Malignant Eye Boogers

She's going to kill me for doing it, but I simply MUST post the response I received from my friend Rene about the 3D glasses:

I will hold onto mine (the ones that I don't even have yet because I haven't been to the movie).

I simply don't trust some movie house worker to sanitize them properly, or even at all. In fact, I am assuming they will roll them around in the popcorn bin and then they will hand them right over to the next person, who probably has some case of psoriasis from which I will develop a case of contact dermatitis the second I put said glasses on. The kind of dermatitis that makes the dermatologist say, "Well, it might go away but I recommend taking a 3 month course of antibiotics to really knock it out of your system."

Or worse yet, a professional football player may have worn the glasses right before me and then handed them back to this same lame movie house worker with a stiff case of MRSA attached to the glasses, ready to jump airborne right into my eyeballs.

I could go on about all the ailments I could get, but bottom line: I'm keeping my glasses. I have a good history of this. I had a 3-D book when I was little and kept the glasses until I went to college and my mother made me clean out my room.

She had me at MRSA.

So...humor me for a minute. How CAN we solve the Case of The 3D Glasses? I realize it's wee tiny and generally insignificant, but I'm interested in wee tiny problems. They're solvable. And they always lead to something bigger.

a call sheet + a call to action

I don't know if you've noticed, but HOLY COW PANTS it's been raining hard over the last couple weeks/days/hours/minutes. Perfect weather for sequestering oneself in a dark room with hundreds of little kids in 3D glasses, as HCB and I did at a recent showing of Coraline.

I'm not going to say too much about the movie itself. I think reviews tend to steal the soul of the creative endeavor. But HOLY COW PANTS you should go see this one, if only for the visual thrill. This newfangled 3D technology is a big part of it. As the movie is transporting you to this fantastical alternate world, the 3D is plopping that world right into your lap. I was captivated.

...All the way up to the moment after the movie when we tried to give our glasses back to the usher and she looked at us like we were offering her a steaming turd pile.

There we were, all high on the experience, all excited by the way technology and creativity can come together to inspire, and suddenly WAAAAH WUUUUH.

Obvi I Googled as soon as we got home. I found this blog post saying RealD, the company who created the newfangled 3D technology, had started a glasses recycling program last fall.

Then I got on the horn.

First I called AMC Loews Metreon 16 and talked to a very kind, very nervous person who informed me that I was not the first patron to complain about this, that they were "working on" rolling out the recycling program, and that while they couldn't give me any hard dates, they assured me it would be available "soon".

Then I called AMC's California offices. The receptionist, bless her, was confused.

So I had her transfer me to the corporate office. That receptionist, bless her, was also confused. I finally got through to someone in PR and left a message.

Then I decided to go straight to the source: I left a message for RealD's PR department. And HOLY COW PANTS, they called me right back! I talked to a lovely guy named Eric who told me all about the recycling program - no hard data or dates (though he offered to get them for me), but it's already available in locations nationwide. The glasses are sanitized and repurposed whenever possible, and the remaining sets are sent for plastic recycling. But he also made an excellent point:

They want us to REUSE these glasses. Like, bring 'em back for the next movie.

For sure they ain't yer grandmama's pair. They're sturdy, comfortable, and *almost* stylish, like something Michael Stipe might've worn circa Radio Free Europe. Ahem:


[Yeah, so I'm six eyes. You got somethin' to say about it?]

With 14 RealD movies coming out this year and another 30-40 in the works, it's a safe bet that you really will have occasion to wear them again.

But the thing is, if I have to store them, remember where I put them, and then bring them BACK to the movies every time Pixar anthropomorphizes another water buffalo, I've got about a 0.2% chance of success. And I am the kind of nerdball who religiously carries a water bottle, tupperware, a travel mug and a cloth napkin on her person.

I think the theaters should hold onto them for us. Don't you? And shouldn't they sanitize them onsite, since that'll reduce the carbon expenditure?

Maybe we can help Eric make his recycling program more functional. Anybody got some ideas? If we can't have an effect on the economic stimulus plan(s), we might as well offer our smarts to somebody who'll listen.

Gives new meaning to the term "Burner"

I've found a new Internet resource to obsess over: Wattzon.com.

Basically, it's a much more specific carbon footprint calculator that boils your lifestyle down to the total units of power you consume - including all the watts it takes to make, transport and care for your stuff over its lifetime. (We're talking down to the toothbrush.) This is, of course, exactly the category that I and so many other people have often failed to consider, and predictably, it's a big fat slice of my pie:



Actually, given my penchant for travel and its ill effects, I was a teeny bit surprised to see that my stuff category is in fact my biggest vice. (Though 2010 may still be the Year of Going Nowhere.) That's exactly what makes this tool so smart: with quantifiable data, it's much easier to cut through the eco advice clusterfuck and focus on the slice that matters most for you. If your food category is huge but your commuting portion is tiny, it's probably better to put off the Prius purchase and start summoning your inner herbivore instead.

Or as Wattzon founder Saul Griffith says, just stop paying taxes (the "Government" slice). But hey, at least now we can hope Obama will do something positive with the cash.

