A Letter to the Editor: Alternative Avenues for Development in East Africa
The following is a letter to the editor I wrote and submitted on October, 18th 2017.
To the Editor:
Kimiko de Freytas-Tamura highlights a key issue at the crux of the fast fashion crisis, excessive textile waste, but brushes over the environmental impacts of this ever increasing problem. Ironically, the garment manufacturing industry that these East African countries so desperately want to establish is the very cause of the waves of unwanted clothing arriving at their doorstep.
The booming fast fashion industry has pushed garment production into hyperdrive with little consideration for the end of product life-cycle. East Africa’s answer to the pitfalls of globalization should not be to follow the well trodden path of low cost manufacturing, but to monetize the clothing others see as waste by investing in textile recycling. How can East African countries capitalize on the growing trend of shifting the fashion business model from “take, make, waste” to “cradle to cradle”? The unrelenting consumer appetite for new trends and cheap clothing is unlikely to subside in the near future, and with major clothing brands like H&M, and Uniqlo implementing recycling programs, this is a growing market and an opportunity for development.
Sincerely,
Camille Mori
What do you think? Do you agree? I would love to hear from you, feel free to leave a comment.
The Best of the Bushwick Thrift Store Scene – A Farewell to the Neighborhood
I apologize for the silence, and promise it won’t be a trend throughout graduate school. This first month has been a perfect storm of adjusting to graduate school life, marathon training, seeing friends and family, and moving. I have to admit though, it’s been exciting to have new challenges and to be busy again.
As I begin this new chapter, I’m starting fresh in a new neighborhood as of this weekend. Which means a bittersweet goodbye to Bushwick, and hello to Prospect Park South.
Bushwick will always remind me of ethical fashion start-up madness, the buzz of being around creative energy, and of course, thrift shopping. As an ode to my old neighborhood, I thought I’d compile a “best of” list of vintage and thrift stores nearby. It’ll be strange to live in a neighborhood without a mobile vintage shop, but I guess my new neighborhood will have it’s own charm.
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Collections
Best Window Displays
This cute little vintage shop draws you in with their $12 rack outside, and their staff is always smiling and willing to help. The pieces I love tend to be a bit out of my price range, but she does a great job at curating her collection and has truly unique vintage finds.
I would come here if you’re looking for a special occasion or to make a dramatic statement with a one of a kind vintage piece.
I’ve got to say though, the window displays and good vibes drew me in countless times, but I never really found anything that I loved there. But I think it has more to do with a difference in style than their selection. It’s a small space and doesn’t really allow the space for exploration.
Their instagram is fun to follow, you should check it out 🙂
Location: 16 Wilson Ave
Beacon’s Closet
Best Value
By far my most frequented thrift shop in the area. You have to dig quite a bit to find the good stuff, but that’s what I enjoy about thrift shopping. It’s like a treasure hunt. You have to have patience and know how to spot good quality when you’re at Beacon’s closet.
What blows my mind about this place is that you can have a pair of Brother Vellies sandals next to a pair of Zara loafers, you really never know what you’ll find. If you don’t look hard enough, you might miss it.
I got in the habit of wandering through once or twice a week to glance through the merchandise and see if there was anything new. If I was looking for a pair of black loafers I’d go in and look at the shoes almost every day to see if anything new was out.
With the store on my walk back from the subway, I practiced a lot of self restraint, only allowing myself to buy pieces that I already identified as a necessity before entering. I think it’s good practice in general and keeps you from having an out of control wardrobe or just helps with keeping on my shopping budget.
One of the biggest cons is that the staff is extremely rude. I love searching for and finding great pieces at the store, but I do my best to avoid interacting with anyone working here.
Location: 23 Bogart St.
Urban Jungle (Part of L Train Vintage)
Best for Basics
I almost always feel overwhelmed as soon as I step foot in this place. The shear amount of volume is a lot to take in. Unfortunately there’s very little in this store that works in my closet. Although, I did find one of my favorite jean skirts here, it’s a great place for denim and t-shirts. I also got a coat that I refurbished, and is a good basic.
Urban Jungle has a lot of 90s dresses, vintage fur and simple denim and t-shirts. Want to find a cheap aloha shirt? Go to Urban Jungle. I feel like this place is great for costumes, because the prices are so low and I wouldn’t mind destroying a shirt I got there to alter it for a one time outfit.
Location: 120 Knickerbocker Ave
Friends NYC
Best Store
One of my favorite stores in Bushwick. Their vintage section is small but I always love their pieces and have bought several items from them. On a side note, their regular clothing merchandising is pretty good too, and includes some sustainable brands. I have a fun fair trade block printed cover up from them.
What is so great about Friends NYC is that I feel at ease when I enter, once you walk in the staff is friendly and willing to help. It reminds me a lot of the stores I loved in Shimokitazawa as a kid, with a fun mash up of cool clothes, gift cards, books, jewelry and other fun novelty items.
Location: 56 Bogart St
Worship
Best Unique Finds
I barely made is up to this vintage spot, but when I did I never regretted it. It was a bit higher price point than Beacon’s Closet, but I loved the pieces and the quality. Instead of searching through racks and racks I’d go through one rack and find 10 pieces I loved.
Since I only went there a handful of times I don’t have too much to say about it, except that if they were closer or more convenient I would have spent way too much money.
Location: 117 Wilson Ave
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Good bye Bushwick! This isn’t the last you’ll see of me, I’m sure the lure of amazing thrift shops will always draw me back.
Elements of a Textile – Who Are the People Behind the Fabric?
