| US: A World Consumed by Guilt , December 13th, 2007 |
Let us set aside the clichés about green fashion, ye cynical
Kermits, and presume that everyone is now on board with saving the
world by doing our holiday shopping at Barneys, where even the window
displays promote eco-friendly clothing.
Organic cotton, which has become trendy in recent years among eco-conscious consumers because it is grown without pesticides, still represents only a tiny fraction of the global cotton crop, about .02 percent, according to statistics provided by several agencies. But organic cotton is not always used in its pure state. The Department of Agriculture's standards do not regulate textile production once cotton has been harvested, so as a fabric it may be chemically treated, or printed with toxic dyes, and still be labeled as organic. Designers seem motivated to create products that live up to their personal convictions about socially responsible clothing. "Most brands endeavor to tell an honest story," said Savania Davies-Keiller, a designer for the fashion label DDCLAB, which sells clothes made from corn fiber. "But the brand is reliant on the mill and on the manufacturer of the raw goods. You, as the end consumer, are reliant on the honesty of your brand." And there are still other factors for the concerned consumer to consider. Clothes that are assembled in factories far from the mills that produced the fabrics and the stores that sell the finished products leave carbon footprints in their journey around the world. Mr. Van Dyke's company uses recycled polyester in its performance outerwear. The fabric is made from used soda bottles and polyester uniforms gathered in the United States and shipped to Japan for processing. The clothes are then made in China and distributed in the United States. "All of this is a trade-off," Mr. Van Dyke said. "We're still moving products around the world, but on balance we view that as a more environmentally responsible solution than using more oil-based fabrics." There is a grass-roots movement for clothes avoid the fabric complications in that they are made only from old clothes. Collections like Urban Renewal at Urban Outfitters and Project Alabama recycle scraps of used clothing to make new designs. Alternatives also exist for consumers who remain skeptical about jewelry marketed as "conflict free" or "fair trade," terms meant to indicate that workers in underdeveloped countries were not exploited. Such designs include gold recycled from scrap. Melissa Joy Manning designs earrings and necklaces with flying fox claws and wild dog teeth that are naturally shed, and Monique Péan's collection includes bracelets made with fossilized ivory from ancient walruses and woolly mammoths. But are they really green'? Perhaps not in the way you expect. Ms. Péan purchases the ivory from subsistence hunters slightly north of the Bering Strait in Shishmaref, Alaska, where rising temperatures have caused the sea ice to erode and threatened the village. She said that 10 percent of her profits will be donated to the Alaskan Native Arts Foundation and that she has contributed about $20,000, but her main objective was to raise awareness of the human impact of climate change. "You hear so much about green and the environment," she said. "But you don't often hear about the people and some of the issues they are facing right now." You don't often hear the whole story at all. In its green holiday catalog, Barneys promotes a $7,600 dress by the rising London designer Duro Olowu as being made from a patchwork of "recycled fabric." Not to split hairs, but Mr. Olowu said in an interview that the fabrics had not come from previously used clothing. They were made of a mix of his own prints and some original, unused samples of leftover couture textiles he found. "It's not recycling," he said. "It's reclaiming and sustaining what already exists." Some argue that the greenest clothes - the ones least likely to adversely affect the earth and its climate - are the ones you already own. No new resources will be depleted to make them, and if they need infrequent washing and can be drip-dried, all the better. A review of my own closet - after clearing away the detritus of 100 plastic dry-cleaning bags - suggests I may be one of the least green people on the planet, perhaps personally responsible for the dust cloud looming over China as a result of over-grazing of Mongolian goats. About the only thing that could be considered green is a 17-year-old high school sweatshirt that still fits. But I routinely machine wash it in hot water and dry it on high heat so it remains as soft and cuddly as possible. So what can an unreformed consumer do in the face of green fashion that doesn't always fit? "Perfect doesn't
exist and we're probably never going to get there," said Leslie
Hoffman, the executive director of Earth Pledge, a nonprofit group
that promotes sustainable development and technologies. "We all make
compromises every day. Making them with your eyes open instead of
arbitrarily is the best piece of advice I could give."
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