Speaking of which, isn't it wonderful to wake up every day to NPR saying "This morning, President Obama vowed to shut down Guantanamo / bring the troops home / allow California to set tougher emissions standards / cure cancer / save the baby animals / buy me a cookie"?

The way to my heart? Through my t-shirt.

A friend gave me an Alternative Apparel tee before Christmas, and it fits me like a glove. It seems the Longest Torso in America (me) may have a secret twin who is AA's fit model.


[I wear mine with fingered gloves - and a bomber jacket. Colder flight pattern.]

After three days without even CONSIDERING taking it off, I:
1. was obsessed
2. went to the website
3. discovered an organic line AND an Eco line; became more obsessed
4. couldn't help but wonder whither the cotton came from
5. sent an Inquiring Minds email
6. waited
7. neglected to check my someonemightcare email address
8. waited in vain

I finally took a stroll through my in-box this week and found a friendly missive from Erin, Alternative Apparel's Product Specialist. I told her what I wanted to know, and here's what she sent back:

For our Alternative Earth line, anything that states that it’s 100% organic cotton is certified organic cotton. Our organic cotton is currently sourced from New Mexico, Thailand, and Peru, and we keep copies of the organic certificates on file. All our Eco-Heather and Eco-Vertigrain styles have partially recycled and partially organic threads alongside our traditional ones to keep the softness that we’re known for. When we’re able to create a 100% sustainable heather blend that’s as soft as our other products, we’ll definitely start producing it. Also, none of the dyes we use in our Alternative Earth line contain heavy metals or toxic substances and are not petro-chemically based. They have a higher rate of absorption so less dye is needed to color the fabric and in turn less water is used to rinse them. At our dye-houses, a water filtration system clears the used water of excess chemicals, toxins, and dyes, and cycles the water for reuse.

The rest of our line is produced using traditional methods with an emphasis on fair labor practices. Alternative is not currently Certified Fair Trade, but all of our factories abide by the Fair Labor Standards. The Alternative Earth line was introduced as a transition from the traditional apparel to a sustainable line, and one day we hope to complete the transition. In the meantime we’re taking a step in the right direction and doing the best we can.

Please let me know if you have any more questions! Thank you so much, and have a great day!

Man I love good customer service.

Now, am I advocating the purchase of new t-shirts if you don't need them? No.

Am I saying Alternative Apparel is the number one most sustainable t-shirt you could ever possibly own? No. I haven't gotten my PhD yet.

Did Erin just breed a ton of goodwill for the brand and a hefty order from me? Absolutely.

Let's Play 'Do I need this ______?'

So my new buying plan is...challenging. I've walked into at least 20 stores downtown, asking every salesperson in sight about the origins of their products. Most know very little but are happy to ask their managers. Said managers are often useless. Websites almost NEVER provide details of this sort. Emailing/calling customer service reps seldom never elicits a response.

I could - I want to - dedicate my life to figuring out where my stuff comes from, but I do have like a real job and whatnot. So I've had to rely more heavily on my secondary criteria, being:

Do I need this thing?
Is it EXACTLY the one I want?
Is it classic enough, and quality enough, that I will have it for a long, long time?

I am known in certain retail circles for my keen eye and lightning judgment, but this is a lot of pressure to put on every single garment. Add the fact that we're in the tail end of mega-sale season, and one could (okay, did) loiter in the young designer's section of Neiman Marcus well past closing to weigh the pros and cons of her Last Call finds.

So now, whenever possible, I add the Rene Factor. To whit:

ME: Do I want this wallet? It boasts many attractive features, including the fact that it's 60% off. Plus, I like shiny anaconda. And I've never had a wallet this fancy before.



RENE: I'm going thumbs down. Trendy and not going to wear well. I'm just sayin...

ME: Thank you! That's exactly what I needed to hear. My inner blackbird was transfixed by the shiny leather, but in truth, the hardware isn't doing it for me. Ultimately, it was the cheapness factor that put me in a quandary.


Between Rene and my shopping gene, I have a lot going for me. But I might have to supplement it with a PhD in Environmental and Labor Policy.

Dear Prps,

I bought them.



Over the weekend, I found myself in drove myself to ab fits and there they were, just as I imagined them: rough and tumble yet perfectly cut, aggressively washed yet believable on the body, and offering a fit that could accommodate the occasional meatball Tofurkey sandwich. Not to mention the incredible(!) quality of the denim. They're the kind of jeans you have forever and ever, which goes a long way to making them a sustainable product.

But you know what sealed the deal for me? This African guy on your hangtag.



I figure any company that's featuring a tribal personage as a branding element - in addition to the continent of Africa -



must be doing something positive for the people there. I mean aside from just buying their cotton. Right? (Please tell me I'm right.)

Sincerely,
your most annoying customer

I'm on hold.

In the last two weeks, I've made very friendly, non-threatening sustainability-related inquiries with Diestel Family Turkey Ranch, Prps Goods, and Alternative Apparel (more on that one later).