#HawaiiFiberProject Part IV – Textiles
Do you see the people behind the fabric you wear? Traditionally weaving textiles for clothing, blankets and rugs was done artfully and carefully by women. Children grew up watching their mothers and grandmothers spinning yarn and weaving intricate designs in the home. As our societies have changed, these traditions have slowly left our households and have become a far away industry in developing countries. An industry in which many laborers are exploited and suffer harmful working conditions. Something that was once globally ingrained as a part of our everyday cultural heritage has shifted to big garment industries in economically struggling countries eager for work. There are still small pockets of artisan made textiles and fiber artists, but our visceral connection to textiles has been more or less lost.
In this post I want to bring the textile back to life, and look at the human lives touched along the way. From harvesting and gathering materials to weaving the fabric, there are many hands in the process before the textiles even enter a garment factory or design studio. During the #HawaiiFiberProject, I researched every step of the supply chain for natural materials. The process for creating textiles would be similar for synthetic materials except for steps one and two (spinning and harvesting), and leathers and furs deserve a whole dedicated post, which I’ll put out another time. For the purpose of this project and showing the many layers and people involved, I stuck with wools and plant based materials.
I’ll walk you through each step, harvesting and gathering, spinning, weaving, dyeing and finishing. As we go, imagine the men, women and children around the world that work to make these textile take shape. To take a peek into the lives of those constructing clothing, you can learn more in the Fashion Revolution’s Garment Diaries series, where they researched the day to day lives of garment workers in Cambodia, Bangladesh and India. Textile mills and dye houses exist in these countries as well and this valuable research provides a snapshot of what their lives may be like as well.
Step 1 – Harvesting and Gathering
For each fiber this will vary slightly. In my project I looked at three different fibers, pineapple, waste materials, and locally grown wool. You can check out my post on pineapple fibers to learn more about the process of stripping the leaves and extracting the fibers. For the waste fabric I cut strips of waste materials that my mom had saved, it took several hours to cut up enough fabric for one tote bag. The locally grown wool is by far the most labor intensive fiber in this group. First the sheep need to be sheared, then the wool needs to be washed and carded until it’s ready for spinning.
This stage of textiles is often overlooked but it has a huge impact. Cotton, for example, requires a lot of water to grow, making it a controversial sustainable fiber. There are vast differences in the treatment of sheep between locally grown wool and mass produced wool. Oftentimes breaking down plant fibers is extremely labor intensive and requires a lot of difficult manual labor. With every fiber there are different concerns. I would encourage you to research the fibers in your clothing and thoroughly understand the process of growing and harvesting the fibers. Is there a history of forced child labor? How do pesticides affect the workers? Are the animals treated well?
Step 2 – Spinning
This stage is a bit simpler, and nowadays would mostly be done by machine. The biggest concerns I would have are in regards to labor conditions and working with the machines. Are the machines safe? And are the workers treated fairly?
Traditionally, hand spinning was done in the home and is still practiced as a fiber art. You can still find artisan made, hand knit or hand loomed products made with hand spun yarn, but since this is so time intensive, these products are a luxury item.
While in Hawaii I got to learn to spin with the Hawaii Handweavers’ Hui at the Hilo public library. It was fun to chat with the members and hear what they planned to do with their yarn. I was also excited to see three young girls learning to spin, loved to see that the younger generation had an interest in the craft. I have to say, it takes a lot of patience to get an even and fine thread. I didn’t quite get the technique down, but it was almost mesmerizing to keep the thread consistent. It seems like it could be useful as a meditative practice.
Step 3: Weaving
Weaving, like spinning, has been mechanized for large scale production. The introduction of the power loom in the late 1700’s revolutionized the textile industry and has led to the high tech industrial looms of today. In this stage the fiber is transformed into usable fabric, and depending on the type of weaving, this stage can determine the end use for the textile. For example a cotton can be woven into a heavy weight denim or a thinner cotton thread can be used to create a lightweight lawn fabric. Each type of textile would be used for completely difference products.
There are different levels of mechanized looms and since hand loomed products are very popular, some of the easier to use looms are used to make artisan products. Since these artisan made products can be sold at a higher price point, this allows women in rural areas use their cultural heritage to make textiles and get paid fair wages. There are also those who still use the original rustic looms of their ancestors to create truly stunning works of art, further increasing the value and earning potential.
Although both spinning and weaving have largely been mechanized, people still run these machines. The human element is not removed by the introduction of high powered machines, just lessened to some degree. The introduction of big machines can bring up new concerns, such as safety precautions.
Step 4: Dyeing and Finishing
Sometimes the dyeing process happens before weaving depending on the textile being created or the process at the mill, but it can be done after the textile has been woven as well. Dye houses work in batches, and it’s important to use fabric from the same dye lot for each production run. The fashion industry tends to identify colors via pantone numbers in an attempt to get everyone on the same page, but even though the dye house uses the same dye and same process, different dye lots can produce slightly different shades.
When working with factories overseas, they are often in charge of confirming colors and will usually provide swatches from different dye lots to ask for preference. As a production manager in the America you may have little to no interaction with the dye houses and textile mills. Many overseas factories handle the sourcing, dyeing and finishing, which means this part of the supply chain is left unseen.
Like I mentioned in my last post, dyeing is extremely water intensive, and depending on the dye, can be very harmful to those working in the factories and those living in nearby communities. What is the global environmental impact of using so much water? How can these communities recover from being exposed to toxic chemicals from dye run-off?
