Beyond Fair Trade: Durability Part II

Beyond Fair Trade: These posts explore ways consumers can wield their power to encourage corporate social responsibility, decrease social and environmental impact and make the world a better place.

Durability: Part II

This week I successfully used a power drill to install a lock, replaced the rubber flapper (called a valve seal) in my toilet tank, and partially disassembled a drain in order to remove the soap-scum-and-hair rat that had birthed within it.  The glow of accomplishment in extending the useful lives and improving the use of these items (not to mention the water saved by not having the toilet pump constantly running) reminded me that it's time to discuss the eco-sense of durability in other areas of life beyond fashion.

Why is durability such a big deal?  Because the amount of raw materials and energy that go into making, packaging and shipping a product, and the amount (and type) of waste materials produced, are typically far beyond what anyone would imagine.  Take coffee, for example:  I have been told that takes the cherries of an entire coffee tree to produce a single pound of beans (in one harvest cycle).  It takes 53 gallons of water to produce the elements of a latte to-go (including the cup, sleeve, sugar and milk).  And for a glimpse at the life cycle of your home coffee-maker, check out this visual:

I'm sure we all understand the basic equation here: the fewer products you buy and throw away, the better for the environment.  Fewer natural resources are used up; less greenhouse gas is produced; less pollution goes into the environment.

So how do we go about implementing this in our daily lives?

First, we invest in durable products.  Many of us, when we first moved out of our parents' home or our dorm room into a place of our own, went to IKEA and outfitted our new pads with the cheapest of furniture items. (Overheard in a youtube video called "[Stuff] Nobody Says": "I've never seen this IKEA furniture in anyone else's apartment!")  A few years later, we have better jobs, we're sick of how the TV stand wobbles when we change the channel, and our furniture has migrated from the "for sale" section to the "free" section on Craigslist, and then simply to the sidewalk.

Kitchen and other household appliances (I'm looking at you, curling irons and hair dryers) are an even worse culprit.  When they break, does anybody know how to fix them?  Who understands the relationship between the electronic and purely electrical parts, whose time taken to diagnose and repair the machine wouldn't cost more than simply upgrading to the latest model? 

There must be a better way. 

When I was in junior high and high school, my best friend's father worked at the local GM plant.  He was--and this blew my mind when I learned it--the general fix-it man.  When a machine broke, any machine, he was able to go and look at it, these incredibly complex, unique, huge machines, and figure out how to make it work again.  Over the course of the years I spent visiting that house, I saw him plow and plant a new field, build (not repair) a large stone fireplace, create a fish pond, re-route the driveway, and then in the evening he would get out his trusty 12-string and lead his family in funny folk songs and classic hymns.  

Tell me (in the comment section!): Do you know anyone like this? Anyone under the age of 50?  Anyone who could contribute that mightily to the durability of the goods around them?  I do not.  I understand that the advance of technology makes this difficult, and the cheapness of goods makes it an unattractive option to the less hard-core green-savers among us (referring to both the planet and personal profits), but I can't help thinking that education in small-appliance repairs, on a large scale, would save simply massive amounts of plastic and metal from sitting for eternity in our landfills, off-gassing and seeping toxins into our water table.

Tell me: if a free workshop on how to repair a broken [fill in the blank] were offered in your area, would you take it? What would you want to fill in the blank with?

Beyond Fair Trade: Durability Part I

Beyond Fair Trade: These posts explore ways consumers can wield their power to encourage corporate social responsibility, decrease social and environmental impact and make the world a better place.

Durability: Part I

Use it up,
Wear it out,
Make it do, or
Do without.

This little rhyme was the mantra of Depression-era getting by, and it was one of the things The Great Generation did that was so great, for more reasons than they even knew.  Numerous factors in the design, production, use and disposal of consumer products have interacted to create a system with equally numerous types of fallout, and this simple ditty and some related practices could do a lot, over time, to mitigate that fallout and slow down or even hopefully stop the vicious cycles in this system.

