Mattresses and More

via XKCD

You know, I totally meant to spend some time on this blog writing about my search for a new eco-mattress, a search that I undertook in ... September. But then I got engaged in October, and then the holidays came up not long thereafter, and then I went to India, and pretty soon, it's January and I haven't started that set of posts.

But in a way it's a good thing because we've had ample time to break in our mattress so I can give a really full review on that. First things first, though, so I'm going to tell you a little bit more about our search. I'm not going to go into the specifics in terms of comfort (because that's so personal) but mostly focus on the eco-aspects of the different mattresses.

We are lucky living in the Bay Area, so we had a LOT of options for eco-mattress stores. No need to wander Mattress Discounters in search of their ONE eco-mattress. If you don't live in the Bay Area, finding a mattress might be slightly harder, but luckily, almost all of the places we looked at deliver, and they usually have a fairly decent return policy.

So.

One of the first places we ended up looking was Keetsa. Keetsa came at the recommendation of a friend and their store is located not too far away in San Francisco itself. Though they have one full latex mattress, they are mostly known for their wide range of memory foam mattresses. (You may know memory foam by the brand name Tempur-pedic. Tempur-pedic mattresses are probably the most well known memory foam mattresses, but they aren't the only kind out there.)

Here is the good about Keetsa: their mattresses are reasonably affordable as far as eco-mattresses go. And while most memory foam mattresses often off-gas toxic levels of Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs), Keetsa ran a test that shows that their mattresses do not emit VOCs, and they put that test up on their website.

Most memory foam mattresses are made with 100% petroleum, but Keetsa substitute 20% of the petroleum in their mattresses with castor bean oil. And -this is kind of fun- they stick their mattresses in a box so that you can fit your mattress in the back of your car saving time, energy, money, etc.

BUT, their memory foam mattresses are still 80% petroleum. And while they say they don't emit VOCs (and put up a test to prove it) I wasn't entirely convinced. Ideally, I'd like to see a third party independently conduct a test and see what they say.

The other thing that was slightly hilarious was how all the other green mattress stores really, really dislike Keetsa. When we went to one store, the proprietor told us that he had a mattress that came in a box and I immediately exclaimed, "Oh! Like Keetsa!" and he went really quiet and it was really clear that he did NOT LIKE the comparison at all because his eco-mattress was NOTHING like Keetsa even if it did come in a box. In another instance, a saleswoman basically cautioned us against green-washing and then said, "I mean they're affordable, but they only substitute 20% of the petroleum in their mattresses."

Which is fair enough. Keetsa is not a perfect option, but we shouldn't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. They produce reasonably affordable mattresses, I do believe they strive to be as Earth-friendly as possible, and their mattresses appear not to emit VOCs. And according to Yelp, a lot of people find their mattresses really comfortable. Plus, you do always have the option of buying their natural latex mattress which is 100% latex and thus has no petroleum nor VOCs.

Ultimately, though, we decided to keep looking. More mattresses coming up later this week....

Gift Giving: The Honeymoon Registry Edition

So, one thing I have learned since getting engaged: there is a ginormous wedding blogosphere.

GINORMOUS.

I'm actually not sure why this surprised me; after all, this is the internets. There is every kind of blogosphere you could imagine. If there are bloggers out there writing about giving up toilet paper and refrigeration, why wouldn't there be bloggers out there writing about marriage and weddings?

So, because I like reading new blogs, I've been wading my feet in, reading blogs here and there, making new finds, and just generally soaking up the really great writing that you can now find all over the internet.

It's interesting. It's challenging. Because, frankly, sometimes, here in the eco-blogosphere, we're sort of caught in our own little bubble where pretty much everyone shares our own values. The marriage blogosphere? It's a little different. Not that there aren't plenty of men and women out there planning sustainable weddings ... but that's not everyone's goal, nor is every decision made with the ethos of the alt-consumerist eco-nut in mind.

For instance: a recent controversy that erupted on East Side Bride over whether or not it was tacky to register for a honeymoon.

Honestly, the alt-consumerist in me literally *could not fathom* how registering for a honeymoon could in any way be controversial. As someone who always prefers to gift experiences over material goods, I freaking LOVE honeymoon registries. LOVE.

But as I read the comments on this post, I started to see why people felt the way they felt. One commenter wrote:

"Your getting married means that I want to do something to contribute to your marriage over the long long term. Think of it like a barn raising. Do I want to buy you a butter dish that your grandkids will eat out of? Yes."

And see, I GET that. Material goods are tangible. You can hold a butter dish, you can feel its slight heft, and every time you use it, you can think, "Aunt Sue got me that."

On the other hand, experiences are ephemeral. They're held only in our memories, and even those dull over time. In fifty years, you may still have the butter dish (though possibly not- hello planned obsolescence) but your memory of that snorkeling trip you took or the museum you went to may have faded. So I completely get why giving something physical is so important to so many people.

Still, I stand by my support of honeymoon registries and other experiential gifts. As a giver, I still want to contribute to someone's marriage over the long term. But, for me, the way to do that is through experiences. Even if that honeymoon, or date night at a fancy restaurant, or those tickets to the theatre is a distant memory fifty years hence, I believe that those experiential gifts contribute to the sustenance of a marriage. After all, what is marriage, but an agreement to experience life together?

You can raise a barn in many ways: some people will do so by giving you nuts, bolts, and rafters, others will do so by playing the fiddle because barn ain't raised without a dance. It's the same thing with weddings. Some people want to give the nuts and bolts of your daily life: the butter dishes, the tea cups, the pots and pans. Others want to fill your life with music, travel, food, a night out from the daily grind. It's all good. It's all so valid. And all are contributing to a barn being raised, a life being lived.

So, not that anyone asked me, but if someone were to ask me about honeymoon registries? I'd say, go for it. But maybe include a small physical registry too. After all, we all want to give in different ways.

How Do You Feel About the Charity Gift?

Beth of Fake Plastic Fish has a brilliant post up about charitable gift cards where she calculates exactly how much of your money is going to said charity versus to the intermediary company, because she's mathtastic like that. Go read it and then bookmark it for later.

