A tiny house, a farm and the good life. But are you really willing to commit?

Back to the land. Off the grid. Minimalism. Tiny living. Intrigued by any of those words and phrases?

Of course you are. In our modern, fast-paced world of consumerism, we have come to crave respite from our everyday routines, and in the bright age of all-you-could-ever-want media, lifestyle magazines and blogs give it to us.

Who hasn’t flipped through an issue of a magazine on green living with tips on urban farming and thought to themselves, “I want to grow my own food”? Who hasn’t watched a short video about a tiny house and thought to themselves, “I want to live like that”? Who hasn’t read an article on consumerism and thought to themselves, “it’s really time that I minimized”?

We’ve all done it, and we’ll continue to do it. This type of media fuels our aspirations. We all want to be eat and live better, be healthier and wiser, choose a path of intention rather than mindless consumption, so we keep reading, clicking and watching, and for a few brief moments we feel better about ourselves. We feel powerful. We feel in control of our lives. Yes, I too can choose to get rid of most of my wardrobe and commit to only seven articles of clothing!

But the danger lies in the fact that consuming this kind of media is a noncommittal act; few of us take the inspiration and turn it into action.

We are living in a moment where we need change. Actually, we needed it a long time ago, which means that the change we face now is going to have to be radical. We are going to have to live with less. We are going to have to grow some of our own food. We are going to have to change our consumption patterns. Advocating for simplified lifestyles is therefore essential; a reminder that such living is in fact perfectly normal and achievable, not just a fringe activity for the leftist nut jobs.

But the execution is more about glitz and glam than it is reality. I was recently reading a New Yorker profile about the woman behind the magazine Modern Farmer. I  love Modern Farmer. As an urbanite with a ridiculous craving to jump ship and move back to the countryside, it speaks to me. Yes, I want to learn more about goats! But I’d like to think that I am self-aware enough to realize the privilege that I have to read a few articles while drinking my mug of single-origin French press while waiting for my organic chocolate kale cake to bake in the oven. I don’t have to go and put my hands into the dirt, I have a CSA farmer for that. Does this make me enlightened or just full blown bobo?

A farmer told the New Yorker reporter that Modern Farmer was less farm magazine and more of “a fashion magazine for farming.” In fact, Ann Marie Gardner, the founder and editor, herself has described the magazine as “the farming magazine for media professionals.”

Fashion magazines have clothes we’ll never buy, car magazines have cars we’ll never drive, and architecture magazines have homes we’ll never live in. They’re aspirational. But we continue to consume them like starving pigs at a trough.

It’s like when you walk into the cookbook section of a bookstore, all those books with the beautiful pictures of the healthiest food alive. I will eat better! I will make more food! I will learn how to bake bread! But then real life gets in the way, and despite the amount of cooking media – be it print or on television – the hard to swallow reality is that we’re eating worse than ever, and it’s going to take more than just a new cold pressed juice bar to change that.

At their core, aspirations are a good thing; they are what push us to take action. But in a world of easy-to-consume media, we never get to the action part. We click, we share and we move on. I liken it to a friend who once made a comment about people sharing inspirational quotes online. A quote is only inspirational if it actually inspires you to do something. Simply passing it along doesn’t count.

We want to minimize. We want to grow our own food. We want to choose a life of intention. But the risk is that this desire is only skin deep. These lifestyles aren’t glamorous. At times, they’re downright hard. Just ask a farmer. Or someone that actually sold all of their belongings to live out of their van.

Do we aspire to take action or does our action simply go as far as a collection of well shot cabin and tiny house porn on a Pinterest board? My idealistic self would like to believe it’s the former. Because ultimately, we have to believe in change in order to make change. Maybe one day we will in fact have gotten rid of all of the McMansions, and when that day comes, we can surely celebrate.

In the meantime, we have to acknowledge that we’re romanticizing lifestyles while doing nothing to make them a reality. We don’t need to put the blame on the media; we need to put the blame on ourselves. The over glorification is all our own doing.

Sustainability is dirty work; it isn’t just buying a pair of 100 percent hemp yoga pants and carrying around a reusable water bottle. Read a book called “Getting Green Done” if you don’t believe me. We have to take real action, and we should have taken it yesterday.

Let’s not just obsess over these lifestyles, let’s start living them. Not everyone needs to drop everything and become a farmer, but we would do ourselves and our communities a favor if we started acknowledging how essential farmers, and growing food, truly are to our livelihood. We could live without Madison Avenue; we couldn’t live without carrots. Let’s build tiny houses, but not as a second or third home, or as a guest house out the back; lets build them as our only homes. Let’s have a life of less fashion and more substance.

And let’s acknowledge the true impact of our everyday lifestyles – what we eat and what we buy – so that we can start making real change.

Every day we have the chance to do better. It’s time to make sure that we’re not just talking about it, but that we’re actually doing it.

