traveler still on the path.

Visually, Reluctant Consumers may appear more casual and unpolished than other typologies. The aesthetic is often “lived-in”—with visible signs of ordinary life rather than curated perfection. This visual strategy reinforces the authenticity of the confession. The lack of polish suggests that the creator is not performing for the algorithm but sharing genuine struggle. Facial expressions may be frustrated, sad, or determined emotions reflecting the struggle itself. Gestures are often less performative, more natural, creating a sense of intimate conversation.

Auditorily, Reluctant Consumers often use less music or more subdued soundtracks. Voice-over intonation is conversational, sometimes hesitant, marked by pauses and self-correction. The overall auditory experience is one of authentic sharing rather than polished performance.

The ideology of Reluctant Consumer discourse is ambiguous. On one hand, it expresses critical awareness and aspiration toward conscious consumption. On the other, it often remains within the logic of individual consumer choice without challenging systemic structures. The Reluctant Consumer may express guilt about fast fashion while continuing to purchase, revealing the tensions of consumption in a society where ethical alternatives are not always available or affordable. Power relations are also ambiguous: the creator identifies structural pressures but may not name specific perpetrators, directing critique inward rather than outward.

The curator-advocate

The fourth typology identified in the analysis, the Curator-Advocate, does not appear in the original theoretical framework but emerged prominently from the data. This typology focuses on education, provides alternatives to problematic consumption, and builds communities around ethical fashion practices.

Lexically, Curator-Advocates deploy vocabulary of education, recommendation, and collective action. They present themselves as researchers, educators, or activists who have investigated issues and can offer evidence-based guidance. Words such as “transparency,” “education,” “alternatives,” and “petition” appear frequently. Unlike System Critics, they do not primarily focus on condemnation; unlike Moral Bargainers, they do not celebrate individual consumption victories. Instead, they position themselves as knowledgeable guides who can help audiences navigate a complex landscape.

One striking example is the video created by a group of students who identify themselves as “5 pelajar yang mau membuat perubahan” (5 students who want to make change). They propose a “mandatory clothing score on every garment” modeled on the Nutri-Score system for food, creating a simple, actionable solution to the problem of hidden information. The proposal is presented with confidence and clarity, positioning the creators as young innovators who understand the problem and have developed a practical response.

Visually, Curator-Advocates often employ clearer, more structured visual strategies. On-screen text, evidence inserts, and clear organizational structures guide viewer understanding. One creator creates a video that begins by posing a question, displays logos of fast fashion brands, and directs viewers to a longer YouTube video for education. The visual strategy is designed not primarily for entertainment but for information transfer.

Intertextuality is prominent in Curator-Advocate discourse, as creators frequently reference other media, research, and activist campaigns. The student group's reference to Nutri-Score, for instance, creates a bridge between fashion discourse and established food labeling systems, lending credibility to their proposal. Creators reference news articles, scientific studies, and government reports, constructing their authority through external validation.

The narrative structure of Curator-Advocate content often follows a problem-solution structure: identifying an issue, explaining its significance, and offering practical responses. The story is one of collective action rather than individual transformation—the creator is not saving themselves but helping others save themselves and the planet.

Ideologically, Curator-Advocates occupy an interesting position. They are not anti-capitalist in the same way as System Critics, but they are more structurally oriented than Moral Bargainers. They propose systemic solutions (like mandatory labeling, petitions, collective action) while remaining within frameworks of policy change and consumer education. Their critique is of industry practices rather than capitalism itself, but it is more substantial than merely promoting “better consumption.”

Discursive strategies across typologies

Each identity typology deploys distinctive but overlapping discursive strategies. These strategies operate at the textual, discursive, and sociocultural levels, and they shape how content positions both creators and audiences within sustainability discourse.

At the textual level, lexical choices, metaphors, and modes of address construct particular subject positions. The Moral Bargainer's “score” and “jackpot” construct thrift as exciting and strategic, while the System Critic's “exploitation” and “waste” frame fast fashion as destructive. The Reluctant Consumer's “I know I shouldn't” signals self-awareness and moral aspiration, while the Curator-Advocate's “transparency” and “education” position knowledge as the key to change.

Metaphors similarly vary across typologies. The Moral Bargainer's “hunting” and “buru” (hunting) positions thrift as adventure; the System Critic's “racun” (poison) and “membunuh” (killing) positions it as threat; the Reluctant Consumer may use no strong metaphors at all, avoiding dramatization in favor of honest self-reflection; the Curator-Advocate may use metaphors of opening and uncovering, such as “unfold” to suggest revealing hidden truths.