But her post made me wonder ... how do you all feel about the charity contribution gift?

In some ways, I like it ... especially if it is a thoughtful one. For instance, if I know my friend is very involved in a particular non-profit organization, I think it's a very nice gift to support said non-profit in their honor.

I also love how many brides and grooms these days are registering for charity donations in lieu of yet another crystal vase.

That being said, I still very very rarely get people charitable contributions as gifts.

It's not that I don't love supporting charity. I do. And it's not that I feel the need to get people THINGS, because I totally don't. But I guess when I'm getting a gift, I want it to register longer than the millisecond it takes someone to read that I paid X dollars to a charity in honor of them and think, "Oh, that's nice."

Which is why I sort of think the charity gift card or a gift certificate to an organization like Donor's Choose is preferable ... at least in those situations the recipient gets to be an active participant in the charity process.

Still, there's something that sits wrong there for me. Maybe it's because in my mind a gift is a gift and charity is charity and I'm not sure there's a need to conflate the two. Give a gift to someone because you love them, give to charity because you support the organization, but a gift of charity feels ... I dunno, a little 'moralistic' maybe. As much as I believe that we as a society are over materialistic, it breaks my heart just a teeny tiny bit when I read about parents who request no gifts for kids birthday parties or ask for charitable donations instead. As a kid, I *loved* picking out gifts for my friends. I guess I still love picking out gifts, when I'm not super pressed for time and stressed out, that is.

But maybe I'm being a charity curmudgeon. Maybe so much of gift giving has turned out into an obligatory hassle that, frankly, a charity gift is just as good as the Starbucks gift card, and is probably more helpful to the world to boot.

What do you all think?

Adventures in Craigslisting

So my boyfriend and I have been on the lookout for a little cart for our kitchen for a while. Now, we could have just gone to Ikea, and picked out any number of these kitchen carts, but as much as I'm now a normal little consumerist just like anyone else, I made a pledge to myself that this move was not going to involve a trip to the Ikea store. Every other time I've moved (except when I moved to London), I've worshiped at the Ikea altar. But that was all BEFORE. Now, I can't help but feel like Ikea represents some of the worst excesses of our throw-it-away culture. Because they make furniture SO cheap, everyone just buys it, and then dumps it a year or so later. As much as I am willing to shop and buy new, even venturing into the big box stores now and then, Ikea is my current line in the sand. The one I'm not yet willing to cross.

So, instead I hit Craigslist for kitchen carts. I quickly found that even if I were willing to go to Ikea, it would be completely foolish to do so: there are a plethora of Ikea kitchen carts on Craigslist for dirt cheap. Why pay $60, when you could pay $10? My opposition to Ikea doesn't extend to used Ikea furniture on Craigslist, but honestly, neither of the ubiquitous Ikea kitchen carts were quite what we wanted.

So, we kept looking. This one was too small, another too wide. Another too ugly, another too far away. Meanwhile, our microwave continued to sit on the floor. Finally, I was ready to call it a day, and just pick up one of the many used Ikea carts, when we found it. A nice, fairly solid cart with a couple of drawers and extra shelving.

Excited, I quickly made an appointment to view the cart. I gave my boyfriend the dimensions and asked him whether or not he thought the cart would fit in the back of our car.

"Yeah, it should," he said nonchalantly. And I, eager to pick up the cart, believed him.

I know. Big mistake.

So, we find the cart, and it looks as advertised, and is clean and in good shape. We pay the nice couple some cash, and wheel the cart into the warm San Francisco night to our car.

Where it turns out, that, in fact, no, the cart will NOT fit. We try the trunk. We try the back seat. We try multiple configurations, saying "Pivot" really loud, but nothing seems to work.

So now, we're stuck on some random street with our kitchen cart.

My boyfriend suggests we call a friend with a station wagon. I suggest we hire a taxi mini-van. He pulls out his cell phone to call his friend, while I stand on the street corner to hail down a cab. He's on the phone with his friend when a taxi mini-van pulls over. I grab my boyfriend and we explain our situation to the cab driver. The driver seems dubious about the whole endeavor, but agrees that we can bring the cart over and try to load it into the van. We run to the cart and grab it to bring to the taxi, and ... he's long gone.

So.

Round two. My boyfriend tries to call his friend again. I head back to the corner to try and find yet another cab. After a minute or two, I manage to hail another mini van. Again, the cab driver is dubious, but this one pulls over and puts the seats down in the back. We bring the cart over, and the cab driver shakes his head. "It's not going to fit, but you can try," he says.

We tip the cart gently into the back of the minivan and it fits!! Success!!

Relieved to no longer be stuck on the street, I get in the cab, and my boyfriend follows behind with the car.

We get home and quickly wheel the cart into place, satisfied that our Craigslisting adventures paid off.

I guess that's one more advantage to not going to Ikea. While going to Ikea means you're less likely to wind up stranded on the street with a kitchen cart, you also do have to get home and assemble said cart from ancient Scandinavian scrolls. Given my proclivity for immediate gratification, it was nice to have the cart look like this five minutes after entering:

Cute, huh? Thanks, Craigslist, my microwave appreciates having a real home.

Moving is Hard

We have internet!!

Finally. After several desperate days without, I am now free to procrastinate all the live long day online.

Actually, it's probably a good thing that we had no internet at the new place because it allowed me time to, you know, UNPACK, and that kind of crap.

So, I'm sure you're wondering how the move is going, or maybe you're not because who really cares about other people's moves? But I am not deterred by your lack of interest and I will happily tell you this that you already know, but forget when you decide to shift house.

Moving blows.

It is a lot of carrying things, and shlepping. There is a lot of frowning as you wonder where to hang that picture. No, not there. Not there either. Nope. Oh forget it. Your apartment is never going to look like those Apartment Therapy pads no matter how you try.

And of course there is a lot of buying.

Yesterday, I impulsively bought a super ugly blonde wood bookcase and file cabinet off of Craigslist. To be fair, they're not actually that ugly. They're perfectly respectable Ikea-esque specimens. And they're the exact right size for what I needed in the office. But the wood definitely doesn't match the rest of our furniture, not to mention the floors. So now, I've been racking my brain trying to come up with ways to make the furniture less attractive.