Related on EcoSalon

Minimalist Living: Our Problematic Obsession With Small Spaces

Tiny House Living Goes Waterfront: Think Houseboats

My Tiny House Adventure: Have I Lost My Mind?

Image: Tammy Strobel

The post So You Want to Live in a Tiny House and Be a Farmer? Our Obsession with Lifestyles Most of Us Will Never Commit To appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnFast fashion has ramped up the cycle of consumption to head spinning levels of (economic) efficiencies. Despite multinational corporations fueling boatloads of money into glossy marketing campaigns to keep us buying more, trends no longer represent an era of style and fashion, but one of profit. And now, the new trend is “conscious.”

Decades from now, when future generations look back on our times they will see profit was the trend. We can’t pinpoint a general style trend of the ’00s because the concept of fashion is so wrapped up in driving sales.

It wasn’t always that way. Looking back, fashionable style unraveled a rich history lesson. In all it’s grandeur, Style of the Decades was a lens to understand the zeitgeist of the times. The 1890s Gibson Girl, the 1920s rebellious flapper, the 1950s bourgeois housewife, the 1980s powersuit for work, and neon spandex for play — all allow us to sketch a silhouette and describe an era through fashion. Sure, we can certainly describe our era though fashion style, but today, instead of a silhouette, there would be a dollar sign.

Trends are tripping over themselves: Bell-bottoms to skinny jeans,  A-line dress to shift dress, above the ankle pant legs to palazzo pants, wedges to stilettos. The trend-mill of fashion is overwhelming, unfulfilling and has 99 problems — the overflowing closet being one.

What do we do with all this stuff? We put it in storage units. “There’s a lot of them. 2.35 billion — with a B — square feet in the United States, according to the Self Storage Association,” says Ira Glass in Act One of “This American Life: Contents Unknown.”

“That, in case you’re wondering, is 7.4 square feet of self storage for every man, woman, and child in this country, meaning all of us, all of us, could stand inside self storage at the same time.”

We are now surrounded with more stuff than ever before, but are undoubtedly less happy because of it. In the U.S., we spend three to four times more hours shopping than our counterparts in Europe do, says Annie Leonard of the Story of Stuff. Yet, we rank 17th in the World Happiness Report.

The newly published book, “Stuffocation” by James Wallman, closely examines the hard research and psychology on the ultra importance of why now we need to spend our money on experiences more than ever.

So if we know this stuff isn’t making us happier, why do we keep buying?

To understand we’ve got to look back. Throughout the 1950s, as consumerism began to run rampant, TV dinners, laundry machines and the hamburger swept the United States. The key to this wave of efficiency could not have changed family lives forever without the skilled help of the “Mad Men”; the men of advertising that oh-so-suavely sold us polished shit, and called it gold.

The psychology of advertising, both then and now, is so good it’s scary. Campaigns expertly poke and stroke our the deepest folds of our subconscious to sell us goods we don’t need. Just like over the decades we’ve slowly been sold the idea buying more clothes is better than buying well made clothes.

“No matter how contrary, rebellious or bloody-minded you are, it is a virtual impossibility to escape the constant, dedicated, ubiquitous onslaught of marketing, and the collective mindwarp it wreaks upon society, in subtle and pervasively corrupting ways.” says Olympian wordsmith and fiery writer Cintra Wilson. “The marketplace is now so devastatingly effective at turning our desires on and off that we virtually have no unpolluted pathways through which to experience love, sex, work, family, ambition, community, identity.”

Take Febreze for instance: During the first market testings of Febreze, nobody found a habitual continued use for the product. Procter & Gamble’s heads were spinning as to why this revolutionary product wasn’t of interest to consumers. How to get it to sell? They realizes they had to make Febreze part of the cleaning routine, and change people’s habits. So Febreze was advertised as the icing on the cake after you cleaned your house — the final touch, the cherry on top. It was a matter of leading the consumer in the right direction, to sell them the illusion of completion.

Now, sixty years since the peak era of “Mad Men”, the United States is trying to cling on to meaning again. On top of the skewed relationship between our happiness and accumulation of stuff, add on environmental degradation and climate change and we don’t know where to turn.

So, how are modern companies reacting to the dismay? The multinational corporations, fast fashion chains included, are soothing our frantic conflicted conscience with “conscious” products.

I can’t help but feel manipulated by H&M’s new Conscious Collection for hitting the soft spot of the emerging value-based customer. I found myself (a true anti-H&M-er) entertaining the idea I might buy a new pair of shoes from the new ‘conscious’ collection. WAKE UP. Its business is to play on our most subconscious desires. In this case — spend as little money as possible to look like you can afford better. Add on Miranda Kerr wearing a $4.95 T-shirt; the tattooed, toned David Beckman running in boxer briefs; and now the Conscious Collection, and you’ve whipped a pleasure sensory experience for everyone. H&M is capitalizing on the current atmosphere of the market to put itself ahead, and it is a great marketing strategy. But are its seven commitments enough? Do they address the systemic issues for fast fashion, or is it just a patchwork approach? I don’t think a fast fashion company like H&M can ever be sustainable.