The last stage of a textile is finishing. This includes chemical washes to decrease flammability (which is mandatory for children’s clothing), mechanical shrinking, water resisting treatments and an array of techniques for altering fibers for better hand feel. Finishing has similar concerns to dyeing, water waste and chemical run-off. This part of the process can be virtually unseen in the finished product, but can be necessary for selling in any major retail store. For example chemical washes to decrease flammability are mandatory for all children’s wear. Is it good to expose workers and the children wearing the clothes to these chemicals?
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This all happens before a garment worker gets a hold of the fabric to start sewing the product, and I’m afraid it’s the most overlooked part of the garment industry. Granted, it can be challenging to find information on these stages of textile creation, many companies are not forthcoming about these processes. It never hurts to ask questions and express concern, consumer behavior can drive serious change in an industry.
Today, on Labor Day, I thought it was important to call attention to those workers around the world who contribute to the products we wear daily and who are overlooked and often unseen. Labor Day is traditionally about the social and economic achievements of American labor workers, but I think it’s also our responsibility to be aware of the laborers abroad who make our American consumed products. Who are the workers behind the goods that we buy at Labor Day sales? And what is our responsibility to them? Should we be fighting for their rights and safety in the work place? I think the answer is yes.
Dyeing with Avocado and Indigo – Looking at Water Waste in the Dye Process
#HawaiiFiberProject Part III – Natural Dyes
Natural dyes aren’t always the practical choice, but they are certainly an art form. Getting the right combinations and knowing how the dyes will react with fabrics, mordents, and weather is an extensive learning process. Due to the complexities in process and inconsistencies in color, natural dyeing may not be the answer for large scale fashion to become sustainable. To reverse the harm done by this part of the garment industry, we need innovative technologies in dye processes and textile production to address the water waste and chemical pollution caused by modern dye houses. By looking closely at artisanal methods of dyeing, I hope to spark curiosity in finding better solutions. Are there ways to infuse color without wasting water? What about growing materials to have a natural color without dyeing?
Unlike the previous parts of the #HawaiiFiberProject (sakiori weaving and making pineapple fibers) I’m not a novice in natural dyeing. Besides growing up dyeing with Japanese indigo with my Mom and conducting research projects in middle school on how mordents and fabrics impact the dye color, I’ve also taken a natural dyeing course at the Fashion Institute of Technology with Liz Spencer (the founder of The Dogwood Dyer) as part of the Sustainable Fashion Entrepreneurship Certificate.
This project got me daydreaming and I started thinking, Why don’t I start a dye garden?? Then I snapped back to reality when I remembered that I’m starting a challenging graduate program at NYU, training for the NYC Marathon, and promised myself to consistently write for this blog. Unfortunately I just don’t have the time, but maybe one day. During my time back home in Hawai’i, I did have a chance to experiment with wild indigo and avocado pits. Two materials I have never dyed with before, and two materials you can find growing in Hawai’i.
The Process
I scoured the Waimea nature trail for wild indigo, having only seen pictures on the internet, but didn’t see anything quite right. At least, I didn’t see anything that matched the pictures I saw with enough certainty to merit hurting and picking the plant. I returned with my Mom a couple days later to try again. We were about to give up when we spotted a plant near the end of the trail. There were only a few plants here and there, not the big bushes that they can grow into. We picked what we could get, and hoped it would be enough to dye one tank top.
After gathering the leaves (and a few seed pods to try and plant later) we got home and immediately prepared the dye bath. With wild indigo, the leaves must be used fresh, otherwise they won’t be effective. We took all the leaves off the stems and tied them up in an old stocking, then left the leaves to soak in water overnight.
Avocado pits were easier to come by. After gathering a couple from the neighborhood, we supplemented them with a few store bought ones, there were eight pits in total.
Now that I had cleaned my eight avocado pits and let my indigo leaves soak overnight, it was time to start dyeing. I went to the local thrift shop at St. James Church and got two tops, one 100% silk tank and one 100% cotton t-shirt. I found another silk top to throw in the mix when I got home. First, I soaked the tops in water with a bit of soap and rinsed them out.
In the meantime I prepared the avocado dye, boiling the pits along with some of the rinds for a little over an hour. After letting the dye pot cool and steep for about another hour I placed the cotton t-shirt inside. I thought this would only take about 10-15 minutes, but I ended up leaving the shirt in the dye bath for several hours hoping the color would get stronger. Ultimately the shirt came out a very light pink, not what I was hoping for, but still nice.
For the indigo tops I submerged them in the dye bath several times for 15 minutes at a time, letting the shirt oxidize in between. I love the pale blue that came out of the wild indigo, it ended up being stronger than I had anticipated, so that was a nice surprise. I tried dying one piece in the indigo and then in the avocado, hoping for a purple color. The color ended up being a light green instead of purple. The original shirt had a yellow tinge and the light indigo color made it green, unfortunately the avocado had little to no effect.
It was exciting to wake up and see how the shirts dried the next day to view the colors in the natural sunlight. I’m happy with the result, even though the colors didn’t all come out as vibrant as I had hoped for. If anything, it makes me want to try again with different combinations. Maybe I needed more avocado pits? What if I had tried using a mordent?
The Takeaway
It’s a rush to take something from nature, and through a few steps, revive an old garment with a new color. Like the other parts of the #HawaiiFiberProject, natural dying can be extremely time intensive. From foraging for the materials, preparing the dye bath, and the actual dye process itself, this project took me two full days. If I had done any special techniques like resist dyeing or shibori, it could have taken at least one more day. I also didn’t use any mordents in my dye process, which would add a level of complexity. Yet, because I didn’t use mordents I’m a little worried about the color fastness of the dyes. Fast fashion uses a host of synthetic dyes that are made to stay colorfast, withstand multiple washings and high heat. All these qualities come at a price though, these dyes tend to contain carcinogens that enter the waterways if left untreated, causing harm to the communities nearby.