So far, I've thought about painting, wallpapering, or decoupaging.

Either way, it seems like an awful lot of work.

Did I mention that I am really not crafty?

So internets, if you had boring blond Ikea furniture that you wanted to jazz up what would you do? What would you do if you were extremely lazy as I am? And what would you do if you didn't want to spend too much money?

AUGH

So I don't know if I mentioned this, but I'm moving. My boyfriend and I are moving out of the current place we share with a roommate to a place of our own.

We're very excited ... the new places is super cute, and two bedrooms which means we get an office/guest bedroom. It has a nice large kitchen and also a little outdoor space.

But it's also a little nerve-wracking. No, not because I'm worried about living by myself with my boyfriend or anything. But because, well ....

The other day I was talking to my friend about the move, and she said to me, "So you do know that you are going to have to BUY things, right?!!"

Gulp.

Yes, yes, I know I have to buy things. I know, I know.

And I know that I'll likely even have to buy NEW things. We'll still probably buy some used furniture, but since we are planning to stay in the Bay Area for a very long time (read: possibly forever) we also want to buy stuff with a sense of permanence.

So, you know, we need a bath mat. Hand towels. A doo-dad to hold soap so that the sink doesn't get gritty and soap-scummy. And since we're putting our old bed in the guest bedroom, we need a new mattress, sheets, and pillows.

These are things that we have to buy new. Because, frankly, used bath mats are kinda gross, and what with all the bed bug pandemics, I'm not taking my chances with a used mattress.

Plus, there are the kitchen appliances and accoutrements we will now have to buy. And some of these we can buy used, but some of them will prove difficult.

So my point is, I have to shop.

And guys? I am *not* good at that.

Like, the other day, I spent several hours researching a new electric kettle. I want one with as little plastic as possible, that has no plastic coming in contact with the water. After hours of reading and reviewing and debating, I finally just gave up. And made a cup of tea in my old, completely plastic-and-likely-leaking-toxic-chemicals, kettle.

Luckily my mother came to the rescue with a stainless steel electric kettle that is sitting around in her garage. I haven't looked at the reviews, but I don't care. After all it's used.

And that's the problem. Used stuff is so easy for me to buy. If it breaks after six months, I care a lot less. After all it was used. I probably spent $10. And while I'm obviously concerned about toxic chemicals leaching, I don't care as much about manufacturing impact when I'm buying used. After all, I'm not contributing to the manufacturer's profit, I'm delaying a product's trip to the dump.

With new, I feel like I need to do the research and MAKE IT PERFECT. You know, perfectly environmental, perfectly healthy, perfectly manufactured with fair wages paid to laborers, etc, etc, etc. But it's hard. There's a lot of information to dig through and while that's easy enough when you're buying one thing, it's a whole lot harder when you have to buy a dozen new kitchen things.

And that's the other thing. I am unsure of all the things I NEED and what I can at least put off buying. You don't know how much agonizing I had to do to convince myself that yes, a bath mat is NECESSARY. Because I don't want to live in a FRAT HOUSE.

What do I buy new and what do I buy used? Do I bite the bullet and buy a new trash can? (Those things are surprisingly expensive.) Or do I scour Craigslist and hold out for a used one? What about canisters for sugar, flour, and rice? What about wooden hangers and picture frames?

And, and, (I understand that this is turning into a long, babbling post, this is what the prospect of shopping does to me) WHERE do I buy all these things? I'm not shopping at Target (see previous post) and I am kind of philosophically opposed to Ikea, which I believe makes crappy, cheap furniture enabling too many college students to adopt a "buy new and dump it next year" approach to furniture when they could be buying stuff off Craigslist.

So what does that leave me? Is Bed, Bath, and Beyond okay? Do I want to know if it's not? Can I buy a bath mat at an independent store? Will it cost me $50?

The point is people, that THIS IS WHY I DON'T SHOP. Because it makes me a nut case. So if you see me at the store staring vacantly at the trash cans for an hour, do me a favor and give me a hug. And then tell me which trash can to buy.

Boycotting Shopping

The recent boycott of Target has reminded me of how difficult and pointless I used to think shopping boycotts were.

Back before I became a non-consumer I considered information about corporate misdeeds overwhelming. It seemed like every company was doing something it shouldn't. I mean I couldn't just STOP SHOPPING, could I? So I might as well just keep shopping everywhere. They're all bad, but what can I do?

And then one day the lightbulb turned on and I realized that yes, in fact, I could just STOP shopping. So I did.

Now, I'm not going to tell you that you SHOULD boycott Target. That's your own business and you have to base that decision on your own political, moral, and ethical beliefs. I will say that, in my personal opinion as a bleeding heart liberal, I think Target may have cuter clothes than Walmart, but it ain't much better from a progressive politics point of view. Target's recent political donation was one instance in a larger stream of troubling actions.

As I said, my opinion on Target is based on my liberal bias, a position I certainly don't expect everyone reading this blog to share. However, if YOU want to boycott Target, but aren't sure if you can, well then keep reading.

Because I am here to tell you that you most certainly CAN boycott Target.

"How?" you may be wondering. "How can I boycott TARGET? They have everything. Especially cute purses. And they are so conveniently located in the urban/suburban environment where I live, unlike Wal-Mart which is easy to boycott because it's not located anywhere near me!"

It's true that Target has everything. It's very true that they have cute purses. Nonetheless, I promise you that if you want to, you can do it.

Here are my tips for avoiding Target:

1) Stop shopping. Okay, kidding. I know that it's not totally realistic to expect everyone to stop shopping. But seriously, it can be done. Just ask Megan. Or Colin. Or Katy. Or even me! Even if you don't stop shopping you can seriously limit your shopping. I typically don't buy something without several weeks (sometimes months) of consideration. You will be amazed by how much you don't actually NEED. Like that cute purse.

2) Shop Craigslist. And thrift stores. And eBay. And Amazon Marketplace. You will be amazed by how many awesome used things you can find for super cheap. Even cute purses!