Plus, H&M just took second place in Ethisphere’s Wold’s Most Ethical Companies for apparel in 2014! Do you agree?

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, right? And undoubtedly, our choices (our vote, our dollar, our decisions on where and how to shop) can affect directly thousands of people.

So what are companies like H&M’s modern solutions? Many are running conscious collections, yet still employing the same exploited workers to make the garments. Giving the buyers the illusion of providing them with greater values than are actually being given, and with little to no concrete social changes to their business structures.

I can hear the ad execs soothing me now:

You’re right darling, consumption is not helping us… the environment… or the poor people who put the crap together for no money or respect. But consumption is at the heart of America’s soul, isn’t it? So it’s easy, now shop over here, it’s made with a conscious.

Fast fashion wants us to keep buying clothes with the illusion that; a) new is better, and b) the new trends that spring up every two weeks are what you need to be cool, connected and authentic.

Let’s keep it real. If we know more things don’t make us happy, then DO something: Look into the tactical marketing campaigns of companies like H&M — are the seven commitments enough or is it just well-spoken lip-service?

Wilson said it best: “If you aren’t consciously using fashion to empower yourself, fashion is mostly likely using you to empower a brand.”

Keep in touch with Juliette on Twitter @spadesandsiLK

Related on Ecosalon:

7 Clues To Tell If Your Garment Is Really Sustainable: Eco Fashion Dissected

Popular Fast Fashion Brands Caught Selling Lead-Tainted Purses, Shoes and Accessories

Designers and Makers, This is for You: ‘Made in the USA’ Accelerator Program

image: pennuja

The post What is Really Behind Fast Fashion, ‘Mad Men’ Execs and the H&M Trend Craze? appeared first on EcoSalon.

In the face of both triumph and tragedy, fashion’s masked and intricate supply chain is becoming more transparent. So where is the industry headed in 2014?

I never ever dreamed I would find myself working in the fashion industry. But never say never right? And somewhere between scraping plates for food waste studies and being shoulder deep in a cow’s rumen for ecological restoration research, a lot changed.

Fashion was always an interest of mine, surely an influence from my Parisian mother and catty American high school upbringing, but I always saw the industry as vain–only meant for those that have too much time and money on their hands to care about anything else other than what they wore. For my future, I wanted to be part of something meaningful. So I turned my career efforts to the world of sustainable business. Yet eventually, my environmental blindness led me directly into a relationship I soon wouldn’t be able to untangle.

Unless you are a staunch nudist you consume fashion. As utopian as it might seem to some, few of us are nudists, and so it comes as no surprise that fashion stands as the third largest industry in the entire world, after only energy and food. And like the latter two, consumers want it cheap and fast.

But to churn out fast and cheap in a complicated global supply chain, means processes need to be slimmed, quality diminished and externalities bleeding out at all steps. For fashion, this manifests in thinner, less durable fabric, miniscule pay for workers and over-consumption by us. From growing and harvesting the fiber, to processing and dyeing the textiles, to designing, cutting and sewing the garment, endless resources–be it land or creativity–go into clothing. A lot more than a $5 price tag will ever tell you.

I recently heard ethical fashion pioneer, Elizabeth Cline, speak on her first eye opening experience, when she realized there was something amiss in the industry. In the introduction of her book, “Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion”, she remembers how she found herself in a Manhattan K-Mart buying seven pairs of the same shoes because they were marked down from $15 to $7. “What was so interesting about the psychology of that [moment],” says Cline, “is I owned more clothing than anything else, and I knew the least about it out of anything I buy. And I probably cared the least about it. I didn’t consider myself into fashion, yet I owned so much.”

We live in an era of conscious consumerism and yet at large a void still exits between an eco-lifestyle and the clothing we wear.

Our desire for cheap, fast clothing pushed manufacturing out of the United States fast and hard. The heartbreaking estimations that 80 percent of apparel manufacturing jobs were lost in the last twenty years is real and clearly seen in those communities with factories left. On top of the shift to overseas production for the race to the bottom dollar, cut throat, almost impossible deadlines place inhumane pressures on factory workers. So where do we go from here?

The word sustainability is thrown around a lot, and really turns some people off. And I don’t blame them. What is sustainability? No one really knows exactly what it is, or even if we can achieve it. But we know for certain what sustainability isn’t. Sustainability isn’t having more than we need. But how can we know when owning too much clothing is too much?

“Can we actually make sustainable clothing–I mean, really sustainable clothing?,” posed Rhett Godfrey, Sustainability Director of the progressive organic cotton clothing company Loomstate, at the Manufacture New York Sustainable Textile Summit this past November. “It’s one thing using dyes which don’t require water or saving energy or having fair trade and so forth. But at the and of the day are we being sustainable in terms of a systems-thinking, sustainability in term of true ecosystem–in terms of supporting peoples traditional skills and supporting cultures and communities.”

