SUNLU Recycled PLA Filament: Sustainability Meets Practical Challenges

SUNLU took a shot with their recycled PLA filament—a move meant to warm the hearts of eco-minded makers and anyone tired of swimming in plastic waste. If you’re the sort who pays attention to where your stuff comes from, that story is tempting. But let’s get straight to the nuts and bolts: this filament asks for some patience and the right expectations.

So what’s in the box? You get four 1KG spools of 1.75mm PLA, all wound onto recycled cardboard. The filament itself holds a precise diameter most of the time, and those reels are meant to be a nod to sustainability. The manufacturers tout solid print quality and tight tolerance, which can be true—to a point. Here’s where it gets interesting (and maybe a bit frustrating).

If you like your colors deep and uniform, the “black” here might come off as more “swamp at midnight” than obsidian. There’s sometimes a greenish tint or a semi-gloss sheen, depending on the light. The recycled nature shines through, sometimes a bit too literally.

Print quality can impress, but only if you dance right on its tightrope: nozzle temps need to be dialed in just-so (think between 210°C and 240°C), and your printer has to play nice with the “mood swings” of recycled stock. Inconsistent color and minor surface oddities are just part of the deal here. If you’re chasing pristine, showroom-finish prototypes, this filament will likely annoy you.

Some practical headaches deserve fair warning. That eco-friendly cardboard spool can betray you, especially if you’re running a Bambu AMS or any system fussy about reel dimensions. The cardboard warps with time or humidity, and when it does, your print job might stall every half hour with yet another feeding jam. A classic case where good intentions bump into real-life workflow. If you depend on reliable, hands-off feeds, you need to re-spool this filament—otherwise, the repeated interruptions will make you want to chuck the whole roll into Turnagain Arm.

Then, there’s moisture. PLA by itself is already the bread that can go moldy fastest on your print benches in Alaska. This recycled variant doesn’t get a magical pass, and if you leave it out in ambient air, expect stringing, weak layers, and failed adhesion. I’ve learned the hard way: dry-boxes or pre-drying are not nice-to-have; they’re mandatory.

Clogging pops up more often with this stuff than with pricier, premium filaments. You’ll likely find yourself tweaking retraction, temps, and even slowing down print speed to keep things moving. It’s not a disaster, but if you treat this filament like a set-it-and-forget-it workhorse, you’re headed for aggravation. Make those first couple prints small scale, like a fridge magnet or a calibration cube—don’t gamble a big multi-hour functional print out of the gates.

If you’re in it for the green angle and happy to noodle with profiles and maybe sacrifice some perfect looks for a price break and a clearer conscience, it can be a decent fit. But anyone expecting smooth, glossy results and zero tinkering for complex jobs is setting themselves up for a disappointment. There are spots where sustainability clashes with practical home printing: namely, the reel and the stubbornness around temp and humidity.

If you’re already used to managing fussier filaments—PETG in a damp garage, or keeping ASA fresh in a vacuum bag—then juggling the needs of this stuff won’t seem outrageous. You get what you pay for: a greener option, a few quality trade-offs, a need for hands-on vigilance.

Bottom line: SUNLU’s recycled PLA asks you to babysit. If you’re fine with drying, re-spooling, and spending a little extra time tuning, you’ll probably make it work. But if you need a flawless, jam-free, low-maintenance spool for high-stakes prints or long jobs unattended in a humidity-prone shed… you’re better off looking at something else.

Go for this filament if environmental impact matters more to you than drop-dead perfection and convenience. If that sounds like an even trade, give it a fair shot—just don’t ignore those quirks. You’ll either appreciate the small victory for sustainability, or you’ll be cussing at another paper spool while your benchy goes spaghetti.