3) Use (some) of the money you've saved from buying less and buying used to support local businesses. The sad truth is big box stores like Target can often afford to charge much less than your local mom and pop. But if you're saving money by consuming less, you can also afford to pay a little more on the few things you DO end up buying.

4) Do your homework. Are there big companies with good practices who you are willing to support? For example, Costco has been profiled as a company that is good to its employees. If so, shop there.

5) Don't go there. Or near there. Avoid temptation by not driving past Target every day. Out of sight, out of mind.

As for me, yeah, I probably won't shop at Target. Although I do love their purses.

Balance In The Form Of A Toothbrush Holder

There are some incredibly thoughtful and insightful comments up about my previous post, so thank you everyone for taking the time to weigh in.

I agree with what many of you mentioned. Living sustainably is all about finding the right balance for you. Like eating right or exercising, you have to find what works for your life. And that is likely going to be different than what works for someone else.

Katy mentioned that she wished more eco-bloggers continued blogging seriously after their "eco-challenges," because in some ways, finding the balance is the more interesting and relevant story. And, I agree with that as well. It's inspiring to see that people can give up fridges or heat or shopping or what have you for a year, but it's in some ways even more inspiring to see how people handle the day to day of their lives year after year after year.

And I think that's one of the reasons why I've kept blogging. Why I don't gloss over my struggles.

I was talking to Honda a couple months ago about how everything I own is falling apart. This is what happens when you go from being a non-consumer to being a student to being unemployed. I haven't really bought much in 2.5 years, and well, it shows. My laptop is dead. My iPod is almost dead. I need all new shoes.

I haven't figured out yet how I'm going to handle all the new purchases I will inevitably have to make. The other day, I stood in the Bath aisle of Bed, Bath and Beyond for fifteen minutes trying to decide whether or not to buy a toothbrush holder. On the one hand, not having one had been bugging me and I was fairly certain a toothbrush holder was going to be hard to come by used. (And while I am generally very pro-used things, I also think the likelihood is high that if I found a used toothbrush holder it would be kinda grody.) On the other hand, a toothbrush holder is hardly a necessity.

If I had lacked a toothbrush holder during my year of non-consumerism, I would have sucked it up and gone without. I would have used a cup, or just left my toothbrush on the sink.

But I'm not a strict non-consumer anymore. I wanted a toothbrush holder and I could get a fairly inoffensive one fairly cheaply.

So I bought it. Because life is, above all, about finding balance. And while I don't plan to become a spendthrift, I also am ready to start buying a couple things here and there that might not be, strictly speaking, necessities.

What Not to Buy For The Holidays

Actually, this post is not really going to be about rampant consumerism. I'm not going to suggest you pare down your list, or avoid plastic toys. I am not going to wax poetic about the joys of thrift shopping, or suggest you buy people experiences instead of things. I'm not going to plug Etsy or encourage everyone to take up knitting. After all, I've written those posts, you've written those posts, and frankly, today I'm just not feeling it. Instead, I'm going to talk about bad eco gifts.

Bad eco gifts? Is there such a thing, you may ask? Yes, as much as it pains me to admit it, there are.

Such as?

Diva cups. Don't buy your 15 year old niece one for Christmas. She won't appreciate it. Really. Please. Don't do it. And DON'T EVEN THINK about buying a used one!

CFL light bulbs. This is the gift that keeps on boring. Let's think a little more creative, shall we?

And also, no reusable grocery bags, please. Once upon a time, you could maybe get away with getting people a cool reusable bag. But at this point most people have reusable bags coming out of their ears. Stay away.

Carbon offsets. Buying offsets for yourself are a way to perhaps ease some guilt. Buying them for someone else is just reminding them of their eco-sinner ways. Stick to donating to an environmental non-profit in their name.

Baking soda. Yes, you can do a million things with it. But it also costs less than a dollar. And everyone has a box in the fridge.

Anyone else have some bad idea holiday gifts? Or alternatively, think I'm wrong about my bad idea gifts? Let me know!

Wherein Our Heroine Gets Carried Off By the Wind

Um, how the hell did it become late July already? What is going on here?!!

Sigh.

In just over five weeks, I will turn in my dissertation.

In just over five weeks, I will be leaving London.

In just over five weeks, my stuff will be packed up, and I will be living out of a suitcase.

Again.

Yes, I'm leaving London. At least for now. The current plan seems to be to go to New York by way of India. Yes, I'm aware that India is not *technically* on the way to New York. But homeland, and more importantly, family calls ... and so off I shall go.

I've been behind on my blog reading and writing, but today I read Green Bean's post about her small home.

And it made me reflect, once again on my stuff.

When I was in college, I took pride in the fact that I had very little in the way of stuff. I felt like it was important for a person to only have as much stuff as could fit in the back of a Honda Civic. That was how a young person was supposed to live. Rootless, free as a bird, able to take off on a whim.

Then I moved to Los Angeles. And though I assumed that my vagabond lifestyle would somewhat continue, I instead developed these awful things.

Roots.

I lived in one ghetto apartment next to, I am not making this up, a bona-fide drug dealer. One time, we came home and there were helicopters above and about five or six police cars on the street.

Also, the roof leaked and the balcony in the master bedroom tilted so that rainwater would spill over into the room, and we had to evacuate our rooms several times so that the carpet could be pulled up and dried so we would't get mold. So what I'm saying is that this apartment was maybe not the most awesome place in the world.

Nevertheless, I continued to live there. For FIVE years. Because I was lazy. And I had started to acquire stuff. More stuff than one could fit in a Honda Civic. I owned a FRIDGE, for God's sake. Moving was a bitch. Plus, all my stuff was there, the walls were decorated, my room felt properly kitted out. For all its faults, this place was home.

After five years, I was finally persuaded to move. I moved into a much NICER neighborhood, painted it, decorated it, bought more new stuff, and decided I loved my place too much and was going to live in it until the day I died.

Except, that I didn't. Because I got rid of most of my stuff, got on a plane to London, and ended up in a room the size of a postage stamp with two suitcases.

I am glad I didn't acquire a whole bunch of stuff in London. Because frankly, it's going to make moving much easier.

But I also realize that without all that stuff, there is a feeling of impermanence. Although I love London and seriously considered staying here, I never felt that I was really much more than a traveler to these parts.

