In the Trenches

Let’s consider this my summer vacation. I’ve been away from the blog for two weeks now due to internet tribulations, a flurry of visitors and the start of (gulp) a new job.

But I’m back now, with much on my mind and many new developments, not the least of which is a beautiful new investment in my future: a trenchcoat. That may sound ridiculous, but as summer winds down here in Portland (already?) and we stare into the abyss of months and months of rain, at least I have the donning of my new coat to look forward to.

Among my visitors in the past weeks was my mother, whom I dragged out to “Organic Day” at Mario’s 3.10 (an established high-end boutique here in PDX) under the premise that it was “very Portland.” What had attracted me to the event was the promise of a sneak-preview of Anna Cohen’s upcoming season. I walked away, however, with much more than just a sense of what’s to come for Fall/Holiday 2007.

The trip out to Mario’s saw the purchase of an off-white denim trench which is quite the beauty—an Anna Cohen creation from SS07. With amazing volume and sculpted shape, it’s just stiff enough to have immense character while remaining comfortable. But this is where I must be careful: I now intern at Anna Cohen, and must be wary of gloating too much about her work, or at least without a disclaimer. (Hence the mention of the “new job” above.)

I had some trouble doing justice to it in the photogaphs I took of myself, but the photos I’ve pulled off the Anna Cohen website (below) provide a pretty good sense of the double-breasted basic’s immense versatility. Apparently it was a beloved bestseller from the collection and I should consider myself lucky for getting the last one off the (sale!) racks at Mario’s.


It seems I’ve got the best of both worlds: holding my breath for the chill and the rain, while loving the northern sunshine as long as it lasts.

Anna at Last

It was over two months ago now that Anna Korte’s jewelry literally stopped me in my tracks at Alberta Street's Last Thursday. Since then, I’ve harped on about plans to purchase a piece of her repurposed-vintage jewelry for my cousin (see 6.24's "Presenting Repurposed" post.) and harassed the gracious designer with endless emails full of questions.

Last night, I finally met the lovely, bubbly lady in person (at this month’s Last Thursday), and couldn’t limit myself to the heart-charm necklace for my cousin (which was even more charming in person) as planned. I caved in and got myself a low-hanging, nautical-themed pendant necklace.













But how can I feel guilty adorning myself with the original work of a local designer who makes use of materials that others might toss? Perhaps that’s the number one danger of sustainable fashion design—with a good cause behind one's purchases, it’s even harder to stop oneself from shopping.

Seeking A Mean (Green) Jean

I had a “shopping report” due today for one of the fashion design courses in which I’m enrolled. Oh drudgery of all drugeries, actually being required to shop. (Can I be enrolled in fashion design courses forever? Please?) So that I wouldn’t be tempted to chalk up a massive price-tag, I decided to keep with a recent theme and chose to investigate sustainable jeans. (Having bought a pair of Eduns a few weeks ago, I knew I would not be able to come with any excuse to purchase another pair, and that this topic was therefore safe ground.) The assignment was to search for a specific product in three different types of stores-- boutique, specialty store, department store. My investigations admittedly only scratched the surface, and the process of writing the report made me realize that there are dozens of potential postings on this complex subject. For now, though, I’ll be lazy and excerpt for you a few of my musings as they appeared in the report which I would be more than happy to have assigned to me on a weekly basis.

"Jeans have come a long way from the intentionally hard-wearing (and therefore heavy and stiff) work uniform of the American West. These days, jeans are no longer a symbol of working-class status; rather, they are softened and faded with toxic chemicals to create desirable and flexible styles... Many consumers who would not usually spend more than one hundred dollars on just any pair of pants are willing to “invest” in a pair of jeans. While the jeans we buy these days may be pre-worn paper-thin, the conception of jeans as long-lasting and durable endures. Coupled with the idea of jeans as a supremely flexible and fundamental element of one’s wardrobe (they can be dressed up or dressed down; worn both to the farmer’s market and to dinner at a fancy restaurant when paired with different shoes and tops), jeans become a very legitmate wardrobe “investment” for a broad base of shoppers in American culture. Sustainable fashion designers, therefore, have a vested interest in overcoming the “sustainability” challenges of jeans production in order to reap the benefits of this lucrative industry. While there are many “pending projects” of this nature (a few chronicled in the article “It’s not Easy Being Jeans” in the Sustainable Style section of this May’s Vogue), relatively few such products are available on racks in Portland stores.”

I don’t want to bore you with tome after tome on jeans, so instead I’ll give you a brief synopsis of the 1600 words that followed these in my report. At Greenloop (see my initial posting on the sustainable boutique just below), I tried on a pair of tapered Anna Cohen jeans made of extremely raw (and therefore very dark) denim.
They had only one pair left, which perhaps was why they fit me funny (I wasn’t paying attention to size at all, and they were perhaps not meant for my body in the least) but they do indeed look smashing on both the ladies in this shoot (above).

