Economist Juliet Schor suggests a deeper way to think about our system of clothing, pointing directly to an ethics of dress, a morality of jeans. Acknowledging that there is real pleasure in wearing clothes that are creative and expressive, Schor argues, gives us the choice to prefer quality over quantity, to take delight in the cut, color, and craft of fewer clothes. If we discard the planned obsolescence of the fashion system, searching for greater quality in classic styles, we would both look good and do good. If we bought our clothes locally, we would shrink our carbon footprint, and reward the craft and productivity of our neighbors. More importantly, Schor suggests a new standard of beauty that includes fair trade and environmental responsibility. As a character in the movie Gandhi says, “There is no beauty in the finest cloth if it makes hunger and unhappiness.” And the logical extension of owning clothes we truly care about is that we will care for them more carefully. Once we have purchased good jeans, for example, we will wear them until they’re worn out, making creative patches and repairs a symbol of pride, resourcefulness, and fashion. When we grow out of things, we would be less likely to throw them in the trash, and more likely to resourcefully extend their useful life through donation. We might even start clothing exchanges like libraries, which would enable us to share and wear more clothes than we actually own.28
Fortunately, a lot of hard work has already been done to make these possibilities a reality. Along with a politics of environmental justice, college students have also begun to invent a politics of sartorial justice. In 1997, conscientious collegians established United Students Against Sweatshops (USAS), an organization designed to make sure that college logowear is produced and traded fairly. In 2000, USAS created the Workers Rights Consortium to investigate working conditions in factories worldwide, and in 2007, they invited colleges and universities to join the Designated Suppliers Program to make sure that factory workers producing college apparel get living wages and the right to unionize.29 Students in USAS also organize boycotts of companies that violate fair employment practices and exploit global ecosystems in order to provide cheap clothes. Because the most valuable possession of any international company is its good name (the technical term for this is “brand equity”), students and other concerned citizens can leverage reforms fairly easily. According to BrandZ.com, a source on international brand ranking, the name Nike, for example, is worth $12.5 billion—the highest brand equity of any apparel maker. That’s the value of the brand—not the value of the shoes, clothes, ads, or anything tangible—and it’s a value that Nike can’t afford to lose if consumers learn of unfair labor practices or environmental degradation in its manufacturing processes. When consumers pressure companies and publicize their efforts, even multinational corporations need to respond—and even Nike has. If they know how to use it, college students and other consumers do have some power over powerful corporations.30
Boycott: A way of putting our money where our values are, a protest withdrawing business from merchants who have withdrawn from the moral ecology of the culture. “We boycott,” said Martin Luther King, Jr. during the Civil Rights Movement, “not to put people out of business, but to put justice into business.”
Buycott: A way of putting our money where our values are by buying from companies that improve their social and environmental impacts by promising and practicing environmental justice and regenerative design.
Students have also responded to the sweatshopping of the Earth, the ways in which the global textile trade exploits ecosystems in order to provide low-cost clothing to Wal-Mart and other U.S. retailers. As with cheap labor, the environmental cost of this production is high. But some students are changing their consumption, looking to companies like Patagonia for organic cotton, sustainable wool, or recycled fabrics. Some students are looking for alternative fibers, like hemp, corn, and bamboo, and others are buying fewer clothes and using their money for more important things.31
Responding to consumer demand, some blue jeans have begun turning green. In 2006, Levi Strauss introduced Eco jeans, an organic cotton line. Del Forte Denim manufactures jeans in the United States that are made entirely of organic cotton, and other niche companies are following suit. Such green jeans add another level of design, one that fits not just the human form but nature’s designs as well. And the future might see additional design factors, too—fair wages and better treatment for the workers who make our clothes. U2’s Bono sponsors Edun jeans, which promise fair trade practices in addition to environmental responsibility. If you wear Del Forte jeans, you can participate in Project Rejeaneration, sending your jeans back to the company for a 10 percent discount on your next pair of jeans, or make a contribution to the Sustainable Cotton Project.32
Such activity—personal, interpersonal, and political—offers hope for a sustainable clothing trade. If we can combine a passion for our clothes with compassion for people who make them, we can create a system that embodies our best intentions. When our passion for clothing includes compassion for the planet, we can wear it as a sign of right relationship with the Earth. And that would really be dressing for success.
4
Food for Thought
The day is coming when a single carrot, freshly observed, will set off a revolution.
Paul Cezanne
Grass is the original solar technology.
Michael Pollan, from “Michael Pollan on What’s Wrong with Environmentalism” at e360.yale.edu
Look at those cows and remember that the greatest scientists in the world have never discovered how to make grass into milk.
Michael Pupin
How we eat determines how the earth is used.
Wendell Berry, “The Pleasures of Eating”
After getting up and getting dressed, Joe and Jo College head for the cafeteria, a place they usually visit three times a day. At breakfast, Jo eats a bowl of cereal with a banana. Joe goes for eggs, toast, bacon, and a glass of milk. Coffee and juice complement many of these morning meals. At lunch, Joe picks up a burger and fries, while his roommate piles up a lunch-meat sandwich. Jo looks over the soup and salad bar, and a couple of hot entrées. Coffee is still a staple, but the juices are often replaced by soft drinks. And there’s definitely dessert.
Dinner is the main meal of the day. Most nights, there are numerous entrées: meat and potatoes, hamburgers (again), a pasta dish, pizza perhaps, along with a soup and salad bar—and dessert. There’s a lot to choose from, but in many college cafeterias a student doesn’t have to select just one. Some respond by overeating, perhaps also in part to save money on between-meal snacks. They can take anything that looks good to them because it’s no big deal if they don’t finish. For most students the cafeteria is an everyday occurrence, but for billions of people, past and present, it’s an unimaginable feast.
Even though there’s lots of food in the cafeteria, students also eat elsewhere. In fact, there’s hardly anyplace they don’t eat. On campus, as in America at large, eating is no longer restricted in space and time. The library is sometimes off-limits, but that’s about it. Many colleges operate snack bars or a convenience store, and larger universities
