I HAVE a pair of high heels known as "the shoes of shame", a title they bear not just because of their cost, but because the only time I ever wore them I fell off them ignominiously. They remain boxed as the mere sight of them is a conscience-pricking reminder of poor judgement and bad behaviour. Until now I had thought they were my only source of shopping guilt, but it seems I must start reviewing my whole wardrobe with a much more critical eye.

Last week, the anti-poverty charity War On Want issued a report that detailed how Bangladeshi factory workers toil for just 5p an hour to produce the cut-price clothing that is whipping British shoppers into a frenzy. The campaign is intended to highlight how our greed exploits foreign workers, and War On Want chief executive Louise Richards is calling for action. "The Labour government must bring in effective regulation to end such shameful practices," she says.

The shameful practices in question are not the shoppers' addictions to raking through rails of bargains in search of cheap-as-chips signature pieces. Instead the target is the retailers who, it is alleged, fail to ensure the people who make their gear receive a decent wage.

The report, entitled Fashion Victims, berates leading low-cost chains for paying lip service to their stated commitment to force employers to pay staff properly. In Bangladesh the living wage is calculated as £22 a month, but War On Want says it knows of local rag-trade workers who take home only a third of that. This summer's "textile riots" in and around Dhaka were the result of popular unrest about low pay in the industry, and the charity has decided to bring the battle right back home to a high street near you.

Like many of us, I have never spent much time considering who makes what I wear, far less wondering what they are paid. But I have marvelled at superstores' ability to sell cutting-edge clobber for such ridiculously low prices: skinny jeans that can cost well in excess of £100 in some places are on offer in Tesco for just £3. I suppose someone's got to be losing out, and it's unlikely to be the retailers.

I have watched, with some amusement, the rise of bargain-basement culture through the pages of glossy magazines. Not so long ago the picture captions were crammed with so many zeros it brought tears to the eyes to look at the prices. Now, there are funky little frocks for under £40 among the mix, and fashion gurus solemnly advise against top-to-toe designer dressing in favour of a more eclectic mix.

It appeared the trend was democratising couture. No sooner have the exclusive ateliers unleashed their latest looks than the cheap-and-cheerful merchants are churning out their takes. It's up to you whether you would rather spend £999 or £9.99 to achieve the latest look.

ALTHOUGH War On Want has set its sights on Asda, Tesco and Primark, the whole fashion industry is in the frame as even expensive lines may be made in the same factories.

"People contact us all the time asking where they should go shopping," says Sam Maher of the campaign group Labour Behind the Label. "I have to say nowhere really there is not one single company which is making a point of producing ethically sound clothing."

Yikes. I am still struggling to come to terms with the whole carbon footprint malarkey: I have started recycling and feel a pang of guilt whenever I book a flight, but I hadn't realised there were such things as garment miles and that I would have to feel bad about them too.

Ethically responsible consumerism is the prevailing zeitgeist, and the fashion industry is responding. In the 1990s, Gap earned opprobrium for its links with third-world sweatshops: these days it has joined forces with the right-on celebrity-backed Red label, where 50% of profits from items go towards Aids projects in Africa. And Marks & Spencer has a Fairtrade cotton clothing range that informs shoppers where products are sourced.

Consumer conscience clearly has muscle, as fashion chain Burberry may be about to discover. The company, which specialises in chavtastic checks, is considering shutting its Welsh factory and transferring production to China. The prospect of negative economic impact on Treorchy, where Burberry employs 300 people, has alarmed such luminaries as Prince Charles and actor Ioan Gruffudd, who have lobbied ministers and written to the chief executive pleading for a rethink.

The implicit threat is that Burberry products, favoured by neds as well as the Beckhams, Kate Moss and Madonna, will be boycotted. Given that the label sees its future sales growth in Asia, that probably isn't too much of a disincentive.

Madonna isn't such a squeaky-clean role model anyway. A few years ago she was lambasted by designer Stella McCartney, who accused her of wearing a foetus by sporting a Persian lamb coat.

She can't have learned much from that, as last Wednesday the pop icon was snapped in a £35,000 chinchilla jacket that made her look like a poodle. As a result, she has been branded a "killer" by animal rights activists, and it is reported that she fears for the safety of her family. It was, however, a gamble that paid off in publicity terms - thanks to a few slaughtered rodents, Madonna made the front pages again.

It is unlikely that high street shoppers will ever grapple with the morals of wearing a £35,000 coat, but according to War On Want, it it time that they thought twice about that £12.99 bracelet-sleeved jacket. So next time you are in Primark, the charity says, cross-question the shop assistants about the provenance of your purchase. It is an effective way of getting the ethical message across.