It’s not unheard of for companies to use natural dyes in their products, but it takes a dedicated and understanding consumer for this to be successful. Natural dyes lose their vibrancy over time and require special care, something many customers have no patience for. It’s also important to question if natural dyeing is truly sustainable on a large scale. Are there better options? Maybe for smaller boutique brands, natural dyes are a viable option. But what about on a large scale? Most of todays clothing is not made in small batches, is there a way to fit sustainable dyeing practices into large scale production?
Leaders in the fashion industry are starting to emerge with answers to these problems, with reduced water dyeing, or entirely waterless dye processes. Levi’s did a study to pinpoint the best ways to incorporate sustainability along their supply chain, and concluded that the dye process was an area they wanted to focus on. Their Water<less denim line emerged from this research and is committed to using less water in the dye process. Nike and Adidas are cautiously supporting waterless dye technology, with cost being a major barrier. Either the consumer needs to demand these products, or there needs to be breakthroughs in technology to make this a cheaper endeavor. Consumer demand tends to drive innovation and new technology, if there’s money to be made off of it, they will make it.
By cleaning up this area of the garment industry, this would drastically change the game for sustainable fashion. I hope it’s something that people start to think about more when they purchase a new piece of clothing. If a shirt was dyed and finished with harmful chemicals, what does it mean if that shirt is now rubbing against your skin? Is there any impact? And if there is, should we be concerned? My instincts are telling me that we should be.
Learning Sakiori Weaving – A Look at Waste in the Fashion Industry
#HawaiiFiberProject Part II – Waste
Scraps, leftovers, rags, used clothes, our society trains us to see these as dirty, disgusting and unsuitable for new designs. Before moving to NYC I had an upcycling brand, mostly denim, but also painted tanks and one of a kind pieces. Selling my products at events I was like a broken record, telling people that the clothes were used but not dirty, repeating over and over again “yes, they’ve been washed”. This stigma is deeply rooted in our culture, but with recent advances in recycling materials and innovative design, a lot of progress has been made. Not to mention, sustainable fashion is becoming more mainstream and it’s losing the association with being a crunchy granola phenomenon. In Part II of the #HawaiiFiberProject, I take a deeper look into waste in the fashion industry and learn traditional Japanese rag weaving.
The Project
To bring attention to waste in the fashion industry, I was determined to make something completely out of scraps, and rags. I tapped my Mom’s weaving knowledge and settled on making a sakiori tote. Hours were spent cutting scrap fabric for the tote bag from garments that would otherwise be thrown in the back of a wardrobe or tossed in the garbage. Most households don’t have a closet full of scraps for projects like this, thankfully my Mom saves everything. It was like looking through an archive of moments in my life, I found jeans from summer camp, leftover fabric from the dress my mom made me for a father daughter dance, and beautiful vintage kimono. Settling on all black pieces of varying fabrics, I chose a blazer (using both it’s lining and body fabric) and a pair of cotton spandex pants for my weft.
After finding a tote with dimensions I liked, I eyeballed the size and used it as a template for my project, it was all done free hand. Back in 2011 when I lived in Japan for a year while pursuing my MA in Religion, I used to frequent fabric stores and buy yards of fabric that were unique, sometimes making up my own patterns for dresses and skirts. Sewing a garment from a store bought pattern always felt rigid to me, I’ve never been great at following directions. Creating my own patterns meant everything fit me perfectly, and I could make tweaks that suited my own aesthetic vision.
I used this method when creating the sakiori tote bag too, and I sewed everything by hand because it made more sense to me. Adding a pocket inside for convenience and taking some fabric from the blazer I cut up for the handles, everything came together piece by piece. I might be biased, but I think the outcome looks pretty good. Hopefully the used textiles don’t make it look like low quality work or dirty fabric. Granted I made some mistakes, the lining is a bit small and I should have made the bag a couple inches longer to fit my laptop better. I’ll probably add some type of closure at the top since it opens up too easily. All that considered though, I’m happy with it, and I’m proud to own something that I made completely from waste materials, and made completely by hand.
The Takeaway
It would be an interesting exercise to challenge everyone in a America to make something completely from scratch, to see the time and thought that goes into it. Asking them to make it out of recycled materials would be even more fun. I spent almost a solid week and a half to make my sakiori tote bag, and I even cheated a little with the warp threads, they just happened to be available in my Mom’s weaving studio. Processing the pineapple fibers took a couple days, cutting up the waste fabric took about a day, setting up the loom was two days, weaving the textile was three days, sewing the bag was another three days, all in all that’s 12 days. Granted, a more experienced weaver and seamstress would be faster, my guess is that it would take a week. This exercise sure worked on me. I will never throw away this bag. I will repair or repurpose it before discarding. Maybe if others had the same hands-on experience with a piece of clothing they would rethink their wasteful fast fashion habits?
As garment manufacturing moves farther and farther away from the home, clothing has become increasingly disposable in the mind of the American consumer. When women were in the home making textiles and garments for their family, no one would have thought of throwing away a shirt for losing a button or getting a small rip, now we throw away clothing just because it isn’t the right color, or you just plain get bored of it. This trend goes beyond fashion, throwaway culture spreads through all consumer goods. In my view, the problem is two-fold 1) We don’t have an appreciation for the work it takes to make beautiful and long lasting textiles and clothing 2) We need more innovative ways of making closed loop product life-cycles and breaking the take make waste model.