Modes of address also differ. Moral Bargainers use “you” and “guys” to create a sense of sharing secrets with friends, often using informal language and direct address. System Critics employ more confrontational address—“you” may be accusatory, while “we” is reserved for the in-group of conscious consumers. Reluctant Consumers use confessional address, often speaking to themselves as much as to audiences. Curator-Advocates use inclusive “we” and “kita” to build collective identity around shared values and goals.

Visually, each typology employs characteristic strategies. The Moral Bargainer's bright, warm, celebratory aesthetic constructs consumption as pleasure and success. The System Critic's darker, more serious visual strategies construct urgency and critique. The Reluctant Consumer's “lived-in” aesthetic constructs authenticity and relatability. The Curator-Advocate's structured visual approach constructs credibility and expertise.

Auditorily, the Moral Bargainer's upbeat, pleasant music supports the celebratory tone; the System Critic's serious or ominous music signals urgency; the Reluctant Consumer's often minimal soundscape reinforces authenticity; the Curator-Advocate's clear, measured voice-over conveys authority and trustworthiness.

These discursive strategies are not merely stylistic choices but ideological positions with implications for how sustainability discourse functions. The Moral Bargainer's “smart consumerism” positions thrift as a consumer choice within market logics, not a challenge to those logics. The System Critic's anti-capitalist discourse, by contrast, challenges the market itself and implies that genuine solutions require systemic change. The Reluctant Consumer's confessional discourse reveals the tensions of living within unsustainable systems while aspiring to better alternatives. The Curator-Advocate's educational orientation positions knowledge and collective action as the path forward.

Boundary markers: authenticity and greenwashing accusations

Analysis of comment sections reveals four boundary markers through which audiences construct distinctions between authentic advocacy and greenwashing or purpose-washing. These markers emerge from audience evaluations of both brand and creator communications, demonstrating that accusations of inauthenticity are not reserved solely for corporations but extend to individual creators who are perceived as co-opting sustainability discourse for personal gain.

Material Evidence concerns whether a brand or creator provides concrete proof of claims or relies on vague language. Audiences frequently request or demand evidence: photos of sustainable practices, certifications, or detailed explanations. Conversely, vague language—“eco-friendly” without specification, “sustainable” without elaboration—triggers skepticism. In one case, commenters noted that a “conscious haul” creator's thrift finds might be counterfeit, challenging the evidential basis of the “branded” claim. The marker operates across contexts: brands and creators who provide visible, detailed evidence are more likely to be perceived as authentic; those relying on vague claims invite accusations of purpose-washing. One Indonesian commenter observed, “Gak menjamin bro yang full tag itu ori..” (can't guarantee that the full tag is original), directly questioning the material basis of the creator's claims.

Consistency concerns whether advocacy aligns with core practices. Audiences are attuned to contradictions: a brand that campaigns for thrift but produces vast quantities of fast fashion, or a creator who promotes conscious consumption while accumulating excessive goods. In one case, commenters noted the contradiction in promoting thrift while still featuring fast fashion brands. Another commenter observed the structural contradiction at the heart of sustainable fashion claims: “brand lokal pun seperti omosando .. msh sedikit itu ya Krn pasarnya msh br.. klo ternyata booming sprti shein.. pasti akan produksi ton2-an jg” (local brands are still small now because the market is still small .. if they become as big as Shein, they'll also produce tons). This comment identifies consistency not merely as individual practice but as a structural problem—even well-meaning brands may be unable to maintain sustainable practices at scale.

Consistency also functions as a marker of personal credibility. Commenters evaluate creators not just on what they say but on whether their lifestyle matches their message. One creator who promotes conscious consumption while posting “massive haul” content was criticized implicitly by commenters who noted the contradiction between advocacy and accumulation. Another creator's comment that she has “to be selective otherwise my tiny closet will literally break” was interpreted as genuine self-reflection and consistency between values and limitations.

Self-Critique concerns whether a brand or creator acknowledges limitations and demonstrates a learning orientation. Audiences respond positively to honest admissions of imperfection, viewing them as markers of authenticity. One creator's admission that she must be selective because of physical limitations was validated by commenters as “finally a conscious and meaningful Christmas haul.” Conversely, creators who ignore criticism or delete comments—“ghosting” critique—are perceived as defensive and inauthentic. As one commenter noted, a creator who actively responded to praise but ignored boycott criticism demonstrated passive avoidance that undermined perceived authenticity.