Appreciating the intricate and skilled process of making clothing is vital to make informed decision as wearers. It’s looking beyond a label or tactical marketing campaign. For example, looking beyond just buying organic cotton or made in the U.S.–although these are great clues to guide consumers on how to shop better–it’s a whole system approach, and not it’s individual parts. Aristotle and Wendell Berry know “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”

But there is no right or wrong way. Every designer and fashion house approaches the making process differently from the time an idea forms to the process of production. And it’s an ethical process we are seeking. It’s a spectrum of ethics and you need to decide yours to develop a more meaningful attachment to clothing again.

The heart of the issue is it’s about time we start building a fulfilling relationship again with our clothing. But can we really have a relationship with an inanimate object or is the relationship about the one with ourselves?

For all the tragedy which arose within the fashion industry in 2013, there was so much beauty that opened as well. 2013 saw some amazing steps for a more ethical fashion community. Like Nike’s Maker app geared toward designers that beautifully visualized the resource consumption of different textiles. Bib + Tuck, an online site to swap clothing. And Zady, an e-commerce platform dedicated to telling the story of the makers.

Fashion allows us to express our identity and put forth a sense of self. And through what I’ve seen, we are developing a new passion for clothing. Not one that is based on greed and vanity but one reflecting of values, quality and character–a new type of luxury. Clothing is damn hard to make and people are connecting with the beauty and craft of that process, just like we saw with food. “And that is what is so excited to me, clothing is amazing.. and the more you now about them, the more you know about how they are sourced, and the more fulfilling your relationship with them is,” says Cline.

What I had to realize about fashion, and where I think we are heading, is understanding the complexity of our clothing.

“It is about having personal relationships, it is about having transparency, and involvement of your supply chains,” says Godfrey.

So where is sustainable fashion heading in 2014? First, it is knowing there is no difference between sustainable fashion and fashion. In the end we are taking about clothing and expressing ourselves. Next, we are getting closer to a stronger relationship with the clothing we wear, and the story of how they are made.

Our loudest vote is our dollar. And 2014 will continue to shift the market as we put our money where our values lay. Nothing is perfect and everything is a process, but education is key to a brighter future. Ethical fashion champion Vivienne Westwood‘s words always ring in my mind “Buy Less. Buy Better. Make it Last.”

Here’s to 2014.

image: Juliette Donatelli

Related on Ecosalon

 4 Sustainable Fashion Films: The Power of Storytelling to Captivate and Convince

Between The Lines: From NYFW to the Garment Factories of Pakistan 

 Popular Fast Fashion Brands Caught Selling Lead-Tainted Purses, Shoes and Accessories

Keep in touch with Juliette on twitter @spadesandsilk

The post Where is Sustainable Fashion Headed in 2014? appeared first on EcoSalon.

What are “fashion haul” videos saying about today’s teenager’s attitude toward consumerism, and what’s on the other side of the spectrum.

In case you haven’t heard the term, “fashion hauling” refers to an internet phenomenon that has young (mostly) girls showing off their latest shopping finds to thousands of viewers in “haul videos” on YouTube. To be able to afford a constant stream of new stuff, haulers usually shop at fast fashion chains like Forever 21, H&M, Charlotte Russe and Target, or discount retailers like Marshalls, JC Penney or TJ Maxx.

Though this may seem like an innocent way for young girls to express themselves and share shopping finds with online peers, it’s becoming a serious issue because it promotes rampant, mindless consumerism. Haulers love fast fashion retailers because everything is cheap and they can afford a lot. They buy buy buy without putting any thought in how their clothing was made and where it comes from. If you consider the entire supply chain – from the raw materials and the labor required to the shipping and marketing – it is simply not possible to make a T-shirt that costs $7.

This video, a fashion haul by bodyrock.tv has over 3,6 million views on Youtube.

Fast fashion retailers, of course, do not want you to think about this stuff, they just want you to buy it. So naturally most of them have embraced the fashion hauling phenomenon with open arms, some of them even sponsoring popular haulers by offering gift cards, video contests and other incentives. Haulers seemingly live in a world where happiness can be bought, for a single-digit price tag at Forever 21, and everything is just “OMG, so cute!” To those of us far removed from it, these girls seem to be motivated by a desperate search for meaning.

The girls in this video, which has over 2 million views, just went on a serious shopping spree at Forever 21.

While it’s troubling to watch this trend develop and grow, there is also another side to the story. At the other end of the spectrum, many of today’s youth are distancing themselves entirely from the idea of ownership, looking for simplicity and alternative solutions to things they see not working in society. Instead of buying cars, they get Zipcar memberships, instead of buying CDs and DVDs they use Spotify, Hulu and other cloud-based streaming services, and instead of seeing the purchase of a home as the ultimate achievement they appreciate the freedom of renting. The less stuff you have, the more you stick it to the man.

