The C® Project Blog

Gone Shopping

2009-03-19T16:33:00.003-04:00

I had a meeting in the city yesterday, (I've recently been made fun of for calling it that. Have I become a total hick?) and since it was a gorgeous afternoon I decided to take a stroll down Broadway in Soho and do a little shopping. It's been a long time since I've done that.

It's really, really hard. I had forgotten about how crowded the streets and stores are, and definitely how expensive everything is. I specifically was looking in Best Buy for headphones (which I haven't had since my old pair died last April) and jeans at Uniqlo (remember when I lost about 12 pounds when I started this project? Well, I still don't have pants that fit me right, except the nearly shredded pair I stole from my boyfriend, and those are covered in goat manure at the moment). I really felt like a fish out of water. Not that it's completely foreign to me to buy something and not know who made it -- I did live in the real world for 30 years before starting this project -- but the process by which I would make these consumer decisions is not a comfortable one.

I went home empty handed.

Milk Makers at Sprout Creek Farm

2009-03-16T22:49:00.006-04:00

What an amazing way to wrap up the project. Friends and I drove up to Poughkeepsie, New York, on Thursday night, where I participated in the Rusty Bucket Series at Sprout Creek Farm by giving a presentation to the farm workers and neighboring community members about my consumer project and my design practice. As an educational farm, my message fit in with their mission of teaching school kids and adults alike about the value of understanding the efforts and dedication involved in producing their most basic necessities. Jumping at the opportunity to spend time on a working dairy farm, and celebrate my 31st birthday in a unique way, the four of us stayed through the weekend in a cottage on the farm, participated in chores and explored the area.

First off, I have a new found appreciation for goats. I'm not even kidding, they're remarkable creatures! We learned to milk them with the farms' new pneumatic equipment, fed the yearlings (young goats who have not yet had babies and therefore not ready for milking), and playing with the kids who were aged 2 days to 2 weeks old. Only Joe was brave enough to climb under one of the giant manure-machines of a cow, but we both shoveled some of their nastier by-products. And last but not least, we fed the chickens and ducks and collected their eggs. All this under the care of some wonderful farm workers, who we got to know fairly well over the four days. From Jesse, the lactose-intolerant gluten-allergic bread baker; to Rebecca the urban-transplant educator who had invited me up, who regaled us with tales of slaughtering turkeys and taking up the farm's gardening on top of her other chores; Margo, one of the three Sisters (I don't know why they never called them nuns....) who started the farm in 1982 on the grounds of their school in Greenwich, CT, when they came to the conclusion that they were part of a system that was raising a generation of B.S. artists, and then moved it all to its current location in 1990; Meredeth who runs the market, who was a student of Margo in the 80s and had been living in Virginia working in advertising with Margo offered her the job marketing the farm; and Bonnie, the young Bard College graduate who lives in a suped-up trailer just off the farm who patiently taught us goat-milking and shared her quest to adopt and raise one of the goats on her own.

On the merits of fun, personal growth and education, spreading what I've learned thus far to a willing audience, and capping the project with experiences that surpassed what I could have expected, I could not have had a better weekend. More to come on where I take it from here....

March Catch-up and End of the Year Thoughts

2009-03-10T21:53:00.002-04:00

This has been a crazy month, in many ways. My design practice has really been taking off, I've begun working at a wonderful co-working space in Downtown Brooklyn, and I've made wonderful connections that include an official sit-down with one of the owners of my newest favorite coffeeshop (which was my 'office' until I started working at the Treehouse) and presentation to a great group of visual arts students at Bennington College in Vermont.

