Sustainability

10 Easy Peasy Ways to Reduce Your Impact

published on April 22, 2019 by Angela Hamilton

In honor of Earth Day, we’ve compiled some of our favorite easy ways to reduce your impact. Hopefully with all of the Earth Day posts, National Parks Week, and Fashion Revolution going on, you’ll feel just as inspired as us to make a difference. We all have to start somewhere and there is no shame in saying, I haven’t done any of these, but I’m going to start. My fave is #1—I go on walks everyday so I’m going to make it a point to pick up at least one piece of trash each day. Let us know what you’ll do to reduce your impact!

10 easy peasy ways to reduce your impact

Pick up one piece of trash a day. There are a lot of Instagram communities dedicated to picking up trash in the city, on hiking trails, and at beaches. You can join in or get inspired and do your own thing. It doesn’t matter how, just that you make the decision to pick up something when you see it. We all see trash every day, but it’s that decision that we’re going to do something, that makes it easy to go from just passing by to taking a moment to clean it up.

Make a meal using what you have at home. If you’re like me and not the most natural cook (anyone?) it can be tough to make a meal without a shopping list and recipe handy. But doing so means there’s always miscellaneous items that can be used for experimenting with a new meal. Lately I’ve been using my extras to make bowls with roasted veggies and quinoa. Doing this once a week when you’d reeeeally rather go pick up breakfast or lunch will save money and create less waste.

Put together a zero waste kit. Zero waste is an intimidating term, but there’s also a strong, supportive community behind it, where everyone has the same goal—to reduce your impact. As a creative person who wants to be inspired by what I do, the act of putting together my own zero waste starter kit got me excited to put it to use. Be sure to start off with what you have at home before moving on to products you need to buy!

Think of recycling as a last resort. Big brands would have us think that recycling is the first step (thanks, greenwashing), when it should be last. Designer Sivan Ilan talks about this in regard to her textile business—all it requires is a shift in mindset. Think of packaging for example. The first question is, do I need this? And if you do, you might then think how can I reuse this? Once you reuse it, you might think, can I upcycle this to become something else? Way down the road, once it no longer serves you, you can recycle it (or hopefully compost, if it can be)!

Politely decline a straw or disposable napkins at a restaurant. I know, way too much hype about straws going around these days, but it’s important to keep up the momentum until casual dining spots are ALL being more mindful about single-use. If a straw or a plastic bag has to be the emblem for the “refuse single use” movement, so be it—what’s really important is decreasing our reliance on things that stick around for way longer than they serve us.

Sign a petition. Signing petitions is a great first step for those who aren’t used to activism and don’t know where to start. It forces you to keep up on the issues—which is the only way you’ll learn where you stand/how you want to help—and it really can effect change. Don’t believe me? See why Trader Joe’s announced their decision to phase out plastic.

One less meal containing red meat. Reducing our dependence on red meat is essential to combating climate change. If you are a meat eater, this is an impactful first step in being more conscious of the effect your food has on the environment. When you write your weekly grocery list, replace one meal a week that would typically contain beef—and you’re already making a difference.

Do some green research before you travel. How many people can say they research how to go green while traveling, before they book a trip? It’s a simple thing you can google to find tons of resources on the do’s and don’ts of tourism at your destination. If you’re traveling to Thailand, for example, it would be good to have a briefing on the complicated state of elephants there, before you are faced with a decision about your potential activity, in the moment. It’s so simple and doesn’t require a major change in plans, just a little forward thinking.

Ask yourself this question before you Prime. Next time you’re about to order on Amazon prime, ask yourself, is this something I could pick up locally next time I’m out? If so, you eliminate the need for packaging, expedited shipping (transportation, more packaging), pollution, and other environmental hazards that come along with getting it to you. Sometimes convenience isn’t even about convenience, we get so used to doing something that we don’t realize it would be just as easy to do it a different way. This helps you check those impulses and ultimately reduce your impact!