This one has over 900,000 views and close to 12,000 comments.

Perhaps both of these extremes are reactions to coming of age in a time of economic uncertainty and political upheaval, but what does this polarization say about our society? And, more importantly, what effect will it have on the future of consumption? Does slow, considered fashion stand a chance against this escalating fashion hauling trend? Only time will tell, but perhaps it’s time to popularize “vintage hauling” or “stuff-I-already-have-in-my-closet hauling”?

Lead image, still from this video

The post Fashion Hauling and Today’s Teen Shopper appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnWhere celebrity becomes conscious.

The stock market is on a roller coaster, financial oligarch Warren Buffet is calling for all the other financial oligarchs to get real, and everyone has been holding their breath about Greece. Such are the times. We  would all do well to tighten our belts and remember that life isn’t about material things.

Unless you’re in a Hollywood movie, that is. Tinsel Town is notorious for glamorizing materialism and consumption. A movie shopping montage can look as all-American cool as James Dean slouched over in a leather jacket. Today, James would now be entirely represented by Ryan Gosling’s six-pack abs.

Films and sitcoms have long been guilty of bumping up the characters’ environs a tax bracket or two beyond realistic. But in the current economic climate (not to mention climate climate), some films are particularly jarring – a rather sad retrospective on a society that’s consumed itself like some mythical Greek tragedy. Or, cinema is about fantasy and we’re no fun. Only our closets and bank accounts can decide. Herewith, the seven most materialistic movies to date:

Sex and the City 2 (2010)

This sequel behaved exactly like a feral puppy holding our favorite adolescent book in its mouth – it shook and snarled and shattered our happy memories of a fantastic HBO series until all that was left were sloppy, spit-soaked scraps on the floorboards. For many, this is what happened when Sex and the City was first brought to the big screen in 2008. For almost all, the 2010 sequel was the final nail in their gold-plated coffin.

The plot of this movie entailed taking our favorite female Manhattanites, Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda, and propping them against miles and miles of Gucci, Dior, and Prada. Our gang eventually heads to Saudi Arabia, only to find they aren’t so welcome in Islamic culture. But not to worry, Saudi women are fine. Underneath their Hijabs and Abayas are just more Gucci, Dior, and Prada. Can we say ridiculous, racist, and radically offensive consumerism? Yes, we can.

Crazy Stupid Love (2011)

It’s no secret we love Ryan Gosling. Nonetheless, his latest movie didn’t even bother to keep consumerism in check. The plot runs something like this: Gosling helps the old guy become cool, get girls and get laid by buying clothes. Don’t worry; he’s got a trust fund! And did we mention that old guy’s ex-wife lives in a sprawling home that is totally unrealistic for a middle class Los Angeles family? Yes, it’s 2011 and we’re still making these sorts of movies.

Pretty Woman (1990)

Evidently, what makes a great antidote to a soul-shattered life filled with prostitution, murder, and drug use is shopping on Rodeo Drive! Just make sure your “heart of gold” charms your John into leaving you with a credit card you can thumb in the noses of snobby Beverly Hills salesgirls. We acknowledge that Edward and Vivian rode off into the sunset together at the end of the movie, happily in love. After all, isn’t selling your body for money romantic? (We prefer to be called realists.)

Marie Antoinette (2006)

Marie Antoinette is not exactly known in history for her socially-conscious contributions to society. So a flashy, updated biopic on her life shouldn’t be expected to read like a remake of Gandhi. However, Sofia Coppola’s ill-fated French queen was compared to a modern day Paris Hilton. What gave critics that idea? Possibly the miles and miles of film focused on shoes, couture, hairstyles and more. Was it all bad? The film boasts an incredible soundtrack (New Order, anyone?) and is gorgeously shot against Versailles itself. Consumerism is made hip, cool, and pretty – and ultimately, deadly.

Clueless (1995)

Is it ironic that a film about materialism stars one of the Hollywood’s green darlings? As if! Cher, played by vocal vegan and PETA pin-up Alicia Silverstone, shops her way around this update of Jane Austen’s Emma. Problems are solved if only the right outfit can be found. In the end, our Cher-Emma-Alicia finds true love with her socially-conscious step-brother. So maybe this was just art imitating an eventual reality for the lovely Ms. Silverstone.

Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009)

This film about a shopping addict who falls for a wealthy entrepreneur had the misfortune of debuting just after the dawn of the Great Recession. As one review wrote in 2009, “When P.J. Hogan’s out-of-step comedy was conceived, conspicuous consumption was the norm. Yet here we are, only nine months after the [first] Sex and the City movie and an obsessive spender with an overstuffed closet, and credit card bills to match, no longer seems quite so cute.”

