If you know me, you know that I hate shoe shopping. Generally that approach saves me money because I buy fewer shoes in the long run. However, when I do buy them, I want to get something that will last a long time. I also want something that supports my values as well as my feet. As with any investment, I didn’t make this decision lightly.
I recently heard that the recycler near my house was accepting plastics #1 through #7, and I was incredibly skeptical. Plastics are difficult and expensive to recycle, which is why they almost exclusively become trash, winding up in the landfill, the incinerator, or the ocean. While this new program isn’t recycling the plastic, it is repurposing them for the time being.
I’m off to a terrible start with Plastic Free July, since we’ve been out to eat three days in a row. Because of COVID, there is still a lot of single-use plastic in circulation. Our collective need for single-use plastic creates a lot of waste, but it also creates a lot of demand for the component materials, one of which is natural gas.
Some of my most controversial, infamous, and still-talked-about Facebook posts of all time involve something that seems to draw opinions from even the most reserved people I know: expiration dates. Many people believe that the “sell by” or “best by” dates stamped on food are the end-all, be-all, definitive line between “safe” and “not safe” for food, and in almost every case that is not accurate.
Between land use impacts, methane produced by animals, animal feed, and the processing of animal carcasses, there is a significant impact from meat and dairy products, as compared to vegetables. However, all foods pack a punch in the carbon footprint arena when it comes down to the energy required to grow or preserve foods out of season, or when we don’t use what we buy.
When making responsible purchases, it’s easier to factor in things we can see (e.g. packaging) over things we can’t, such as farming practices, cold storage, and transportation footprint. In doing research for this series, I’ve been learning how my own choices with respect to food purchases, while well-intentioned, were grossly misinformed, and how some choices count for a lot more than others.
The vast majority of our clothes contain synthetic materials, i.e. plastics. If reducing plastic waste is your goal, limiting clothing containing synthetic fibers should be among your priorities. As with plastic materials in other parts of our lives, our approach with synthetic clothing should be (first) Reduce, (then) Reuse, and (last) recycle. This final post on Plastic-Free July suggests some options for responsible clothes shopping.
Since doing Zero-Waste Lent almost a year and a half ago, I haven’t bought many clothes – mainly because I was shocked to learn how resource intensive fabric production is. We wear a lot of plastics, and microplastic fibers from our synthetic clothes into our waterways, oceans, and our food. This week we examine eco-friendly alternatives when it comes to fabrics.
In an attempt to limit my personal demand for plastics and keep those items out of the waste stream, I’ve cut back on takeout and delivery food as much as possible. Now that I’m cooking more, I’ve tried to turn first to what we’ve already got stashed in the back of the cupboards before shopping – and that has been an eye-opening experience.
Back in the Before Times when I could buy in bulk with my own containers or use reusable mugs at coffee shops, zero-waste challenges were a comparative piece of cake. Plastic-Free July is just one of many things that has been made harder by the presence of the novel coronavirus. Here are some of the decisions I’ve made that take health and waste into account.