Check your clothing labels. You’ll find countless ways to quit fast fashion and budget for sustainable clothing on our blog and beyond, but I think it’s more of a journey than a destination. It takes time to learn about the things you wear and the items that make you feel comfortable and confident, and how that plays into your actions as a consumer. If you’re not ready to make a drastic change, start by looking at the clothing labels on the things you already wear. Once you learn about materials, you can start to research sustainable alternatives. It doesn’t cost money to learn, and education is key to reducing your footprint.

Imagine the effect just committing to one of these for the next 30 days might have. If you’re like me, it’ll help you build up the knowledge and confidence to tackle larger goals from there. But at the very least, you’ll have made an effort to reduce your impact where you didn’t before.

Which of these 10 ways speaks to you? Use #ecoclubofficial on Instagram to share your progress with the community. Happy Earth Week!

What Chasing a Napkin Down a California Beach Taught Me About The Landfill, Storytelling, and Lifelong Learning

published on April 19, 2019 by Angela Hamilton
updated on November 1, 2021

One warm weekday a couple years ago, before my reusable-napkin-packing-days, I set out for a morning at the beach. I brought along the usual accessories: coffee, notebook, blanket—everything a writer in search of solitude (AKA, a good place to nap under the guise of sparking inspiration) might bring. I’d also gotten a pastry at a local café, which came along with a brown paper napkin. I set up camp, finished my snack, and low-and-behold—a nice big breeze washed over me, and sent that thin paper napkin bouncing like a tumbleweed.

Shit. In the few seconds I considered whether I should bring my belongings with me on the chase, the napkin was off—eluding its landfill destiny, bound for the mansions lining the bike path, surely there must be better days ahead.

Moments later, I was panting. Kicking up and tripping over imported sand on LA’s most cared-for beach. All thanks to a breeze brought in over the same coastal waters I’d seen my first dolphins glide through. The glossiest, most beautifully joyful dolphins—real life versions of those I’d done reports on in second grade, written stories on in fourth, spent my first Christmas in Los Angeles fawning over at 23—nearly in tears at the sight of them chasing our boat. I wasn’t about to let something happen to those waters, let alone be a source of it.

Now, I don’t know who might’ve seen me tripping across Manhattan Beach’s otherwise pristine shores that morning, and it could have been no one. Not only was I far from my own neighborhood on a slow morning, but a lot less people are paying attention than we tend to think. But my anxious, self-conscious brain knew that I’d never be shielded from judgment. I could give up, as if I were some jerk tossing a soda bottle out the window on the freeway, or I’d finally tackle this wispy thing floating in the summer breeze, and look like an idiot—though at least, an idiot who succeeded. No matter how I looked to people, I’d feel the same: foolish.

Off I went. Trudging through the sand, until I finally captured the damned thing, crumpled it, and tossed it in the nearest trash can—looking behind me as I made the trek back to my belongings, just in case.

***

I later told this story to a rare true ally—the one friend I’d made in LA that completely understood my inability to litter, if even by accident—to which she smiled and said, “I totally understand you not wanting trash to end up in the ocean.” She paused, then with a wince continued, “Not to crush you, buuut… Had you not chased down that napkin, it might’ve ended up in the ocean and dissolved in the water, rather than the landfill where it will have a much harder time breaking down.”

And that’s when I learned that landfills are actually so much worse than I thought—as they are not designed for biodegradation.

***

Thinking back, I didn’t know then, but that was exactly the kind of teaching moment I needed, the kind that we all need to experience constantly in order to grow in our commitment to the things we care about. An embarrassing 30 seconds on the beach led to a conversation which led to a lesson which led to research which led to a strengthened (yet ever evolving) understanding of waste and my connection to it, which led to a commitment to decreasing my waste, and therefore my consumption, which led to more conversations, which led to other people I’ve talked to questioning their own consumption, which led to more conversations and yeah, some more embarrassing moments, and more mistakes and more lessons learned and ultimately some pretty big change on my own part, and maybe even the parts of some of the people involved in those conversations along the way. It also led to a larger sense of urgency in sharing the things I do learn along the way—which I think is ultimately why I’m writing today.

