In Rio de Janeiro, Carnival is an explosion of music, costumes and freedom. But when the speakers go out and the tide recedes, something is left on the sand that has nothing poetic about it: an invisible dust of microplastics. Among the main suspects is him, glitter, the very symbol of the carnival aesthetic.
Traditional glitter is mostly composed of tiny shards of metallic plastic. Light, reflective, perfect for turning anyone into a glowing creature for a night. The problem is that those particles don’t disappear: they peel off the skin, slip into the drains, scatter in the wind and waves, and end up in coastal sediments.
During large mass festivals, such as Carnival, the pressure on beaches increases dramatically. Thousands of people concentrated for days means tons of waste and a hard-to-quantify amount of plastic micro-fragments accumulating in the sand.
From beach to plate
Microplastics are not just an urban cleanup issue. Once they enter marine ecosystems, they can be ingested by small organisms, moving up the food chain. Fish, crustaceans, seabirds: no one is really excluded. And when they get to us, it comes full circle.
Scientific research is still working to clarify all the effects on human health, but the overall picture is enough to be worrying: microplastics have now been detected everywhere, from the deep oceans to the air we breathe.
In several parts of the world, authorities have begun to restrict or ban plastic glitter, pushing toward biodegradable materials. In Brazil, however, the regulatory path is proceeding slowly. Meanwhile, “eco” alternatives are emerging, often based on cellulose or natural derivatives, which promise to degrade without leaving a persistent trace. They work, but cost more, and cannot always compete with conventional products.
Party yes, but not on environmental balance
The point is not to demonize Carnival, which remains a unique cultural and social heritage. The question is how to keep the magic intact while reducing the ecological impact? Consumer education, more responsible industrial choices, and consistent public policies can move the needle.
Because the paradox is obvious: a festival that celebrates life and creativity should not leave a legacy that lasts decades. Glitter enchants for a few hours, plastic much, much longer. And the sand, silent, keeps reminding us.