Greenloop also stocks San Francisco-based Del Forte, which, while quite sumptuous to the touch (and perhaps the closest to what one might expect from a more mainstream jeans company), were sadly a little too flared for my personal style (pictured here). My interest is piqued though—they certainly have an impeccable hand, and now I’m on a rampant search to see what their other offerings are in terms of cut. Of all the denim I put on at Greenloop, a pair of Loomstates was the greatest temptation. The “Pelagic Maiden Jeans” were the first pair of wide-leg jeans I’ve tried in quite some time that were actually flattering. (For this reason, I don’t think I’ve worn wide-leg jeans since junior high). The black and white polka-dot pocket lining was of course an added bonus, given my minor recent obsession.

My inquiries resulted in visits to Saks (to check out “Citizens of Humanity”) and American Apparel as well, but Saks was a stretch, and any discussion of American Apparel is opening a lengthy (if insanely interesting) can of worms—a can of worms I will indeed open, it’s just too late for it tonight. But soon…

Out of the Way, In the Loop

I’d been putting off the trip I took today for some months now. I’d perused the Greenloop webstore (thegreenloop.com) countless times, but I wanted to physically set foot in the sustainable style store before coming to any conclusions. However, being entirely reliant on public transportation, I balked when the Trimet website indicated that I would have to transfer three times to arrive at the store’s front door after almost an hour of transit. Then, a few days ago, I finally made one attempt to get there that left me stranded me roadside at the wrong stop amidst boarded up storefronts and smut shops of non-sidewalked suburbia with the skies raining down on me. Yikes. I just turned around and headed home. But I woke up this morning resolute—I would make use of a potentially lazy Sunday and explore.

Greenloop is relatively new to its new location in the bustling, family-oriented Sellwood neighborhood, where it’s housed in the B.F. Smith House—a late nineteenth-century historic building set back from a street lined with antique shops and cafes. In step with the homey, low-key interior, Greenloop stocks a surprisingly casual look. Perhaps it’s not so surprising—this is, after all, Oregon, home of the home office and telecommuting in pjs. A notable exception was a dreamily soft pair of slacks—regrettably too heavy for summer—by Anna Cohen.












(Leave it to the queen of eco-conscious Italian street couture to knock it up a notch.) Perhaps I have a limited point of comparison, which consists entirely of Arboretum, located in the land of country estates and toney social functions. Greenloop, in contrast, carries loads of practicalities such as tees, sandals, and jeans, and has an extensive menswear section.

As I understand it, Greenloop is the city’s only sustainable fashion design boutique (though individual sustainable designers do have storefronts), which I quite selfishly consider unfortunate, as it is located an hour away from me. But Greenloop’s physical location isn’t of utter importance, it seems, as by far the majority of their sales are through their extensive online store. And even if you can’t stop in with frequency, you can stay in touch via their blog, not too far away at greenloop.blogspot.com.

Edun, in Essence

Another rainy day in Portland. And however sad the lack of summer sun may be, it at least makes me a little smug about the outcome of my most recent sustainable splurge dilemma: some weeks ago, a pair of Edun jeans won out over a crème cap-sleeve mini-dress by Bahar Shahpar at my new favorite boutique. (See my post on Arboretum at http://mindfulfinery.blogspot.com/2007/07/edenic-edun-ic-bliss.html. Did I mention that they offer all sorts of reading material on sustainable fashion design for you to peruse while admiring both your companion’s try-ons and the antique sewing machines, typewriters and suitcases that constitute the store’s decor. I’m not endorsed, I promise—maybe just a little in love.) My rainy walks today were pleasant enough clad in my new pants, but there’s no way I could have rocked the mini dress without some serious tights (which wasn’t so appealing in the supremely muggy weather).

To be honest, I only vaguely knew the name “Edun” before my purchase. I suppose I was under the impression that the company’s focus was primarily on ecological sustainability, and I ran with the idea that my new jeans were made of 100% organic cotton (and even told a few people so). Slap on my wrist for assuming that sustainable and organic are interchangeable— lesson learned. Only about forty-two percent of the cotton used in Edun products is organic. (See edunonline.com/live/facts.asp for more Edun factoids of this nature.) Edun’s focus, instead, is on spurring economically sustainable systems and promoting social sustainability around the globe, and is in the process of implementing a “Corporate Social Responsibility strategy.”