Self-critique can also be performed through openness to audience feedback. Creators who engage with critical comments, acknowledge mistakes, and demonstrate learning are perceived as more authentic than those who delete critical comments or block dissenters. The willingness to expose oneself to critique signals genuine commitment rather than image management.

Stakeholder Orientation concerns whether advocacy focuses on genuine impacts or on brand image and sales. Authentic advocacy emphasizes consequences for workers, communities, and the environment—what is being done and how it benefits affected stakeholders. Purpose-washing, by contrast, focuses on “buy our sustainable collection” calls to action that center brand benefit rather than stakeholder welfare. Commenters in one case observed how thrift vendors are increasingly “pada tau brand” (knowing about brands), shifting orientation from sustainability to profit extraction. Another noted how brand sustainability claims were merely “strategi pemasaran” (marketing strategies) rather than genuine commitments. The marker reveals audiences' ability to distinguish between rhetoric that centers brand image and rhetoric that centers substantive impact.

One commenter elaborated the stakeholder orientation marker through a detailed critique: “masalahnya yg jual tau BRAND jugaa” (the problem is that sellers also know about brands), pointing to the way thrift shops have become oriented toward profiting from brand value rather than toward sustainability goals. This comment reveals a sophisticated understanding of market dynamics—the very practices that make thrift appealing to consumers also undermine its sustainability promise.

These four markers function in an integrated manner: audiences evaluate brands and creators across all dimensions, and a deficit in one area may trigger accusations of greenwashing or purpose-washing. The discursive construction of greenwashing, therefore, is not simply a response to false claims but emerges through systematic analysis of communications across multiple dimensions. Audiences actively interpret and evaluate, positioning themselves as discerning critics rather than passive consumers.

Discussion

This study adopts the position that accusations of greenwashing are not merely responses to corporate claims, but discursive achievements constructed by consumers through multimodal analysis of communications (Salimi et al., 2025). Our analytical focus is on how audiences construct distinctions between authentic advocacy and inauthentic co-optation, rather than on determining whether brands or creators objectively engage in greenwashing. This distinction is methodologically important: our research design examines discursive strategies and audience interpretations, not corporate practices or supply chain audits.

This study makes several contributions to the literature on critical consumer identity, sustainability discourse, and marketing communication. First, it extends Critical Discourse Analysis into the study of sustainable consumption by demonstrating how identities are constructed through multimodal strategies on social media (Tarigan et al., 2026; Robin et al., 2020). The four typologies identified—Moral Bargainer, System Critic, Reluctant Consumer, and Curator-Advocate—represent distinct discursive positions within sustainability discourse, each with characteristic lexical, visual, auditory, and narrative features.

The identification of the Curator-Advocate typology, not anticipated in the original theoretical framework, is a significant empirical contribution. It demonstrates that sustainability discourse on social media is not simply a binary between celebratory consumption and condemning critique, but includes a third position oriented toward education, structural solutions, and collective action. This position may be particularly important for understanding how audiences navigate sustainability discourse, as it offers a way forward rather than merely identifying problems.

Second, the study demonstrates that “critical” or “conscious” consumer identity is not a single, unitary position but encompasses multiple, sometimes contradictory, stances. This finding complicates simplistic distinctions between “responsible” and “irresponsible” consumers, revealing the tensions and contradictions that characterize consumption in late capitalism. The Reluctant Consumer embodies these tensions—a figure who aspires to ethical consumption while continuing to participate in the very systems they critique. The presence of this typology in the data suggests that sustainability discourse is not merely a matter of identity construction but a genuine struggle with the practical constraints of consumption in societies where ethical alternatives are not always available or affordable.

Third, the study identifies the boundary markers through which audiences construct distinctions between authentic advocacy and greenwashing or purpose-washing. These markers—material evidence, consistency, self-critique, and stakeholder orientation—are not inherent properties of communications but discursive achievements constructed through audience interpretation. Accusations of greenwashing, therefore, are themselves discursive practices through which audiences position themselves as discerning critics and reinforce their own moral identities (Salimi et al., 2025). The finding that these markers apply to both brands and creators is significant, suggesting that audiences do not make a categorical distinction between corporate and individual sustainability discourse.