And yes, there are many reasons for that, but I'll tell you what. Never underestimate the power of stuff. To weigh you down, yes, but also to anchor you and to settle you.

I have stuff therefore I am.

Without my stuff, I always felt more like I was in a hotel than in my own home. Meanwhile, I still seem to suffer under the delusion that my home is still waiting for me in Los Angeles. The walls still painted turquoise and brown, the crumbs in the papasan still needing to be vacuumed.

No matter that I got rid of the papasan. And the bed. And the futon. And the fridge. And the CAR.

So, in a few weeks, this girl who lacks the weight of any substantial possessions shall take flight once again. To India, and then for a couple months, to New York.

Now, you know me, I'm not big on the consumerism, but I do wonder if I'll have to buy a lot more stuff before I ever feel like I'm truly at home again. I do wonder if somewhere there is a balance between weighted down and feather-light.

In the mean time, when people ask me where home is, I'll likely answer as per usual, "Los Angeles." It may not be where I lay my head, but it's where I once I owned a fridge.

There I go again...

Living up to my moniker by stirring up trouble once again.

So, today one of my classmates commented about how it was interesting that whereas fair labor practices for say ... tennis shoes have really taken off and it's now viewed that companies must practice fair labor practices or risk protest, fair trade is still a niche market, and companies aren't really called into question if their food isn't fair trade.

It's a weird double standard, isn't it? And yet, I think her comment is right on, considering a recent debate I've been having with a colleague: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

Now, I appreciate enthusiastic debate, and this one was no exception. I thoroughly appreciated all of Jeff's comments. But I have to admit, I do think it's a little bit weird and also slightly depressing that calling a company out for claiming to be socially responsible while not practicing fair trade is enough to get you labeled as a "puritanical scold."

The funny thing is that in the past I've praised, among other things, Clorox Green Works, Starbucks, and In N Out here and on other blog sites. For heaven's sake, I just admitted my soda and junk food addiction. I'm hardly some sort of ethical purist.

But ... okay ... let's say a corporation, let's call them Shmike for the sake of this argument, let's say Shmike was producing I don't know ... shoes that made you fall down a lot. Now for me, that wouldn't be any different from any other shoes, but, let's imagine that these shoes made even vaguely graceful people fall down a lot. So these shoes cause people to fall which is not particularly healthy. Let's say these shoes are also made by children in sweatshop conditions.

Now let's say Shmike reacts to some of the bad press surrounding their shoes that make people fall down a lot. And even though there are plenty of people who still are buying the shoes (because even though they make you fall down, they are pretty cool) they decide to listen to the growing clamor of parents and podiatrists and decide to get out of the business of making shoes that cause people to fall down. So they make new shoes that don't make people fall down, but in fact cause people to walk normal ... you know ... like shoes are SUPPOSED to do. But they still use child labor.

Given this case, would you say that Shmike was really being socially responsible? Would you applaud Shmike for no longer making shoes that cause people to fall down? Or would you say, "Well, that's nice that your shoes no longer make people fall down, but uh, how about you stop with the sweatshops, mkay?"

The truth is that the real "Shmike" has enacted much better labor practices because of international advocacy. Again, look, I am all for kids eating more fruits and vegetables and all the other things that Michael Pollan loves. But if we can agree that sweatshops are bad, can't we also agree that sweatshop-shop like conditions for agricultural workers are also bad? Can't we agree that while no one wants to be a puritanical scold, we can't really call a company "socially responsible" if they are not engaging in fair labor practices?

Or are we really so desperate for kids in the North to eat a frickin apple, that we are willing to sell out poor laborers in the South?

Cheap?

Today, I was reading an article in Yahoo! News about tightwads, and one of their examples was a woman who is so frugal that when her blow dryer broke, she was using a fan to dry her hair until her friends bought her a new hair dryer. She also uses every drop of lotion, and uses uneaten portions of her kids bagels to make pizza toppings. Other fellow cheapskates did crrrazy things like make their own fabric softener and detergent.

Hmmm. Does that sound like anyone I know? Or like a lot of people I know? Or in some ways, like me?

I guess I never thought of it as severe tightwaddery, but I just don't think it's so weird that someone would use a fan as a blow dryer. It sounds like the kind of insane thing I would do. For example, I don't have a full length mirror in my room, and I am too lazy to go out and buy one. So instead, I use the bathroom mirror, and occasionally, I check out my reflection in the window. Is that insane? Am I insane?

I do shop now. This past weekend I bought a pair of sneakers because I didn't own a pair, and life was getting a little annoying without sneakers. And I also bought a gorgeous skirt from an arts and crafts market. But I did without sneakers for an obscenely long time before I finally caved.

And I don't make my own fabric softener, but I also don't use fabric softener. Nor do I use dryer sheets. Nor paper towels. Nor sponges.

Sure it saves money, and I'm happy to save money, but I never really thought of it as "cheap." Instead I've more thought of it as saving money for the things that I actually enjoy buying. Like the occasional gorgeous skirt designed by a small, local artist. Or used books. Or theatre tickets. Or chocolate. Mmmmm ... chocolate.

I don't know what these so-called cheap people are saving for, but maybe they would just prefer to put their money in their kids' college funds instead of buying a hair dryer. Or maybe they would prefer to save for a vacation instead of buying fabric softener. Is that being cheap? Or is that simply having different values and preferences?

The truth is, I don't think I can in any way be classified as cheap. Even when I was a non-consumer, except for the month when Megan and I were doing our Pseudo-Freegan challenge, and I was eating bagels leftover in the work kitchen for a week on end, I don't know that I could be classified as cheap. Because I've always been willing to spend money on what matters to me: education, travel, books, music, theatre, food. Yeah, I don't spend money on fabric softener. But ... my clothes are plenty soft.

Here's the thing. In the end, you can't take it with you. So you are probably going to spend that money at one point or another. The question is just what do you prefer to spend your money on. So why make it a value judgement. Why call someone cheap just because they prefer not to spend money on detergent?

Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend?

No, I'm not engaged or anywhere NEAR engaged, but I'm a girl, and occasionally I think about these kinds of things.