The company, established in 2005, is now produced in Peru, Tunisia, Kenya, India, Mauritius and Madagascar and overseen by independent non-profit “Verite” (verite.org) that ensures “safe, fair and legal” working conditions in an effort to “humanize” the global workforce. I read somewhere (and tsk tsk me, but I can’t remember exactly where) a description of Edun’s clothes as “earthy,” which took me aback. While the descriptions proferred by the company itself may invoke a ‘nature idiom’ in its titling of colors and citations of inspiration, I doubt a sense of “earthiness” (or even “naturalness”) would come to mind for most people when presented with the yellow trench, bright white men’s suit or women’s denim set from the S/S 06 collection.



The subsequent season offers quite a distinct look, but the sleek, dark, urban mood of AW06 is nowhere closer to “earthy.”



To digress now into the material pleasures of a well-appointed closet (not to imply that I have one, but rather that it’s something I eternally strive for), and the joy of these new jeans in particular, I’d venture to suggest that they’re the most darn flexible (and I mean that in the sense of stylistically, but neither are they by any means stiff) pants I’ve posessed in some time. They’re successful with cowboy boots, thong sandals, flats (both dressy and casual). They make me feel better about wearing sneakers (which I may now permanently call trainers, just to get over the juvenile associations I have with the American phrase), and they dress up quite easily with a pair of heels. I may now make it my mission to find a pair of shoes with which they don’t work.

One last detail: the inside of Edun jeans are inscribed with text, printed in a pretty, rolling script. Maybe I’m weired, but there’s something I love about being in the middle of getting dressed and stopping to read “We see only death, the free animal” written on the inside of my pants.

The Hannover Principles

I came across this set of sustainable design guiding principles while perusing the Arboretum blog (http://arboretumapparel.com/). This document was originally proposed in the early 90s by William McDonough and Michael Braungart, authors of Cradle to Cradle: Remaking the Way we Make Things (2002).

What I like about the authors’ approach is embodied in their suggestion that “The Hannover Principles should be seen as a living document committed to the transformation and growth in the understanding of our interdependence with nature, so that they may adapt as our knowledge of the world evolves.” The principles are fluid, and subject to a growth in comprehension. A hopeful openess with which I feel quite familiar. (I’m recalling here my argument for the use of the term “mindful” in the title of this blog.)

What I’m left wondering at most intently is: are there are any specific ways in which these principals should be tweaked when applied specifically to the fashion industry? Or, are there perhaps certain of these principles that are more pertinent to apparel production than others?

1. Insist on rights of humanity and nature to co-exist in a healthy, supportive, diverse and sustainable condition.
2. Recognize interdependence. The elements of human design interact with and depend upon the natural world, with broad and diverse implications at every scale. Expand design considerations to recognizing even distant effects.
3. Respect relationships between spirit and matter. Consider all aspects of human settlement including community, dwelling, industry and trade in terms of existing and evolving connections between spiritual and material consciousness.
4. Accept responsibility for the consequences of design decisions upon human well-being, the viability of natural systems and their right to co-exist.
5. Create safe objects of long-term value. Do not burden future generations with requirements for maintenance or vigilant administration of potential danger due to the careless creation of products, processes or standards.
6. Eliminate the concept of waste. Evaluate and optimize the full life-cycle of products and processes, to approach the state of natural systems, in which there is no waste.
7. Rely on natural energy flows. Human designs should, like the living world, derive their creative forces from perpetual solar income. Incorporate this energy efficiently and safely for responsible use.
8. Understand the limitations of design. No human creation lasts forever and design does not solve all problems. Those who create and plan should practice humility in the face of nature. Treat nature as a model and mentor, not as an inconvenience to be evaded or controlled.
9. Seek constant improvement by the sharing of knowledge. Encourage direct and open communication between colleagues, patrons, manufacturers and users to link long term sustainable considerations with ethical responsibility, and re-establish the integral relationship between natural processes and human activity.
(http://www.mindfully.org/Sustainability/Hannover-Principles.htm)

O Yohji

I've been meaning to spend some serious time extolling the virtues of thrift-store shopping. It's a healthy habit for any mindful fashion-addict, in being inherently sustainable (reducing potential waste by reusing existent pieces) and as a good exercise in creativity (the challenge of seeing stylish potential in abandoned garments). Vintage clothing purchases can also be the most rewarding, imbuing a kind of pride in having discovered treasures that no one else could detect. I myself am still glowing from my most recent thiftstore find.

It's a little ode to Yohji Yamamoto's A/W 07 white-and-black polka-dots. And while his playful rotating hoopskirts probably raised a few amused eyebrows in fashion capitals, my significantly less extreme take on the pattern is sure to do the same on Portland city streets. Oh the pleasures of befuddling people.


Hurray for shoulder-padded high-waited polka-dot jumpsuits! And hurrah for Yohji, for daring me to do it.