It’s fascinating, I think, to reflect back on things we’ve learned and held on to, and how we came to learn those things, even if our understanding remains murky at times. And how, just by sharing the tiniest experiences, which seem so inconsequential, we arrive at new lessons, and so on. What I know now about the environment and human impact and climate change and, well, trash—is so minute—perhaps even more so than most people with such a strong attachment to the issues (I never did well in science class, ask anyone). It is so small. I am so small.

Yet the effect continues to ripple.

And everything else I experience and learn and share will too. And everything you do and learn and share. And on and on.

It’s easy to stay put inside our own heads and start to think we’ve done or tried or thought of everything, or that one way is right or there’s nowhere left to go. All we can really do is hope to be humbled again and again, by the enormity of what we don’t know.

It builds character, at the very least. In keeping with my newfound gratitude for every object, thank you, napkin.

(Technical note: The experience described in this piece would’ve gone differently at any other beach—here in Seattle, I would’ve chased it down and kept it until I found a compost bin. At others still, I may not have ever even found at trash can. How does anyone write a story involving the environment? The complexities are endless.)

Photo by Tamara Henzen

Fashion & Textile Designer Sivan Ilan: What It Means to be a Value-Driven Designer

published on March 18, 2019 by Angela Hamilton

Introducing our new friend, multidisciplinary designer Sivan Ilan based in Philadelphia. Art, fashion, and textile design all intersect in her work, which ranges from weavings made from textile waste to a collection of hand-embroidered fashion made from upcycled designer denim and so much more. As an artist and designer, she’s driven by her values of mindfulness, community, and environmental responsibility, and considers them from beginning to end in her process. If you’re looking for insight on how to incorporate your core values more fluidly into your own work, we think her words will resonate in a big way.—Angela

Before running your own creative studio, you worked with some larger fashion brands. How does your process differ now that you’re running your own business?
Working for big fashion brands has taught me lessons that are so incredibly fundamental about the how-to’s of building and running a successful business. I learned about the things that work, and more importantly about what doesn’t work. It allowed me to fail and make mistakes with multiple safety nets, something that’s not as safe to do when you’re running your own show.

The greatest privilege about being my own boss is that I set and follow my own values: mindfulness, community, environmental responsibility. When designing for a bigger organization, especially in the fashion industry, some personal compromises might have to be made for the greater good of the company. A designer’s job is ultimately to be attuned and adapt to a market and a consumer, and that might not always align with your own creative vision.

Being a value-driven designer is gratifying and gives an immense sense of purpose that may not be easily attainable when working for a brand that’s motivated by sales and numbers more than making a positive impact.

Another big plus about being a small business is how much more personable it gets. Getting to know customers, hearing their stories and understanding their needs and interests. Aside from the fact that it helps me greatly to fine-tune my work, it’s so rewarding to know there’s a real person who I’m creating for, rather than ambiguous data in a chart.

You’ve mentioned “recycling as a last resort”. What role does waste and recycling play in your business?
Problem solving is a fun exercise in creativity. It’s so important to me that I give thought to what materials I’m using and their impact on the user, the work and the environment. Rethinking purpose or end-use is a resourceful tool to optimize those materials and make sure they’re not being mindlessly discarded. It’s also a way to differentiate the product and offer an unusual or surprising element to aspects of design we might take for granted like merchandising, packaging and more. By upcycling and repurposing I’m eliminating the need to use virgin materials, and at the same time extending the lifecycle of the ones that I do choose to reuse.

Eliminating waste is also a key component of staying sustainable, and actually starts at the beginning of the creative process, way before considering to upcycle or repurpose.

Being mindful is huge for me as a designer as well as an individual, and it often means being aware of a project’s needs and sticking to a plan. Upcycling, repurposing and recycling are all symptom-based design tools. They address the issue long after it originated. What we all really should be doing in the first place is act with intention and pay attention to generating any excess we may at later encounter as a by-product of the design process.

How many fashion brands think about the waste issue before they even begin? That’s what we need to be doing. See more of Sivan’s work at sivanilan.com and on Instagram or Etsy.