Once upon a time, I had decided that if I ever were to get engaged, I wanted a princess cut diamond from Tiffany's with a platinum band.

Looking back, I can't really believe that that was actually what I wanted. I mean, clearly it's what I wanted because it's what *everyone* wanted. But the truth is, that's not really me. Even if I didn't care about the cost, or the environmental factors, princess cut Tiffany's? Can you imagine that being ME? Okay, you may not know me very well, but trust me. It's not me.

Now, the non-consumer in me has a preference towards second-hand, err, I mean antique, rings. I'd guess an antique diamond would be insanely expensive, but there are other cool stones out there. If I ever wind up getting married, that would probably be what I would lean towards. I'm not particularly set on a diamond anyway.

But if you like the diamond look, what do you do? My friends were having this discussion, and I think people generally agreed that antique diamonds were great if they were affordable. A lot of my friends have diamonds that have been passed on from generation to generation so that's an EXTREMELY affordable option! And it's more meaningful to be wearing your grandmother's ring, I think. (Unless your grandmother had a horrible marriage, in which case I'm not sure if it is better, you know, symbolically.)

The other options are, of course, conflict-free diamonds and synthetic diamonds. Conflict-free diamonds, are again, probably expensive. Synthetic diamonds have the advantage of being cheaper, and as one of my incredibly wise friends pointed out, it reduces the general demand for natural diamonds which is probably a good thing. It's funny to think that natural is bad, and artificial is good, but diamonds are probably one of the few things where artificial really is the more environmental option by far.

Of course, there is a bit of me that is sternly chastising the rest of me (what can I say, it's hard being me.) Because, the truth is, engagement rings can hardly be classified as a need. Presumably, you're going to be getting a wedding ring soon enough, so the real non-consumer answer is probably to just forgo the engagement ring entirely. BUT, the tiny mushy romantic in me is hard pressed to give up entirely on engagement rings. I know it's unnecessary, but I freaking LOVE seeing my newly engaged friends' rings, and I love seeing them beam as they proudly extend their hands. I'm eco, but I'm not a grinch.

So for you married peeps, what kind of engagement ring did you get? Would you get a different one if you were making the decision today? Did any of you get your husbands engagement rings? And for you single folks, if you ever decide to tie the knot, do you have any thoughts as to what kind of ring you'll get?

Think Global, Act Local ... And It's All Local

You know that book Don't Sweat the Small Stuff ... And It's All Small Stuff? Yeah, I never read it either, but lately I've been applying that same logic to that ubiquitous phrase "Think Global, Act Local." Think global, act local ... and it's all local. If that hadn't been hammered home enough during the global financial crisis, it was certainly hammered home on Tuesday when people from all over the world rejoiced over the election of Barack Obama. Why? Because very simply, what happens in America affects the entire world.

Every act you make now has global consequences. As Bill McKibben pointed out in his book Deep Economy, American demand for plastic shower curtains produced in China is helping to pull many Chinese young men and women out of poverty. While I might not encourage people to buy new plastic shower curtains from an environmental point of view, I cannot deny that shower curtain factories produce jobs for people who desperately need them. In The End of Poverty Jeffrey Sachs talks to some Bangladeshi women who work in sweatshops producing clothes destined, most likely, for America. Although their work environments are poor, still, the women are grateful for the work, and for the opportunities they see arising from their paid labor.

I've always been a little wary about the idea of buying locally simply because I feel it ignores this component. And when locavores don't ignore the component, such as Bill McKibben, they often seem left with no ready answer. McKibben points out that globalization has increased the prosperity of many Chinese people, and I give him credit for that. But he never resolves the issue for himself. How do we deal with the legitimate environmental concerns related to shipping products around the world, and yet still ensure better lives and more opportunity for those workers in Chinese factories? If we, as environmentalists are telling people not to buy cheap plastic goods produced in China due to the hidden negative externalities of cheap plastic, what is the engine that produces equality?

Because here's the thing. The surest way to get less cheap plastic crap on the market? Is to make that cheap plastic crap more expensive to produce. And a great way to make that cheap plastic crap more expensive is if labor becomes more expensive. That is, if people have more opportunities, and better job possibilities, then working in a shower curtain factory is suddenly not so appealing. Why are there almost zero shower curtain factories in the United States? Because people don't want those jobs. Because labor is expensive. Because most people living in America can find better work that pays MORE.

So right now our global corporations send those jobs abroad where labor is cheaper. Essentially, in my opinion, the answer isn't to boycott goods made in China, but to reduce inequality. Because, frankly, when the whole world is making say, between $15,000 and $20,000 a year? Those plastic shower curtains are going to become veeeery expensive to produce. Why don't people fix their DVD players when they break? Because it's cheaper to buy new. But those $10 DVD players, rampant consumerism, and a need to buy new, new, new are built on the backs of cheap labor. Once labor starts getting expensive, so do the DVD players.

But besides all that, here's the truth. Those Chinese workers in the factory? They are part of my community. They are human beings, and thus, my people. And they have as much right to their dreams as does the person who lives next door.

So what am I saying? Am I saying that we should all start buying produce from South Africa because it enhances South Africa economy, that we should all start buying plastic shower curtains by the dozen from China?

No. But what I'm saying, is we need to start framing things differently. Buy local food, by all means, but buy your sugar fair trade, and your chocolate fair or equitrade. And next time you're dying for a banana, then get yourself a damn banana, just get it fair trade. Buy goods at your local mom and pop green store, but if the shoes you buy happen to be ethically and sustainably produced in China, treat that as a WIN, as opposed to a loss. Take the money you save by forgoing the plastic shower curtain, and lend it to someone in the developing world at Kiva.org. And the next time you have to talk to IT support in India, instead of griping about how you can't understand the accent, take a moment to remember that these IT jobs have enormously benefitted India, have pulled thousands and thousands into the middle class, and that the environmental negatives for phone support are fairly small.

We must stop viewing the world in terms of us versus them. There's only us. Think global, act local, but remember it's all local. So by all means, buy products from your farmers' markets, support the seamstress who lives next door. But remember, that the choices we make directly impact people all over the world, and not just our neighborhood. Remember, we are all human beings. We are all entitled to dignity, to food, to health care, to work, to education. We are all entitled to dream big.