The Devil Wears Prada (2006)

Set at Runway (aka Vogue) magazine, Anne Hathaway’s Andy Sachs finds her fight to the top is streamlined once she raids the hallowed halls of the magazine’s sample closet. We’re even treated to a montage of amazingly-styled outfits as Andy makes her way to work through the streets of New York City. (See? We’re not total shopping curmudgeons.)

But how did Andy justify the new wardrobe? There’s some lip service that she gets the clothes for free via Stanley Tucci’s benevolent godfather-style tutelage. But could a Conde Nast assistant ever afford such a wardrobe without a healthy bank account not possibly acquired solely as a Conde Nast assistant? Not likely. And did she really need it? Only in the minds of a Hollywood executive.

This is the latest installment in Katherine Butler’s column, Shade Grown Hollywood, where celebrity becomes conscious. “Shade grown” refers literally to shade grown coffee, a farming method that “incorporates principles of natural ecology to promote natural ecological relationships.” Shade Grown is our sustainable twist on Hollywood.

Image: zoonabar

The post Shade Grown Hollywood: Materialism at the Multiplex appeared first on EcoSalon.

QuoteDaily quotes at EcoSalon.

“We spend money we don’t have, on things we don’t need, to make impressions that don’t last, on people we don’t care about.”

– Tim Jackson

Image: “Shopping – Despair” David Blackwell

The post Shopping appeared first on EcoSalon.

Pretty images are like crack. I can’t look away. I can’t stop clicking on page after page, link after link, saving many of them to peek at later, surreptitiously, like something forbidden. The thing is, they kind of are. Because seeing all of these beautiful things on a daily basis – dresses, jewelry, lanterns, pillowcases, even stupid things like paperweights – make me want to collect. To spend. To accumulate. Groan. Am I once again buying things I don’t need?

I blame the internet.

For example, something wonderful arrived in my inbox yesterday: an invitation to join Pinterest. Not only is Pinterest a personal online ‘inspiration wall’, a place to digitally ‘pin up’ things you love, whether items of clothing, pretty hairstyles or simply images that strike a chord – it’s a feast for the eyes. A dangerous one. Take a look and tell me you don’t sigh and ooh and covet.

Having just recently joined Polyvore, the site that lets you arrange items from practically any store on the internet into lovely little ensembles, and inevitably falling into hour after hour (oh man, I really just revealed something about myself there, didn’t I?) of browsing the images created by others, I feel myself wanting. Me, a woman who just sold or donated three-quarters of her possessions to be free of the burden of too much stuff. A woman with a somewhat austere, carefully edited closet of matching items that can be worn in as many seasons as possible.

The last time I brutally culled a dozen blouses, skirts and dresses I told myself that from then on, each individual item I added to my wardrobe would have to earn its place.

But… look at that perfect little black dress… oh, and the way it’s complemented by those vintage mustard-yellow heels… and wouldn’t they both be set off to utter perfection by that eggplant wristlet? A simple pendant of rough violet-hued quartz on a long brass chain would pull it all together… Sigh. Just. Stop. Already.

And then there are all the other sources of sartorial temptation. My browser bookmarks are packed with blogs curated by enviably stylish people, like Kathleen and Hannah and Tamera (whose musings on digitally-induced desire inspired this post). Street style blogs like Lookbook.nu give me all sorts of ideas for possible additions to my closet.

It’s not just clothes. I have folder after folder on my Macbook of beautiful interiors, and get caught up in online shelter mags that make me want to get rid of everything I own and start from scratch with a newly acquired aesthetic that will change again in a few months, thanks to all of these pictures.

Help, I’m drowning in beauty, and I just clicked Add to Cart.

Of course, it’s possible to still feel this nagging sense of want without the internet. For centuries we have walked down main streets in cities all over the world and peered into store windows and wished or perhaps purchased. And we are surrounded by advertisements that are designed to provoke a lust for material things.

But the internet has opened up a whole new world of temptation. It exposes us to objects and styles that we might never have seen otherwise. And it makes it so damn easy to track those things down, to have them in a cardboard box on the doorstep within days.

Does this promote the problem of overconsumption, or pave the way for more considerate purchasing? It certainly has the curious effect of lowering that all-important number on my bank statements. There’s a reason I’ve become a clothes nazi: I’m planning to build and live in a tiny house (a plan that has been delayed but is nonetheless still on). Piles of possessions are out, edited is in.

The solution? Self-control, of course – which is not as easy as it sounds. In this digital age of imagery overload it’s easy to feel unfashionable. Plus, I work online all day, so the exposure never ends.

Temptation is tough. I will still save all of those pretty pictures, if only because I so enjoy looking at them, and because inspiration is a precious thing. But rather than treating it like a buffet of goods beckoning me to buy, buy, buy, I hope I can learn to value them more consciously.