No one has responded yet. I realize it's the holidays, but if I don't hear back before the New Year, I'll be forced to go aggro on them. You just don't mess with former Nordstrom employees, if you know what's good for you. We don't take lackadaisical service lying down.

Nooooo!!! YESSSSSSS!!! Nooooo!!! Yes?

On my way to Pilates last week, I notice a storefront on Gough Street spray-painted with the logos for ab fits and Gimme Shoes, along with an emphatically fonted WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF! I sigh wantonly and shuffle past.

During Pilates this week, my trainer Joanna busts out a raglan/blouson/hot action L.A.M.B. sweatshirt. I say "Cool sweatshirt!" She says, "Thanks! I got it at this warehouse sale around the corner for $5." A conversation ensues during which I become convinced that ab fits has suffered so much from my year of not patronizing them that they have been forced out of business. So now I'm not only missing the WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF!, but I also have to comprehend a 2009 in which my favorite ever boutique is no longer.

Consumed with fear, I drive down Grant Street while in North Beach the next day. The sign is down and there's nothing in the window. I begin to hyperventilate.

Two days ago, I take to the web for confirmation. There is talk of the WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF!, but no tearful goodbyes.

I decide to call them. A cheerful denim geek answers the phone. I tell him of my fears. He inquires as to whether I have been hiding under a rock for several months. Just about. Turns out the ab fits downtown closed 8 months ago along with its Gimme Shoes counterpart, hence the WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF! The original Grant Street location is still very much open. I sigh with relief and tell him I will likely see him in January, as I am in need of a pair of boyfriend jeans. (Yes yes, I said I wasn't Jonesing for them but I am. Sue me.) He says they have the original Katie Holmes pair, Prps, in the store right now and in fact, IT'S GOING TO BE ON SECRET INSIDER 30% OFF SALE ALL WEEKEND. This will bring the price down from a lofty $297 to $210. In January, it goes back up to $297.



I begin to hyperventilate again. I tell him about the Not New situation. I ask about organic cotton and fair trade. He answers knowledgeably (one of the reasons I love these people). I tell him I have to think about it.

And then I think of you, dear readers. And begin plotting.

Seems to me $87 is a pretty good reason to buy early, provided these really are EXACTLY the jeans I want. But before I even look them in the eyelet, I want to know everything about their manufacturing. From my internet research, Prps uses organic cotton sourced from Zimbabwe, then the denim is made and washed in Japan where working conditions are excellent. It's definitely an artisan jean. But I want to know more about this Southern Africa situation. I've sent Prps an email. I'll let you know what they say. And of course, feel free to say what you think as well.

Altercations with Southern California Grocery Professionals

Thanksgiving 08 is at my aunt Diane's house in Palm Springs. I love the desert. Peaceful and quiet and arid. Many scenic cacti. 80 degrees in the wintertime. And filled to the gills with The Aged and/or Gays' Awesome Mid-Century Detritus.

But it is also Southern California, so local produce is basically non-existent, and the organic options are limp, anemic and most likely Chilean.

Knowing this, I planned accordingly. My trusty Golf TDI and I traveled 505 miles yesterday with a cooler full of farmer's market veggies and a trunk full of Le Creuset. (And we still averaged 41 miles to the gallon!) The only thing I needed from the desert was some dairy prod and a turkey. A local gourmet chain down the street is offering a range of Diestel birds, a company with a great reputation for sustainability, so I ordered us a zaftig Heidi's Organic 14-pounder.

I went to pick it up this morning. Now, the last time I went to Southern California, I not only accosted a retail associate at an "eco" skincare boutique, I got kicked out of a "natural" a grocery store for taking this image of sad imported vegetables:



(Okay fine, so I stormed out after an innocent teenaged deli counter employee was sent to ask me to stop taking pictures and I responded with snide remarks and a barrage of petulant inquiries regarding their store policies. Something to the effect of "Oh I'm sorry, I thought this was a free country!" I sure showed him.)

I was hoping for a better result this time, but alas. We showed up early - it was just us and one other lady at the meat counter. The guy spent several minutes rummaging around the back for our turkey, and then presented me with one that was four pounds smaller than I ordered. I kindly sent him back. He rummaged around some more and returned with one a pound heavier, saying it was the largest organic bird he had. Though mildly irritated, I kindly sent him back once more, telling him I would settle for non-organic if I could get the extra poundage. More rummaging ensued, and finally he returned with a suitable bird. And then he got sassy with me:

HIM: You know, this turkey is the exact same bird as the one you were buying. All Diestel turkeys are organic. They just pay to have the Heidi's birds certified so you'll pay more for them.

ME: Are you sure about th...

HIM: Yep. Free range. No hormones, no antibiotics.

ME: Yes, I know all about Diestel's growing policies. But there's a difference between organic feed and non-organic fe...

HIM: It's the exact same feed.

ME: Yeah, okay. I'm going to have to consider that unsubstantiated.

He then proceeded to point me to BOUILLON CUBES when I asked for housemade chicken stock. I'm calling bullshit on his ass. And then I'm calling Diestel.