Japan has a strong textile traditions and is a great comparison to America’s disposable fashion culture. Sakiori weaving, sometimes called rag weaving, and mended textiles were abundant in 19th century Japan. The country has a long history of using scrap fabrics to make new textiles and fixing worn textiles. That’s not to say that fast fashion hasn’t penetrated their culture, but as a result, there is a higher respect and appreciation for hand woven, hand made, and overall well made clothing. In my experience, Americans don’t have the same attachment to their textile heritage, possibly playing a role in their preference towards cheap and disposable pieces. Craft hobbies like quilting, knitting and crocheting are discarded as pastimes for women at home, and not beautiful artisanship.
Very few people in America are taught to sew, because of this, the simple task of sewing on a button or fixing a hole in your shirt becomes a reason for discarding a garment. Also ignorance always breeds problems. I’ve met several people that think clothing is made by machines and don’t consider the human behind the sewing machine. This makes it easier to throw away clothes when you think no one is working hard to produce it for your consumption.
We’ve discussed the lack of attachment to the physical product and lack of empathy for those producing them, now let’s talk about waste itself. We sure do produce a large amount of fabric waste every year, 15 million tons to be exact. The amount of waste created from the fashion industry is astonishing, and the implications for the environment are terrifying. With athleisure trending, synthetic non-recyclable garments like spandex black leggings are in landfills everywhere. Most fashion businesses operate on the take make waste linear model, but some are slowly shifting towards a more circular product lifecycle, like cradle to cradle. But by closing the loop and using all recyclable or biodegradable materials, hopefully the fashion industry can be demoted from being the 2nd most polluting industry.
Many brands have jumped on the bandwagon to promote waste reduction solutions like taking in old garments and offering discounts in return. Eileen Fisher is a great champion of this effort with their Green Eileen program, taking in old pieces and restoring them, making one of a kind pieces for their Green Eileen line. On the other side there’s H&M, who has a similar program, except it isn’t explicitly clear what they’re doing with the used clothing once they’ve been donated. Furthermore, their business creates so much waste that these recycling programs can hardly reverse the environmental harm they’re created. This article by Lucy Siegle gives a great in depth explanation of how this is counter intuitive.
In addition to these types of recycling programs, product innovation is needed. Browsing the Cradle to Cradle website you can see the 23 Fashion and Textile products that are certified. This is a start, but there is a lot to be desired when it comes to attractive design. Although this seems to be the trend in sustainable and ethical fashion. First comes the basics and purely utilitarian products, then slowly, others will start to emerge with beautiful and engaging design. When starting my career in the sustainable fashion world, there weren’t many high-end fashion companies paying attention to environmental concerns. Now brands are behind the curve if they’re not finding ways to work this into their brand. I look forward to increasing innovations in waste management within the global fashion supply chain, hopefully in a couple years I can write an update on how far we’ve come.
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I would love if this article inspires you to make a garment or textile from scratch to reconnect with the process. If you do, please share your creations with me. It would also be wonderful to brainstorm and discuss strategies to close the loop of the product lifecycle. Feel free to leave a comment below with any ideas.
Adventures with Pineapple Leaves – A Look at Sustainable Textile Production in Hawai’i
#HawaiiFiberProject Part I – Alternative Fibers
Have you thought about what your clothing is made of? Some people commit to wearing only natural fibers, responsibly sourced materials or recycled textiles, but where exactly do these fibers come from and how are they processed? Is there room for alternative fibers?
I kicked off the #HawaiiFiberProject by exploring this question and decided to try my hand at processing pineapple fibers. Before settling on pineapple, I researched a few Hawai’i grown plants and ruled out hemp, coconut, and banana. Even though industrial hemp was just legalized in Hawai’i, it would be hard to acquire, the fiber takes a lot of energy to break down and I didn’t have access to the tools I needed. Coconut fibers are great for more rustic pieces and would be perfect for a doormat, but I wanted something a bit more refined. When looking up processes for making banana fibers, they always involved heavy machinery and just wasn’t something I had the resources to produce. Ultimately, pineapple fibers seemed like the most realistic and attainable option. My main guidance was a Youtube video by the Philippine government, it looked fairly straightforward.
The Process
A lot of you have been asking be about where exactly these fibers are coming from. Is it the fruit pulp or the rind? The fibers used for textiles actually come from the leaves at the base of the plant, not the fruit.
After collecting about 15 leaves, I re-watched my reference Youtube video and got started. Equipped with a metal spatula I began scraping away at the leaves until the white fibers were visible, and then slowly pulled them out.
There was some trial and error for the best way to pull out the fibers. You have to make sure the whole fiber is exposed to avoid breaking, but also be careful not to cut the fibers while scraping the leaves. In hindsight, I should have kept the strands neatly hanging, instead of throwing them all together, to avoid getting tangled. After extracting the fibers I spent quite a bit of time cleaning and untangling the fibers to be usable.
Since the process of scraping the leaves took longer than expected, I only used about six or seven leaves, but it produced more than enough fiber for me. I can’t imagine creating enough to make a full textile for a shirt, but if you have the right tools and experience it might not be such a taxing experience. I spent two days to make just a small basket full of fibers.
Originally, I wanted to weave a textile out of the pineapple fiber, but the process of making such a fine even thread was beyond my capabilities. After playing around with the fibers and seeing how it behaves, I thought it would work well as an accent in my sakiori tote bag. By taking a few strands of the fibers and twisting them, it was the perfect unexpected touch to the design.