As we examine factors that we can see at work in the world of consumer products, one that we should look for is durability.  Today we will examine Durability's Public Enemy Number One: obsolescence. Case-in-point focus: the fashion industry.

[Disclaimer: I do not hate fashion or the fashion industry... as I'm sure you'll gather as you get to the "suggestions" section. However, fashion-as-currently-practiced provides some outstanding examples of what to avoid doing/perpetuating, and we do the industry no favors by failing to examine them.]

Fashion trends are a major and obvious example of obsolescence as a feature—you buy something, wear it for a season, the weather changes, and by the time it changes back, that item simply cannot be worn in public any more.  When the focus is being on-trend and of-the-moment instead of timelessly beautiful expressions of the real self, it leads consumers to throw away otherwise perfectly good items.  Knowing that they’re going to do so, shoppers don’t want to pay much for a trendy item, and value cheap over quality. Stores cater to this by decreasing prices, so customers will buy 5 throwaway items instead of one timeless item, and the cost-crunch goes backward down the production chain until it gets absorbed by the link least able to protect itself against price decreases: the impoverished workers in impoverished areas of the world.

Meanwhile, on the production side, doing things quickly and cheaply takes precedence over doing them right.  For example, a cheaper dye process might be used, including dyes that are terrible for the health of the workers, and/or a lack of proper safety precautions or disposal processes—leading to diseases in the workers and surrounding community, where there may not be proper healthcare or money to pay for it.  Or a process might be used that requires massive amounts of water (also common in dying), resulting in the depletion of natural resources and destruction of ecosystems and animal habitats.

And of course, throwaway products don’t all get sold in Goodwills and consignment stores—especially those that never make it into the hands of the consumer (since a company can’t afford to further “devalue” its product by allowing it to be sold brand-new for a few bucks in a local thrift shop, or customers would never agree to pay even the nominal “full price”).  Instead, post- and pre-consumer clothes wind up in landfills, off-gassing and breaking down badly, if at all.

Thankfully, there are several ways to combat this process.

First, of course, is to go for quality over quantity.  This part is fun, especially for a lot of us women.  Think about who you are, what you really want to express about yourself to the world through your clothing choices, and give yourself permission to save up and spend more on a quality product.  You can really plan what you need in your wardrobe to accomplish what you want to in your life.  Better office wear? More sundresses that double for going out in the evening? Then you can look for those items in shops that offer quality--which often have the bonus of being locally-owned.  Here in NYC, sometimes they even sell locally-produced items, which tend to be particularly high quality. (It costs a lot more to produce here, and designers will be sure to get the quality they are paying for!)

What do I mean by quality?

• The fabric: Will it pill or mar easily? Does it stretch and/or drape well? Is the weave dense? If you look closely, does it look cheap? (And if so could that eventually be a problem in your career?)
• The stitching and seams: Is it neat and even, done in a strong thread? Is there fabric allowance for alterations?
• The style: Is it timeless or dated? Will it go with multiple items and is it versatile enough for different types of events? Is it you? 
• The fit: more on this later.
• The bonus round: points for organic and/or fairtrade raw materials (cotton is the biggie) and for supporting local artisans, non-profits, international projects and so on.  (See EcoFashionWorld.com for numerous examples.)  You are likely to have to shop online in order to find much variety in this category.

Side note as you give yourself permission to spend more on a quality, durable product: don’t be fooled by the price tag alone! A company that spends a lot on celebrity endorsements and enormous stores where they display one handbag for every 6 square feet of expensive real estate may be offering quality but they’re not offering you value for your money.  

Next, customize.  Alter.  Here is a secret: a person who is a "perfect" size anything is a rare find.  You do not simply wear "size X", because a “size” includes expectations of particular proportions—and depending on where the garment fits or flares, your “usual” size may be totally irrelevant. To wit: if your height, bust, and shoulders are a size 6 and your waist is a 4 but your ribcage is a size 8 and this blouse happens to be fitted just under the bust, you will need a size 8 this time.  There's no shame in that. There will come along the blouse that's more fitted in the waist and fuller elsewhere and then you will be able to go for the 4... not that these numbers are the same from designer to designer or even year to year.  Just consider your "size" a guideline for finding the best fit more quickly.

