I am excited about trying new techniques to mend my clothing, in both invisible and visible ways. What remains to be seen is how welcome some of the results will be in professional settings. Even as a sustainability professional, I don’t often see colleagues wearing mended clothing, and I wonder if that is an intentional choice or the symptom of a pervasive business norm.
Most of our clothes today are made with plastic, which tends to be cheaper than natural materials but leads to pollution, climate change, negative health impacts, and more money spent in the long run compared to investing in quality garments and maintaining them. Unfortunately, many of us lack the necessary money, time, or requisite skills to opt for the more sustainable option.
The world’s oldest monotheistic religion, Zoroastrianism, influenced the others we’ve already covered in this series: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. However, with more of a focus on ethical behavior than prescribed actions, the guidelines of this ancient religion leave a lot of room for interpretation. “Everything in moderation” and religious tolerance went hand in hand with centuries of peace and prosperity in the Persian Empire.
As we enter July, it is once again time to examine our relationship with plastic (which permeates so much of our daily lives and this blog already). While it can be difficult to find alternatives to plastic, especially in food packaging, it is important to understand how some so-called alternatives can be harmful (or not really be alternatives at all).
We’re taught that recycling is a good thing, and doing it makes us feel responsible. In reality, there are serious limitations to recycling’s benefits when it comes to certain materials, especially plastics – even begging the question if new processes, such as “chemical recycling” are even possible. Unfortunately the plastic industry is banking on our trust, including when it comes to “recycling” fabrics.
Although I don’t buy a lot of stuff, I do accumulate it over time. Wanting to make the “right” decision when getting rid of it means a lot of analysis paralysis around my options. One option I thought made obvious sense with clothing donations was sending unwearable items to developing countries. In reality, that choice carries some economic drawbacks for the people I’m trying to help.
My mom’s clothes had been sitting in bags in my house for over a year, waiting for me to summon the motivation to sort through them… and do research on how to dispose of them responsibly. Clothes are such an integral part of our lives (and economies) that decisions about what to do with them once you have them are not so simple.
The final leg of my Climate Lab took me to Japan. I consider Japan the site of my environmental awakening, but there was still plenty to learn on this trip about impacts from the climate crisis and how to be an effective leader while centering the priorities of those facing the worst impacts. This jam-packed week was as fun as it was challenging.
Last year a friend told me he was very excited now that he knew he could take his hard-to-recycle plastic to our local recycling company. I bit my tongue, knowing that it was probably too good to be true. At best, those plastics would end up in a landfill, but I had also heard that chemical recycling might be even worse for the environment.
Knowing the health and climate risks of chemical recycling is one thing, but knowing how to change your own behavior to reduce those risks is another entirely. The plastics “recycling” process is opaque, but so is the process that gets our waste to the facility. This Plastic Free July, I took some time to learn more about where my own plastic waste goes.