*This is my post for the November APLS carnival. There is STILL time to get your submissions in. Write your post about buying local and email it to aplscarnival (at) gmail (dot) com.*

Thankful for...

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm a wee bit vain about my looks. And one of the things I've always prided myself on is my skin... that is until a few months ago when I used Body Shop's terrible plastic fish-killer face wash and ruined my skin. (Ok, not maybe AS tragic as the plankton that were indubitably killed, but tragic, nonetheless.) 

I found a new face wash, and the problem got better, but the breakouts never went away. One day, I had had it. So when I found this blemish stick with tea tree oil at my crunchy store, I decided to give it a go. 

And I have to say, it worked a miracle on my face. Who knew the magic of tea tree oil?

So, yeah, I know it's a little silly, but, hey it's Friday. So today, I'm thankful for my tea tree oil blemish stick. If you are susceptible to breakouts but want to use something natural on your skin, I highly recommend it.

Of Cutting Boards and Sealing Wax, Of Cabbages and Kings

One of the things that I've been loving recently, is that all the mountains and mountains of reading I've been doing have allowed me to articulate a lot of the ideas I've felt but was unsure how to express. And once I've figured out how to express it, I can express it on this blog and get feedback before turning it into some sort of presentation or dissertation.

That's right. All y'all are my little guinea pigs for papers I write for school. Don't like it? Too bad! It's my blog!! Haha!!

But seriously, my brain is starting to hurt now, so no Malthusian debates today. But maybe tomorrow if you're really lucky! Instead, I want to talk about cutting boards. Or rather my lack thereof.

Here's the deal. All the people I know who have attempted non-consumer lifestyles have always started from a position of being pretty well settled. This was true for me last year too. I already had a cutting board. And pots and pans. And a wine bottle opener.

When I moved to London, I came with two big bags, a carry-on and a laptop bag. So, basically, I came with almost nothing but clothes.

Now, I've managed to do pretty well all things considered in terms of not buying new stuff. I got a used TV and digital box. I got used wooden hangers, used plates and cutlery, a used pot, pan, and wok. I borrowed a towel and a set of sheets from my aunt. In fact, the only new thing I've gotten in London are the pillows on my bed.

BUT.

I'm reaching a point where I'm having trouble. I don't have a cutting board. I haven't been able to find a used cutting board. And frankly, I don't have TIME what with all the reading and crap, to run around London to purchase a used cutting board.

And I desperately need a cutting board. You try cutting a loaf of sourdough bread without one. It sucks.

At what point is buying used a waste of resources and energy? At what point do you throw in the towel, and say, "Hello, Ikea!"

I'd *like* a DVD player. But you won't catch me buying that new. Because it's not essential. I can wait until I find a used DVD player near to me. If it takes a few months, well, I need to be reading anyway. But I can't wait a few months for a cutting board. I can barely wait a couple weeks.

This is where it's hard. When you don't have a history of shopping to back you up. When you're a non-consumer starting from scratch. Last year was a piece of cake, comparatively.

Who knew how complicated a cutting board would be?

Dear Blog

I have a lot of things to catch you up on. Like, hey, I'm not homeless anymore! I managed to get a "studio apartment" in a dorm. It is costing me a bajillion dollars, and it's the size of a very, very small hotel room, and it FEELS like a hotel, but I can walk to class! I "moved" in yesterday, and I say "moved" in, because literally, I have a sheet on the bed, a comforter, and a few pairs of underwear in a drawer. 

Now I'm trying to deal with how to find dishes and pots and pans and hangers and all that other brilliant stuff.

It is SO tempting to just go to a giant Tesco and buy all of this stuff and have it done with. But, I'm not. At least, I'm not right now. Ask me again in six weeks when I'm still searching for knives. 

Instead, I've signed up on Freecycle. I'm scouring Gumtree, and I'll probably hit up my local Oxfam store when I figure out where my local Oxfam store is.

The thing that I've been missing the most lately is Trader Joes. Sniff. Because frankly, I have no idea where in London I can get my eco-Soaps, dishwashing detergent, etc. Trader Joes, why do you only exist in the US?! Okay, probably what keeps you awesome is that you are a relatively small non-multi-national company but still. 

Speaking of multi-national companies, the first day I arrived in Britain, I went to Tesco with my British relatives for groceries. And when I walked in, I was kinda amazed. Like here was this store with clothing, and books, and electronics and stuff, and it also had a FULL grocery section. "Wow," I thought, "This place is like a Super Target only BIGGER than Super Target!"

Heh. What I didn't realize until I started reading The End of Food by Paul Roberts is that Tesco is basically the UK's version of Walmart. Of course, I didn't think to compare Tesco to Walmart, because shockingly, I've never actually been inside a Walmart. (Once, on a trip in an RV, we slept in a Walmart parking lot, but I didn't venture in the store.) Sadly, that claim to fame is now ruined, since I've been to Tesco like 10 times in the past week. 

Anyway, I'll try and be back full time next week, though it's the first week of classes and I still have no clothes hangers, so I shouldn't make any promises. If anyone knows anywhere I can get eco-dishwashing detergent and such in London, please let me know! And those of you in the US, give your Trader Joe's a big fat kiss on the lips for me.

Non Non-Consumerist Update

I am sure a lot of you are wondering how much I've been buying since I renounced my vows of non-consumerism.

Well, I had planned to hit the thrift stores and pick up a couple new pieces of clothing, but funnily I didn't much feel like that once I started packing up all my stuff!

So, so far, I've bought the following new:

Things That Shall Not Be Mentioned
Suitcase
An External Hard Drive
Recycled Plastic Soap Case

I actually had a gift certificate to Amazon, so the external hard drive was free. My computer is slowly wearing out, and I figured I probably should be, you know, responsible, and all, and back up my files regular like. God forbid my computer crash and I lose the only copy of my thesis! (Though I will guiltily admit that it was all my music that I really worried about losing.)

So while I have been shopping, I feel pretty good about my purchases. They were carefully thought through, they are useful, and they are all fairly necessary.