When you find that garment you love, a good tailor (or at some boutiques, even the sales woman/stylist) can help you decide where a bit of letting out, taking in or hemming can help that garment fit you like a glove. With pants, for example, purchase for the best fit around thighs and bum; then customize waist and hem as needed.  You'll learn to keep an eye out for strategically-placed seams, whether there is extra fabric in the seam that allows for letting out, fabrics like silk that do not take kindly to letting out or complex shaping, and so on.  (It's always easier to take in than let out of course, unless it's a self-esteem issue for you.)  It sounds complicated but it's not, the same way the attributes you already look for as you shop (does it wrinkle easily? is the fabric soft?) come naturally to you already.  Just remember, more natural fabrics ARE likely to wrinkle more easily, and you might be willing to put up with that for the sake of the environmental impact... at least sometimes.  On the whole, when you love your clothing and how you look and feel it in, you will be encouraged to keep it and wear it as long as possible.

That includes the third step: take care of what you have.  Invest in a fabric shaver and carry a Tide pen with you.  Wash gently, and as infrequently as possible, using cold water and line-drying where possible.  All of these things will also reduce water and energy waste as well as helping your lovely, timelessly-You clothing last longer.  To level-up, take the time to find out about the qualities of the fabric and how it best stands up under care—and does it REALLY need to be dry-cleaned?  This step might also be helpful in shopping, helping you know what to look for in particular items.

Finally, when you just need a bunch of clothes (new job; wardrobe exasperation; size change) AND you need them cheaply, check out the thrift stores and the “slightly irregular” department stores, but also, organize a clothing swap!  All you need is one house or apartment and a bunch of friends to bring the things they’re just over.  Every time I’ve done this I’ve left with way more fun, new items than I expected to, glad to be rid of what I got rid of, having not spent a dime, and all of the leftovers have gone to a worthy charity. (Full disclosure: I have been known to find a Christmas gift or two this way as well!)

To be continued…!

A Simple Sip

When I receved the email inviting me to join the LoGOFF project, committing to consumerisim that focuses on products that are "LOcal, Green, Organic, Fairtrade and (slave) Free", my first thought was, "NO. WAY."

This was in spite of the fact that I already am involved in an ongoing effort (two years and counting) to do exactly that.  In fact, it was because of my experiences trying to be the most socially conscious consumer possible, on a very limited budget, that my first instinct was to avoid being accountable to anyone but myself in this effort.  I am well aware of what a challenge it is to be a truly informed and conscientious consumer, and have had to learn to be gracious with myself when, because of availability constraints, financial constraints, lack of information, conflicting values or sometimes mere fatigue, buying the most sustainable version of a product is just not what I end up doing.

Take, for example, one simple decision to drink water: I was in an airport waiting to board my flight, and hungry, so I bellied-up to the terminal Quizno's. Seeing Fiji water among the bottled drinks, I could picture the cargo ships hauling it slowly across the ocean, burning thousands of gallons of fuel. Really? For water? The environmental cost was hefty, plus I lacked knowledge as to how the company is treating the local ecosystem and economy (although I did hear a rumor that the Fijian government is going to cut off access to the aquifer, so my guess is, not great).  So I turned and asked the cashier for a cup of tap water instead.  He handed over an empty cup to fill at the fountain... an empty styrofoam cup.  Not biodegradable even under the best circumstances. 

At this point, what is the best thing to do?  The options included styrofoam cup (free), off-brand bottled water (not free, but recyclable container, and more local than the Fiji water), or no water with my sandwich. Airplanes are notoriously dehydrating, which can not only be headache-inducing but can weaken the immune system, and I was already thirsty, but I wasn't going to stand and dither.  Sometimes, there is simply no great option. For that moment, no water for me.