Fourth, the study extends the application of multimodal CDA to short-form video content, demonstrating the analytical value of examining visual, auditory, and textual elements in combination. The finding that identity typologies are characterized by distinctive multimodal configurations—not just verbal content—underscores the importance of this approach for analyzing social media discourse. The Moral Bargainer's visual celebration, the System Critic's serious montages, the Reluctant Consumer's unpolished aesthetic, and the Curator-Advocate's structured information presentation are not incidental features but constitutive elements of identity construction.

Fifth, the study contributes to cross-cultural understanding of sustainability discourse by including Indonesian-language content. The incorporation of local contexts—Pasar Senen, Pasar Jodoh, Sungai Citarum, concepts like “kedaulatan sandang”—demonstrates that critical consumer identity is not a Western import but a discourse that adapts to local conditions and concerns. The Indonesian context adds dimensions of economic nationalism and post-colonial critique that are less prominent in Western sustainability discourse, enriching our understanding of how sustainability is framed in different cultural settings.

This study examines the discursive construction of greenwashing accusations rather than making objective determinations of whether brands or creators engage in greenwashing practices. Our findings reveal how audiences interpret, evaluate, and categorize sustainability communications, but they do not speak to the factual accuracy of corporate sustainability claims. Future research might combine discursive analysis with supply chain audits or certification verification to examine the relationship between greenwashing perceptions and objective sustainability practices.

The inclusion of Indonesian-language content (n = 10, 33.3% of the corpus) enriches our understanding of sustainability discourse beyond Western-centric models. Indonesian content was transcribed and translated into English by a bilingual researcher with expertise in Indonesian fashion discourse; translation accuracy was verified through back-translation by a second independent translator.

Comparative analysis between English and Indonesian content revealed distinctive discursive features in the Indonesian corpus, including: (1) references to local markets (Pasar Senen, Pasar Jodoh) as sites of thrift consumption; (2) framing of thrifting as economic necessity for “anak rantau” (students living away from home); (3) deployment of nationalist economic discourse (“kedaulatan sandang” or fashion sovereignty); and (4) critiques of global fashion corporations that resonate with post-colonial economic concerns. These distinctive features demonstrate that critical consumer identity adapts to local conditions and concerns. However, given the sample composition (20 English, 10 Indonesian), our cross-cultural observations should be considered illustrative rather than generalizable; future research might explore these cultural dimensions with larger, more balanced corpora.

Implications

The findings have significant implications for brands and marketers seeking to engage with sustainability discourse without triggering accusations of greenwashing or purpose-washing. These implications are grounded not in normative prescriptions but in empirical observation of what audiences respond to.

Engaging with system critics

The data suggests that System Critics have substantial influence over sustainability discourse, and their critiques can significantly damage brand credibility. Brands would be well-advised to engage with System Critics not as adversaries to be managed but as consultants whose critique can improve practice. System Critics possess deep knowledge of sustainability issues, labor practices, and environmental impacts, as well as the discursive strategies that resonate with environmentally conscious audiences. Collaborating with such creators—rather than merely endorsing them—signals genuine commitment to addressing the structural issues they identify. However, engagement must be substantive: performative partnerships without real change will be quickly identified and condemned.

Transparency and material evidence

The material evidence marker demonstrates that audiences are increasingly sophisticated at distinguishing between substantiated claims and vague language. Providing detailed information about practices, certifications, and impacts—and making this information accessible and visible—builds credibility. Conversely, “eco-friendly” claims without specification trigger skepticism and invite accusations. Brands should therefore prioritize evidence-based communication, making their sustainability practices visible and verifiable.

Consistency across communication and practice

Consistency between advocacy and practice is essential. Brands that campaign for sustainability while maintaining fast fashion production models are vulnerable to attack. Consistency does not require perfection but does require honest acknowledgment of contradictions and progress toward improvement. As one commenter noted, the structural contradiction of fast fashion brands promoting sustainability is immediately transparent to sophisticated audiences. Brands should therefore be honest about where they are in their sustainability journey, acknowledging the gap between aspiration and reality while demonstrating genuine movement.

Embracing self-critique

Brands and creators who acknowledge limitations, respond to criticism constructively, and demonstrate a learning orientation are perceived as more authentic than those who avoid or suppress critique. Defensiveness signals dishonesty; humility signals integrity. Brands should therefore develop processes for receiving and responding to critique that demonstrate genuine openness to improvement rather than reputation management. The data suggests that audiences respond positively to demonstrated self-critique, viewing it as a sign of authenticity.