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There’s something simple about Saturday mornings. The weekly formula that includes tea, NPR and a ride downtown to go to farmers’ market. The weekly morning excursion is a shopping experience cut down to the basic essentials: run through the mental list of what I need, track down the stand that sells it, take one walk around the stands just to people watch, and then get back on my bike and ride home. There’s no list required. Just a hassle-free and low stress outing that not only ensures that I eat well for the next few days, but also happens to be one of my favorite parts of the week. Unlike trekking the the grocery store, farmers’ market outings never feel like a chore.

But why? Is it just the fact that I’m assured organic, local produce, handed to me by the farmer that grew it? That certainly plays a role. But when I take time to think about it, it’s because I’m not overwhelmed. I know what I want, and I know where to get it. And if I don’t know what I want, I’m subject to an onslaught of flashy, shiny marketing to get me to buy a product. Broccoli is broccoli, apples are apples, and goat cheese is straight up, 100 percent goat cheese. No preservatives, no additives, no fancy packaging, just plain old regular food.

Fortune recently published a story giving an in-depth look at one of the hottest food stores of our time: Trader Joe’s. We all know how popular this California-based grocer has become, in fact its rise to fame is fascinating, but how many of us take time to think about why we like it? One of the reasons is the same reason that I’m personally drawn to farmers’ market: simplicity.

Your average grocery store carries 50,000 items, while Trader Joe’s only has 4,000. To the untrained eye, that looks like limited selection – something that our Western brains have been trained to avoid. In our consumer culture, we’ve long been taught that bigger is better. But our brains know better. “People are worried they’ll regret the choice they made,” Barry Schwartz, a Swarthmore professor and author of The Paradox of Choice, is quoted in the article. “People don’t want to feel they made a mistake.” Turns out that people have actually been proven to enjoy purchases more when there are less options to choose from.

Which brings us back to the foodie movement: size does matter, and in a world of conscious gourmands, less is more. Shopping at big-box stores might sound appealing because no matter what we need, it’s probably there, but ultimately this initial appeal is an illusion. Numerous choices are a byproduct of a system run by cheap fossil fuels. Want 10 kinds of rice noodles imported from Southeast Asia? No problem! In the mood for ice cream? Make sure you’re ready to choose from the multitude of options, many of which have ingredients whose number practically exceeds the number of pints in the store freezer.

Food shopping in the form of farmers’ markets, CSAs and other smaller, localized operations may “limit” what we’re able to put on the dinner table – you won’t be cooking up winter squash in May – but we know what we’re getting is healthy and our brains are happy that we avoid launching into a never-ending path of dinner options, which in turn actually isn’t so limiting after all.

In fact, it’s liberating.

Editor’s note: This is the latest installment of Anna Brones’s column at EcoSalon, Foodie Underground. Each week, Anna will be taking a look at something new and different that’s taking place in the underground food movement, from supper clubs to mini markets to culinary avant garde.

Image: iboy_daniel

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It seems, the bigger the store, the bigger the carts. SuperTarget, which has introduced fresh grocery products into its offerings, keeps us in the red with enormous carts to contain the bulk items we buy. Box stores know you will also pick up little extras in the aisles along the way, like electronics and kitchen tools. You didn’t even know you needed towels and sneakers until you saw you saw the sale sign and could stuff them in with the toilet paper.

Conversely, Whole Foods and many health food groceries offer the two-tier basket trolleys – developed in the late 1930s – as the best utility for shopping for your fresh items without having to carry the weight.

There is a good argument for sticking to the baskets when you can. Sure, the restriction can be tough when shopping with a baby or child and needing that cart seat, preparing for a party or shopping just one day a week or after a lull and the cupboard is bare.

But on a regular basis, a basket will help you contain your needs, buying less and with with more purpose. Think of yourself at a large buffet and what you could get on a salad plate versus a China platter. Those being mindful of what they consume usually opt for the salad plates. The same principle could aid grocery shopping, as well. That is why some stores, like Shaw’s in Boston, rolled out a large basket on wheels as the ideal compromise for shoppers.

Here are some other benefits of keeping that cart parked at the entrance to the store:

Spending less money

According to the Get Rich Slowly blog, ditching the cart (and even basket at times) is the best policy when shopping with the intention of picking up a few items, a loaf of bread, a container of milk, some fruit and dog good. This way you can avoid impulse purchases and end up saving money on stuff you can live without.

Wasting less food

We’ve learned from food guru Michael Pollan that Americans waste half of their food from failing to buy for one meal at a time – the way our Depression-era grandparents budgeted. EcoSalon food columnist, Vannessa Barrington, also sings the praises of buying fresh and local organic over bulk and to eat what you need in a couple of days, not stocking up for weeks at a time. Even if you are composting, which is better than tossing scraps, you still waste less food by buying small amounts  – which is easier to do without a cart.

