Clothes Swap–a Roaring Success!

June 21st, 2009

As you know, I recently participated in a clothing swap at the Black Box Collective, which is in the West Central neighborhood, near the Parramore community, which also happens to be where I work.

I went to the clothes swap with the following:  Three pairs of jeans, a leather Kenneth Cole jacket that was a weird color and boxy and I never wore it, a polyester suit, two skirts, a tank top, and a dress.  I didn’t put all of it out on the pile, I don’t know why.  I wasn’t really ready to part with the dress and there wasn’t anyone else there that it would have suited, and I guess I jsut wasn’t ready to let it go.  One of the skirts in my bag I kept because I keep hoping I will find a top to wear with it, but I’ve had it fifteen years and worn it only once, so I probably should have passed it on.

I went there by myself, though, and I didn’t know anyone, so I felt conspicuous and didn’t want to be rifling around in my bag and then not putting stuff out on the tables, so I just put some stuff out and then didn’t go back into my bag.  Dumb, I know.  Anyhow, all told, I gave the leather jacket, the suit, and three pairs of pants.  I should have also put out one of the skirts and the tank top, but oh well.

It was a rally nice vibe they had going, there was an acoustic guitarist playing her own original music and singing, and I really liked both her voice and her music.  I don’t remember her name, so if anyone reading this knows her name, I’ll gladly give credit.  I’d make a crummy reporter, I guess.  Here’s a picture of her:

"All in favor of a new world, say I"

"All in favor of a new world, say I"

Yes, I know there is a lot of uninteresting background in the picture.  I need to learn more about cropping and editing photos, but I usually do it in Paint and I just can’t seem to make it happen this morning.  It’s like, rilly rilly giant, and I can’t crop out the part I want because even that doesn’t fit on the screen, and it won’t let me zoom out.  I might be retarded.  Nonetheless,  there was music and camaraderie.  I learned that they were planning on sending the leftover clothes to India, and since you know and I know that dumping excess textiles in poverty stricken areas is not always as helpful over the long term as we think it might be, I started asking around about who was in charge and had made this decision.  I got to meet a few nice people that way, including Sheena, who gave me props because my Daddy is a Union man.  While Sheena and I talked about how the problem of workers not being able to afford the products of their labor exists right here in this neighborhood (moreso even than the textile industry in India, for comparison), an apparently homeless man walked in off the street.  He rather nervously approached where we were standing and asked if all the clothes were girl clothes.  It felt good to direct him to where some men’s clothes were and convey a feeling of welcome.

I did some of my own browsing and scored a yellow message tee with a bird

embroidered on it that goes with my picnic shoes, a J Crew skirt for work, a short demin skit for kicking around in (that just so happens to be from Abercrombie and Fitch, no less), and this crazy plaid dress thing.  It will look awesome with tights and ankle boots this fall.yearwithoutshopping-0171

When I did get to talk to one of the organizers, Alex, she heard me out about how our overconsumption of textiles leads to the depression of prices for all textile related trades and industries, if not their outright destruction, in the places where our excess ends up.  She informed me that they had a specific contact in India to whom they were sending the clothes, but that shipping was pretty pricey and they only planned to ship a few boxes.  This is where I piped up with the needs of families right in that very community, some of whom I work with, that can’t always clothe their children the way they would like to.  The school I work in has a free clothes closet for kids to shop in, no questions asked, and I asked Alex if maybe I could have some of the leftovers.  She was super pleased because the Black Box Collective wants to participate in and be part of the community it’s housed in, and this is one way they can do that.

I agreed to meet Sheena the following day to bag up what I thought the kids could use and would like, and one of my co-workers met me there.  We spent an hour helping ourselves to the goods and also folding, bagging, and moving all the rest of it.  That day, I found a pair of grey skinny jeans with ankle zips, which was super awesome because I’d wanted some last fall and had been browsing the internet in search of the right ones.  So it was cool that I found some for FREE–well, I paid in labor.

All told, it was a super positive experience.  I met some great people, got some “new” clothes, and did a good deed for my kids.  I also talked to some activists about the effects of our voracious appetite for clothes and, in a sense, educated them a little about something they hadn’t considered.

Inventory: In Other Words, an Embarrassing Admission of Excess

April 22nd, 2009

How many pairs of pants does the average person, worldwide, own?  How many shirts?  You know everybody doesn’t even have one pair of shoes.  I just saw in a book in my son’s classroom a book about children from around the world (gotta love those DorlingKindersley photo books).  One page I flipped to featured some children from the Amazon river, um area…(I know that’s thousands of square miles of area.  That’s all I remember), and anyway this child and her sister had never owned a pair of shoes.  Never mind that that lived in a block house that looks like it could be in East Texas, but the child didn’t wear shoes and had the toes to prove it.  I digress:  recall that my point was that some people have little, others just what they need, still others far too much, and then there’s Richard Branson.  

My armoire, where jeans, sweaters, and handbags live

My armoire, where jeans, sweaters, and handbags live

My closet.  Eeek!

My closet. Eeek!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have 30 pairs of shoes.

I have 14 hangbags.

I have 17 dresses.

I have 18 pairs of jeans, and 22 pairs of pants besides (most of the pants and a few of the pairs of jeans are strictly for work, and one of the pairs of jeans are some ultra-high waisted Levi’s that were my mom’s in the ’70’s.  I do recycle–I have several pieces from my mom’s wayback wardrobe).

I have too many shirts to count, not counting a dozen shirts I only ever wear to work.  

I have six or more jackets. 

(And other people are cold).  

I have 14 sweaters.  One of which I justified buying by saying, “It will look good on me until I die, and it will still be in style!”

“Well honey, we’ll make sure and bury you in it!”

You might have to, actually.  The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.  Did you see all that stuff I have up there?  Do I, could I possibly, need more?

Do you ever get a new pair of shoes, and take the lid off the box at home, and just get a big, healthy whiff of the glue?  Those picnic shoes smelled like glue.  Can’t be good for the people who make them…

When was the last time you bought an article of clothing that was made in this country?  (Hipsters, you’re excused, ‘cause we know you have American Apparel where you live).

The clothes I buy aren’t made in this country, for the most part.  After I get tired of them, some make the long journey back across the world, and others end up in a landfill or piled up in a dead end thrift shop or basement.

Are we so fickle and wasteful that we throw away things that were made from, or at the expense of, the planet’s tenuously balanced remaining natural resources, and that we treat our laboring counterpart on the other side of the world as though his work is without value long before it s capacity is exhausted?  We do this for our amusement:  we consume as a hobby.  Maybe your thing isn’t clothes, but it’s well documented that Americans live in a disposable society.  Remember “The Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars”?  Planned obsolescence.

I’ve been collecting clothes that I truly appreciate for some time now.  About 80% of the garments I listed above are things I actually wear.  I think I have enough.  Let’s see if I actually need to purchase something.  I think we can guess what the answer will be.

That, however, doesn’t answer the question of whether I will want something badly enough to buy it even though that would be quite a disappointing failure.   What do you think?  

Also, if you think I have a lot of clothes, count some of your own things.  I think I’m pretty average, but then I don’t know that.  How many pairs of shoes or jeans do you have?

Next:  When do I shop?  When do you?