The steps are pretty basic, but by far the most difficult and time intensive stage was scraping the leaves to expose the fibers. I waited a couple days after picking the leaves before starting, so they may have been a bit dried out, but my hand was unbelievably sore after just one leaf. Next time, I would try soaking the leaves, or using them right after picking.
The fiber itself was beautiful and silky. One day I’ll try this again (properly) and make something completely out of pineapple fiber. It reminds me of a linen with a slight sheen, and maybe a little bit stiffer.
Pineapples are traditionally used in the Philippines to make a refined lightweight textile. There are boutique mills that produce the fabric with artisans, but as you can see, it is a very labor intensive process for mainstream production. That being said, there are now several types of textiles made from the pineapple plant, including pineapple leather, and there seems to be a lot of room for innovation in textile production. (Le Souk is a fun site to peruse and find alternative sustainable and ethical fabrics.)
The Takeaway
Why should we consider other kinds of textiles and what’s wrong with what we’re already using? My interest in looking at alternative fibers is twofold – 1) textile production could be a positive introduction to the Hawai’ian economy, creating jobs, supplying local designers and offering a unique experience for eco-tourism, 2) the way we currently produce a majority clothing is wasteful, we should constantly be looking for better alternatives to water intensive crops and non-recyclable materials.
Although Hawai’i garment manufacturing grew rapidly during the 1920’s and reached it’s peak during WWII providing for the servicemen on the islands, the textile industry never saw the same fortune. Except for a couple textile mills that came about with the popularity of screen printing in the 1950’s (Alfred Shaheen and Van Hamm Textiles), it’s difficult to find anything on textile production in Hawai’i. Starting in the 1960’s the cost of labor drove out the garment industry, just like in many other parts of the US. Bringing back the garment industry, and starting a textile industry, would mean either transforming it into a niche, high-end market or creating innovative technologies and taking out the human element. Something I discuss in relation to Trump’s America First policies in this post from April.
There is a Made in Hawai’i movement and a few brands make ready-to-wear garments locally. Textiles, to my knowledge, are not being widely produced in Hawai’i. But with the legalization of industrial hemp it seems like an opportunity to become a hub of artisanal and sustainable textile production. The Industrial Hemp Pilot Program is underway, inching Hawai’i towards partaking in the $620 million American hemp industry, which includes not only textiles but also health, food and beauty products.
Other sustainable fibers already growing in Hawai’i, such as pineapple, coconut, and banana, do not face the same legal barriers as hemp. Yet, currently there are no government programs, machinery or skilled labor in Hawai’i to support this. We would have to turn to mills elsewhere for guidance, or create new systems to break down the materials and turn them into fabric. I would be excited to see food waste from these plants used for textiles, I haven’t worked out the operational details for this one, but I would be a really fun project to try out.
I imagine mixing the lure of a Hawai’ian getaway fantasy with the luxurious quality of artisan made sustainable textiles would make for a great niche market. There is no sense in trying to compete with large-scale fast fashion fabric mills. Take Japan for example – across many markets, including the textile industry, they have mastered the beauty and power of extremely well made, artisan crafted products. I think there’s room for Hawai’i to join in too and start making their own boutique sustainable textiles.
Responsible material sourcing, and textile science are constantly evolving and in my opinion, are at the root of sustainable and ethical fashion. Pure, non-toxic, and renewable resources are the base of any basic sustainable garment. This is my main reason for starting the #HawaiiFiberProject, I wanted to take step beyond the clothing design and look at the fibers and textiles that they are made of. Are there materials we haven’t considered? and how would this industry impact our economy and communities?
In closing I’d like to share this video from Patagonia on industrial hemp production in Kentucky. I first saw it back in October and it spurred a lot of the questions I had about how a textile mill could positively impact a community. I hope you enjoy it!
Introducing the #HawaiiFiberProject
I’m back home in Hawai’i for about three weeks and am unbelievably excited about the #HawaiiFiberProject. There are three parts to the project, sakiori weaving (recycling old textiles), alternative fiber production (mainly pineapple and industrial hemp), and natural dyeing. During my time back on the island I aim to get to the roots of fiber and textile production, with the goal of accompanying each project with deeper research into how these core elements extend into the larger fashion industry.
I may pick up some other projects depending on what I can squeeze in. I would do infinite projects if I could, but I am supposedly on vacation, so I will be seeing friends and family, going to the beach, and just plain relaxing from time to time as well.
I chose these topics because they were projects that I can do with my Mom, who’s a textile artist, and also because I had some cool pieces in mind that I really wanted to make. I’ve never woven before, or made pineapple fibers, so there will be a big learning curve. I already started extracting pineapple fibers and setting up the loom for weaving, so far my hands are kind of sore and each step has been tedious and time consuming, but it’s very satisfying to create something with my own hands. My Mom is also pretty entertained by watching me, she keeps chuckling in the background.
These new research posts will be the start of a new chapter for Ethical Fashion Nerd, where I will produce more in-depth essays in addition to my regular journal posts. The nerd in me is so thrilled and can’t wait to get started.
To see more of the day to day process, I’ll be posting regularly on social media (mainly Instagram) about the #HawaiiFiberProject, follow along @ethicalfashnerd.
Why I Don’t Own a Sustainable Bikini
Nothing feels more freeing than swimming in the clear blue waters back home on the Big Island of Hawai’i. I just got back this week and am here for about a month, I can’t wait to reconnect with the rhythm of the ocean waves. The salt water smooths my skin and floating in the sunshine instantly cures any remaining New York City anxiety.