Of course, in a week I go to India where shopping has always been a highlight of the trip. It will be interesting to see how much I succumb to the pretty! cheap! jewelry and the beadwork shirts.

The New Suitcase

I have to admit, living in a black and white world is much easier, but a world of gray is much more interesting.

This week's gray purchase was a new suitcase. Now I know many of you might be wondering why I didn't purchase a used suitcase. It seems like such a simple thing to find on Craigslist.

And it is. A search on Craigslist for a suitcase turned up 78 results. But hang on a second. Look at these prices! $65, $60, $100! And none of them were really exactly what I wanted. Some were too big, some were too small, some were located miles and miles away. Some of them claimed to be "vintage" by which they meant "without wheels."

Okay look. Generally speaking, I am perfectly happy to pay more for quality. But suitcases are an exception to the rule. Why on Earth would I pay $100 for something that is going to be battered around by airline crews? I once owned a nice suitcase, and a few years later it resembled a squashed fruit. If squashed fruit looked like suitcases with broken zippers. Never again!

Instead, my mom, who has been my life-saver in town for the weekend, went to Santee Alley in Downtown LA. Santee Alley is home to cheap clothes, knock off purses, and ridiculously cheap luggage. She bought mine for $30.

So there you have it. One new suitcase. Is it Samsonite? Heck no! Will it do just as good a job of storing my stuff until an airline crew rips it to shreds? I think so.

If I had needed a suitcase in the last year, I would have sucked it up and bought an expensive used one. Or maybe I would have gone to Goodwill and bought a cheap used one that looked like it was already battered to shreds. But now living in the gray? I just couldn't justify the extra expense, not to mention the inconvenience of driving all the way out to someone's home in Santa Monica to pick up a suitcase.

Am I justifying my new suitcase? Maybe a little. This gray thing isn't easy. But overall I think it was the right decision.

Now I just have to pack.

The Lone Sock

Dear Kim,

Last night while I was going through my closet, finding more and more clothes to send to Goodwill, I came across a sock of yours buried in my sock drawer.

You actually left this sock at my apartment when you visited like ... four years ago. And I kept it, all this time, because I have good intentions but crap follow through, and I have intended to get your sock back to you forever.

Which is kinda weird because I'm sure, had I told you I was saving your sock for you, you would have been like, "Dude, I threw out the mate years ago. Get rid of the sock."

But honestly, the sock never came up in any of our conversations. And every time you visited subsequently, I would forget. And now that you're never going to visit me again, I am not sure what to do.

I know, I should just throw the sock in the Goodwill bag. I know you are probably rolling your eyes at me in whatever agnostic after-life you currently reside. But, as easy as it was for me to throw out almost every single sock I own, I simply couldn't bring myself to throw away your one lone sock.

It's silly, isn't it? But you see, unlike the ring of yours that weighs my hand down with your death every day, the sock is an innocuous reminder of your life. A left-over sock says, "I'm just disorganized so I've been away for awhile. But don't worry, I'm coming back. I need my sock."

I talked to you three weeks before you died, on your birthday. You were tentatively planning a trip to Canada, and I was trying to convince you that LA was a much better option for February. Which, duh, it totally is. "We'll go to Baja," I promised. "I've already been to Mexico," you protested. I forgot this at the time, but ... you've been to Canada as well. Did you forget? Remember the terrible New Years where you got stranded in Canada? You could have already crossed Canada off your list.

When we hung up, I was pretty sure that you had come around to visiting LA instead of Toronto or Quebec. I was looking forward to your visit, and looking forward to taking a day or two off work for our little mini-vacation.

But, you never ended up coming to visit. Instead, three weeks later, it was I who boarded a plane for Chicago. To see your fiance, your friends, your parents, your brother, but not to see you.

The day after the service, Honda and I went to your apartment, and ended up being the ones to bag up all your clothes for the Salvation Army. As I emptied out your drawers, I came across my bra of all things.

It was an old one, that I had handed down to you years ago. I'm pretty sure you never wore it. Frankly, I hope you never wore it, since at that point it would have been a ten year old bra. But you kept it, all the same, buried in your lingerie drawer.

I'm not sure what compelled you to keep that bra, my bra, through seven years and four moves. Maybe you were too lazy to sort through your stuff. Maybe you always thought, "Well, I *might* wear this bra if ... every other bra on the planet was killed in a nuclear explosion."

I can't really say. But I did get a kick out of finding my bra at the bottom of your drawer. Partly because, dude, that bra is OLD, how had you NOT thrown it OUT!, but also partly because it served as a tangible reminder of our bond. You're not really good friends with someone until you share bras, eh?

In any case, I would say, that no matter what reasons you had for not throwing out my bra, you're in no place to mock my inability to throw out your sock. So ... I'm keeping it.

I know you always dreamed of visiting Britain and Ireland. It was always next up on your docket, but work, love, and money always precluded you. But with me in town (ie a free place to stay, and a friend to hang with) there is no way you would have missed your opportunity. Knowing you, you would have bought your ticket for some ridiculous month like February, "Because it's cheap, and anyway London can't be any colder than Chicago," you would tell me. And you would have arrived, and it would have been insanely cold, but we would have trudged around regardless, through the tourist sites of London. And perhaps we would have taken a little weekend jaunt to Dublin, so you could see your "homeland," and it would have been windy, and awful, but you wouldn't care. You would drag me around town with waaaaaay too much energy, and we would have gotten drunk on Guiness and forgotten how cold it was anyway.

And so now I have a mad idea that I will take your sock along with me, in your stead. That I will take a weekend jaunt to Dublin, and that I will wear your sock, so that when my feet touch the ground in Ireland, it will be as if you are there, standing on the ground of your mother country.

What do you say?

I know, I know, you think I'm crazy. You are shaking your head at me with all the wisdom that you receive in your agnostic after-life.

It's a sock. A stupid, meaningless, nothing.

And yet, sometimes the expensive somethings can be discarded without care, while the most meaningless, stupid nothings are imbued with meaning. So please forgive my hopeless sentimentality.

But I miss you. I love you.

And I'm keeping the sock.

Ruchi