Avoiding cart accidents

The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission finds some 24,000 children are injured in cart accidents every year, half from the seat in the cart, first introduced as a mother’s aid in 1954, and half from the cart itself (hands getting pinched, etc).  I equate cart driving to road driving, finding in my city by the bay that the bad drivers also are careless with carts, pushing them too fast around corners or hogging the lanes. When put at the helm, my 11-year-old tends to ram the cart into my feet, arguing “you aren’t supposed to stop when you are walking in front of me!!” Lesson: Leave the kids out of the seats, and only let them drive a basket.

Minimizing the waiting in long lines

It’s no coincidence that human cashiers are disappearing from discount grocery stores and replaced by self-check out stations – which we were first exposed to about seven years back. Not paying workers allows the corporations to reap as much profit as possible. Meantime, the lines continue to grow out of control, especially at box stores where carts are loaded up to the max. We pay a price for those discounts in the time we have to wait for service, and it is better to take charge of our consumerism by eliminating carts when possible. That way we can love rather than curse the store we have chosen when we are stuck in a big line and need to be somewhere else.

Images: J. Reed; Luanne BradleyWhole

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They’re convenient, cheap and widely perceived as necessary, but products such as frozen meals and bottled water can leave you cold when you think of the waste. We are spending way too much manufacturing products we either don’t need or shouldn’t buy, because of the damage they do or the ingredients they contain. An estimated 56% of all energy we produce in the U.S. is wasted during production and also chalked up to poor technology and design.

Here are a few to products to reconsider:

1. Bottled Water

According to the Pacific Institute, the production, packaging and delivering of a liter of bottled water consumes between 1,100 and 2,000 times more energy than treating and transporting the same amount of tap water. Scientists conducting the research found that making those plastic bottles alone worldwide uses 50 million barrels of oil annually – which could supply the total demand for oil in the U.S. for more than two days. Meeting the demand as a whole in the country requires energy equal to between 32 million and 54 million barrels of oil (and quenching needs worldwide is three times that amount). Most tap water is safe to drink unless you have health problems, according to the Natural Resources Defense Council.

2. Synthetic Fabrics

Producing clean organic Merino wool in New Zealand takes far less energy than the synthetic alternatives that are hugely popular in modern garments because of the cheaper factory assembly and retail price points.  According to the Merino Life Cycle Assessment project, yielding a kilogram of wool tops takes 46 megajoules (MJ) of energy which involves the farming and shearing of sheep, sorting, blending and scouring the wool and shipping the top (the ribbon of wool from the combing machine) to Shanghai. Meanwhile, synthetics from fossil fuels such as nylon sucks five times as much energy to make a similar fabric; acrylic takes 3.8 times as much energy and polyester 2.7 times as much.  Analysts also find cotton and viscose (from wood pulp) take more energy as well to be spun into fabrics. Cotton is closer to wool in terms of efficiency but it leaves a heavier footprint overall because it requires more water, fertilizer and pesticides to produce.

3. Short Lived Cell Phones

Yep, new styles are introduced all of the time and appeal strongly to text-addict teens drawn to colors, bells and whistles. The EPA tells us if we recycled the 130 million or cell phones tossed every year, we would have enough energy to power more than 24,000 homes annually. Currently, only 10% of the phones are recycled.  Making and processing of the phones pollutes air and water and adds greatly to greenhouse emissions, and for every one million recycled, we could recover an estimated 75 pounds of gold, 772 pounds of silver, 33 pounds of palladium, and 35, 274 pounds of copper.

4. Cardboard Moving Boxes

At a time when new, green alternatives are becoming widely available, you have to wonder why we’re still stuck on making single-use cardboard moving boxes which expend energy to make and waste shameful amounts to break down and recycle – hence the massive amounts of the boxes in our landfills. Making one ton of cardboard uses some 17 trees, 79 gallons of oil, 7,000 gallons of water and 42,00 kilowatts of energy. This is a case where plastic makes more sense as long as it is reusable and made from recycled materials – as with new reusable alternatives like Recopack and the Karmaboxx.

5. Frozen Foods

The frozen foods industry argues it is highly sustainable and buying frozen peas and whatnot means fewer trips to the market which saves on gas. But critics argue most of the foods are unhealthy (often high in sodium and fat calories) and the massive energy to make, box and ship the “convenience” foods to supermarkets is only the beginning. The real chill factor is the energy supermarkets waste with their refrigeration systems. Research shows markets spend more than 50% of their energy costs keeping food and drinks cold for us, a large percentage in open front or open top units to make products more attractive. Can we live without frozen, including the good stuff like Amy’s pizza? The truth is, the healthiest foods are fresh ones we make ourselves. True, steaming on the stove or slow cooking in a crockpot uses energy too, but nearly not as much as the frozen option, and you can store it in an Energy Star appliance in your own home.

Images: Hieropenen; Dospaz; Rich 115; Rutlo; Compujeremey; Shimmergreen.

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