When packing for this trip I realized the only swimsuits I own are from a time before I fully committed to the conscious fashion life. One top was a bit worn out and the elastic was shot, but otherwise I had two sets of bikinis and a one piece for my trip. By my standards of only buying clothing when absolutely necessary, there was no need to buy another suit.
Part of the reason for starting this blog was to keep myself accountable, but it also has the power to make me insecure for those moments that I’m less than perfect. I am a conscious fashionista, but it can be hard to stay on track when there is pressure to stay on trend, have a head to toe sustainable fashion look, and not break the bank. Especially in this day and age with social media amplifying every imperfection, you can’t hide.
Even though the goal of my blog is not to post my #ootd, or promote brands, I do love clothes and if sharing my style inspires people to get involved I’m more than happy to share. Before leaving on this trip, however, I got extremely nervous about the idea of posting pictures of myself in a non-sustainable swimsuit. I found myself seconds away from impulse buying an adorable made in Hawaii swimsuit, from a brand that happened to be having a flash sale. The credit card was out, shipping was selected, all I had to do was push one button and it’d be mine, but I paused. WHY I was purchasing the swimsuit? After some deeper thought, I decided it wasn’t necessary.
One of the biggest tools in conscious fashion is being mindful of your actions and what’s truly motivating you to buy a garment. Our society has trained us that impulse buying is natural and that if we want something we should have it. As soon as there’s a new trend, ditch the old piece and get the new one. We’re taught that all occasions should be celebrated with a new outfit. A friend’s wedding coming up? Buy a new dress. A beach vacation booked? But a new swimsuit. This mindless pattern of consumption results in a closet full of one hit wonders leaving you wanting more, instead of timeless treasures.
Usually before buying an item, I identify a hole in my closet, then I exhaustively research online for brands I trust, or I’ll hit the thrift shops (almost daily) until I find a piece that fills that hole. In the case of this swimsuit, was there a hole in my closet or was there another motivating factor? When it came down to it, I realized that I wanted to buy the suit for the Instagram post. To post myself in a bikini that was in line with my ethical shopping guidelines. That’s all well and good, but it was more for my ego and consumerism than anything else, motivators that don’t justify a shopping spree.
I have been upcycling, thrifting and buying sustainable for four years now, but I’ve had some lapses, and have always had a hard time with swimsuits. It’s not that there is a lack of sustainable swimwear, they’re just a bit pricey, and I’ve never been able to bring myself to buy a used swimsuit. I usually keep on budget by frequenting thrift stores and buying vintage, but without that option I ended up buying non-sustainable options in my budget with the intention to wear them as long as I could. This is not the perfect answer to the problem, but it’s what worked for me at the time, and I’m not about to throw away a perfectly good swimsuit just because it’s not ethically made. After all, waste is one of the biggest issues of the sustainable fashion world and I do my best not to contribute to this ever increasing problem.
If I was still living in Hawai’i or frequented the beach or pool throughout the year I would consider buying a new swimsuit from one of the many sustainable swimwear brands out there. The reality is, however, that I’ll be in New York City for the next two years studying with my nose in a book or writing research papers. When I wear out the one’s I have now, I’ll gladly buy a new sustainable suit, keeping in mind my conscious fashion principles. Until then, I’ll be checking myself to make sure I’m not purchasing just for the sake of having something new to wear or to share with you all. I’m happy to have this blog to keep me on track and accountable.
What I Learned Working in Fast Fashion
Stepping into the office every morning felt a little like working for the enemy. My constant mantra was, “This is just to understand the problem, to gather information, to expose fast fashion.” Curiosity and eagerness to learn kept me upbeat, even when I was faced with their questionable business practices.
I left my comfortable ethical fashion start-up job in October 2016 knowing that grad school was on the horizon, but still had almost a year before it started and was pondering my next steps. Since arriving in New York City I had the luxury of staying in my bubble working at a brand where I trusted the product, knew exactly who made the clothes and the materials going into them. The mass market, price-driven fashion world was foreign and incomprehensible, yet this was the world I was going back to graduate school to change. It dawned on me that I needed to have that understanding in order to become the impactful leader that I was striving to be. So I started applying to production jobs at mainstream fashion brands.
Cautiously hopeful – this was my attitude on the first day. It was all a bit of chaos, no one knew I was coming. For the first couple weeks I just sat there, observed and listened. They made off-price mens clothing and I was managing production. The work was a bit monotonous, but I grew to really enjoy my co-workers. A couple of them had been in the industry for decades and I loved hearing about the good old days when the NYC garment district was bustling.
My last day was June 23rd and I walked away feeling grateful for the experience, and also incredibly relieved I no longer had to pretend. I’m happy to be able to carry what I’ve learned into my next chapter, here are three of the biggest takeaways I had from my time there.
Throw away culture – from product to people
Now, I don’t want to over generalize and say that all fast-fashion companies operate in this way, but the one I worked for did and I have a suspicion that many others do too. There is a lot of turnover within fashion as a whole and a lot of this is due to do with the volatile market and an uncertain future for retail. Yet, the “employee as dispensable” is very different from a struggling business model trying to find it’s place in an ever-changing market.
From the moment I started, I got the feeling that if I left they’d just go find someone else eager to break into the fashion industry. Pay was horrible, there were no benefits, zero vacation, and we worked most holidays. I would get into the office at 9:30am and would stay till at least 7pm, sometimes staying till 8pm or later. I wasn’t the only one that felt under-appreciated and cast aside, my co-workers would rant about being talked down to, and overworked.