Centering stakeholder impact

Communication should center on genuine impacts for stakeholders—workers, communities, and the environment—rather than brand image or sales. Calls to action that prioritize “buy our sustainable collection” signal purpose-washing, while calls that emphasize substantive change signal authentic commitment. This does not preclude commercial activity but requires that commercial messaging is embedded within broader sustainability commitments. Brands should ask themselves: “Does this communication primarily serve our brand, or does it primarily serve stakeholders?”

Avoiding greenhushing

The opposite of greenwashing—greenhushing, or downplaying sustainability achievements for fear of accusations—also undermines trust (Font et al., 2017). Brands with genuine sustainability practices should communicate them clearly and confidently while acknowledging remaining challenges. Transparency, not silence, builds credibility.

The Curator-Advocate typology offers insights for brands seeking to engage with sustainability discourse. Curator-Advocates occupy a middle ground between celebration and condemnation—they are critical but constructive, oriented toward solutions rather than merely exposing problems. Brands might productively engage with such creators in ways that build credibility while avoiding co-optation accusations. Genuinely educational partnerships that provide useful information to audiences and that acknowledge complexity and limitation are more likely to be perceived as authentic than those that merely use sustainability as a marketing hook.

Conclusion

This study has examined how critical consumer identities are discursively constructed on social media, identifying four typologies: (1) Moral Bargainer, (2) System Critic, (3) Reluctant Consumer, and (4) Curator-Advocate. It suggests four boundary markers- material evidence, consistency, self-critique, and stakeholder orientation- that distinguish authentic advocacy from greenwashing or purpose-washing in audience interpretation.

The research demonstrates that “critical” consumer identity is not a unified position but a contested, multivalent discourse within which creators position themselves through distinctive combinations of lexical, visual, auditory, and narrative strategies. These discursive positions have implications for how sustainability communication is produced and perceived, and for how brands may engage with sustainability discourse without triggering accusations of co-optation. The inclusion of Indonesian-language content has enriched this understanding by revealing how local contexts, economic nationalism, and post-colonial critiques shape sustainability discourse in ways that differ from Western-centric models.

At a broader level, the study reveals the paradoxical nature of resistant consumption: even as creators critique fast fashion, overconsumption, and exploitative capitalism, their content remains embedded within market logics. The Moral Bargainer celebrates finding value within existing systems; the System Critic challenges those systems but often calls for consumption changes that remain individual responses to systemic problems; the Reluctant Consumer expresses guilt while continuing to participate in consumption; the Curator-Advocate proposes solutions that remain within policy and consumer education frameworks. This paradox is not a failure of critical discourse but a reflection of consumption's inescapability—we are all, to varying degrees, Reluctant Consumers, aspiring to better while navigating systems that constrain our choices.

For marketing communication, the findings suggest that authenticity is not a fixed property, but a discursive achievement constructed through ongoing dialogue between brands, creators, and audiences. Brands that engage substantively with sustainability—providing evidence, maintaining consistency, welcoming critique, and centering stakeholder impact—can build credibility and trust. Those that treat sustainability as image management will find their claims increasingly scrutinized and increasingly likely to trigger accusations.

In an era of heightened environmental awareness and widespread skepticism of corporate claims, the capacity to communicate authenticity is not merely a marketing advantage but a condition of continued social license to operate. This study offers a framework for understanding and navigating that challenge, grounded in the discursive practices through which authenticity—and its absence—are constructed.

Generative AI statement

The author(s) declared that generative AI was not used in the creation of this manuscript.

Any alternative text (alt text) provided alongside figures in this article has been generated by Frontiers with the support of artificial intelligence and reasonable efforts have been made to ensure accuracy, including review by the authors wherever possible. If you identify any issues, please contact us.

Publisher's note

All claims expressed in this article are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily represent those of their affiliated organizations, or those of the publisher, the editors and the reviewers. Any product that may be evaluated in this article, or claim that may be made by its manufacturer, is not guaranteed or endorsed by the publisher.

Footnotes

Edited by: Sun Chengzhi, Dalian University of Technology (DUT), China

Reviewed by: Solomiia Fedushko, Lviv Polytechnic National University, Ukraine

Claudiu Coman, Transilvania University of Brașov, Romania