This sense of being expendable wasn’t just with the employees, it started with the product. When developing pieces and producing for customers, the product just had to be good enough; most important was affordability. There was no pause to question, what is the process of creating this wash effect? Or, how are the factories sourcing their materials? It just had to look like the CAD (kind of) and be at the right price. A product isn’t coming out right? Cancel the order and move on, create more. Employee not working out? Get rid of them and find someone who will do the job, for the least amount of money.
100% trend driven – constant pressure to copy
This might be obvious, but it shocked me to what extent the designs were merely copied. I had heard the horror stories of independent designers getting their designs ripped off, and have seen how quickly the trends go from the runway to Forever 21, but the blatancy of it was unsettling.
If we didn’t have the specs for style, we’d go out and buy one from a competitor and copy it. I understand buying reference samples to base a design off of, but to make no tweaks or adjustments didn’t feel quite right. Maybe I was living in an idealized world before but I had seen designers work hard to create new shapes and innovative designs, and to see that is being stolen without any thought was tough. Especially since this was so normalized and encouraged.
One day we got some samples from a factory, we opened the box to discover that the designs were not ours. Seeing the fresh new designs, our boss loved them and wanted to produce it for ourselves. Immediately the designers were told to tweak the colors and and make CADs for the next sales meeting. These decisions were made without even the blink of an eye.
Business is booming – Americans want a deal
Even with retailers facing uncertainty and consumers shifting their buying habits, the off-price market seems to be having a moment. Most Americans are looking for cheap clothes that they feel like they’re getting a deal on. I had no idea that new garments were being made with price stickers advertising reduced special pricing even though they were never sold at the higher price. The mind game had sure worked on me, they got me fooled. Many Americans are falling for it too, feeling good about all the money they “saved”.
The off-price market is huge, and although it might be a little daunting to try and make it more sustainable or ethical, the potential is massive. It’s not really about the consumer, they don’t particularly care if it’s sustainable. It’s about creating new methods and technology to make sustainable practices a better business model, think Ray Anderson and how he radically reduced waste and environmental harm in his carpet company by adopting sustainable business practices. It’s not a necessarily a marketing tool or value add like it has been in the luxury and contemporary markets, although it could be as our society shifts towards a more sustainable future. With a combination of making sustainability more attainable and shifting the mindset of the consumer, there could be an amazing opportunity to crack into this market. It’s probably all a bit idealistic, but I’m a bit of a dreamer.
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I never went overseas where the clothes were manufactured, but I could only imagine the working conditions. I saw the prices we were buying the clothes for and knew that only about 10%, if that, would go to the person making the garment. It made me sick. Not to mention the washing, dyeing and sandblasting done on the jeans creates hazardous environments and were probably making the workers sick. This would be a whole other research project, something I hope to better understand and figure out solutions for while at NYU.
Ultimately, I’m left with more questions than answers. I saw the inside of a very small price-driven fashion company, but one that is making a significant impact in the world of off-price fashion. I feel more motivated than ever as I enter graduate school, knowing that I have more clarity on the industry I’m trying to innovate and change.
Next Chapter: Graduate School – Impacting the Global Fashion Industry
I’ve been hinting at something big on the horizon for a few weeks now. This Friday is the last day at my job and I think it’s about time to let the cat out of the bag. After two and a half years in New York City, reinventing myself and adjusting to the curve balls thrown at me, I’ll be starting a new chapter: Graduate School.
As of this Fall, I’ll be pursuing an Master’s in Public Administration at NYU, studying international human rights and environmental policies. It might be a bit crazy to get a second graduate degree, but I couldn’t think of a more natural step. My work had me feeling stunted, I was learning about the intricacies of the fashion industry, but not how to impact change in the global community.
So how exactly did my NYC journey lead me here? I left Hawaii in January 2015 hopeful that New York City would be the answer, that the city would take me in and cultivate my curiosity for sustainable fashion. I imagined a world that would be hard, yet gentle and guiding. What I found was infinite opportunity with people stepping all over each other to grab it.
To be honest, my life since landing at JFK has been filled with uncertain, anxious and overwhelming experiences, with some splashes of accomplishment and excitement. By far the most challenging part has been finding my own balance and acceptance as part of this chaos. It was a crash course in dealing with stubborn, aggressive and erratic people. That’s not to say that New Yorkers aren’t friendly when they want to be, it’s just a different kind of human interaction. Coming from Hawaiian and Japanese cultures, it was a culture shock.
I still remember my first day working in the industry, running around picking up markers, visiting sample makers and checking-in on the factory, all within a few blocks in the garment district. I thought “I’ve done it, I made it, and it will all work out”. How cute I was, thinking it was that simple. Maybe if I had moved to the city to work in fashion, but I hadn’t, I moved to the city to disrupt the fashion industry, to be a changemaker.
At the very beginning, seeing the process from design to delivery at a small Brooklyn start-up helped ease me into the industry. As my role grew and the responsibility piled on, strains in working with complex personalities were magnified. Even more revealing, my limitations were made painfully clear. We were a young team, I craved mentorship and cross industry development. Learning about the fashion industry was important, but I wanted to reach beyond to understand the complexities of community organizing, creating policies and shaping the industry both locally and abroad. So I left, even though I loved the job, the company, and the people.
I’m not entirely sure where this degree will lead me, but I’m excited at all the possibilities and opportunities it will open up. Maybe this is my ever-optimist mindset, but I’m confident that this will unlock the roles that I’ve been craving and the the jobs I’ve been dreaming of (as cliche as that sounds). I can’t wait to share this journey with you and bring you along as I find out where I can make the most impact to make the garment production more sustainable and ethical.