I've been a regular at Flying Saucer on Atlantic Ave in Boerum Hill since I went out on my own in October, immediately getting to know Nick, Rob, and Akhila, among others -- the daily counter staff. It's a warm, friendly neighborhood joint that feels like a living room, has free wireless, cheap refills, and a small army of us independent workers that take advantage of it all. When I started hosting the Brooklyn Likemind, it was no-contest that I would hold it at Flying Saucer. I had also met Emily and Ivan, a young couple who seemed to be in charge, but it was only recently that I realized they were the managing owners. I sat down with Emily a couple weeks ago and told her about my project and got the full scoop from her. She's younger than I had even imagined, and previously working in the criminal justice industry in the Bronx, it turns out they're almost accidental owners. Brought in by a couple who owns a number of local businesses, including the bar down the street, Emily and Ivan run the day to day business, and are looking into buying the shop outright soon. They've designed the menu, and the space. Oh, and the living room feel? Apparently the coffeehouse looks just like their living room at home.

Just a few days later, Joe and I drove up to Bennington, Vermont. Just following the NPR piece about my project, I had been invited up to talk to a class there about design, consumption, production routes, and manufacturing chains. If I didn't know better, I'd think the course was designed just for me to come speak to it! I presented for nearly 2 hours and excitedly incorporated all of my interests, including the awareness, reflection, and actions we can engage in as designers promoting community over commodities (my new tag line, of sorts). I'll give a similar presentation as part of the Rusty Bucket Series at Sprout Creek Farm in Poughkeepsie later this week.

And so it is on this Poughkeepsie farm, milking goats and cleaning barns, that I will turn 31 and come to the theoretical end of my consumer experiment. I've been asked many times what I will do then, and if I'm excited to run out and buy whatever I want, blindly and wantonly. I'm not sure of the exact next step, but I know these habits and this passion that I've found over the last 12 months is not about to disappear. And though I might allow myself to buy some Q-Tips and new work-appropriate footwear, I don't think this is the end of my project.

Plotting the Project

2009-02-10T01:11:00.011-05:00

Here is an early draft, mapping the places where I have made connections over the past eleven months. I'm working on getting photos and stories up for each location, and I'd love to get your thoughts and feedback. Tool around here, or click for below for full-size map and list of points.

Full-Size Map

We've Secretly Switched Their Regular Roommate

2009-01-27T11:03:00.003-05:00

In a decision brought about by both faltering finances and a growing yearning to live in a community setting, I gave up my studio apartment in Brooklyn Heights this past week and moved into a three-bedroom duplex with two roommates whom I don't know at all. Though I'm just two and a half months away from the looming March 15th end of this consumer experiment, I'm curious to see what kind of wrenches this throws in. When I was on my own, I could completely control what I bought and brought into the house, now I'm going to be living with folks who have their own set of routines and habits, and little or no inkling to make the drastic changes and challenges I have over the past year. In fact, I don't think they even know about it yet, not really.

The easiest way to look at it, an angle I've had to take a few times over the year, is that I can only worry about goods that I physically exchange money for. If a roommate buys Clorox Clean-Up instead of Seventh Generation All-Purpose Cleaner, I wouldn't worry about it. At the same time, I feel the pull to not make excuses or exceptions. As I've tried to do in previous situations where it just didn't work, I stop to understand the situation and learn from it rather than rationalize the circumstances. Does this mean that I don't share anything with the other roommates, or at least not anything that they've purchased? Hm. Maybe it's time for a roommate meeting.

Listen In: C® on NPR Today

2009-01-13T14:46:00.008-05:00

Rebecca Sheir's piece about the Consume®econnection Project is going to be aired this afternoon on National Public Radio's All Things Considered. In New York that's WNYC 93.9 FM from 4-6pm (slotted to be on around 4:40pm). You can find your local station here.

Update: Listen Now on NPR.org

Why Does It Feel So Good?

2009-01-05T11:07:00.005-05:00

I've tried to avoid giving (and getting) typical Christmas gifts. In the past I've printed teeshirts for my family, hand-made a set of building blocks for a newborn nephew, found Picasso and Eleanor Roosevelt dolls for my brother's kids, strung together a hundred dvds to present a Netflix account to my parents, and formatted a years worth of email exchanges between my boyfriend and I into a hand-stitched paperback book. This year was considerably more difficult, mostly because everything involved spending some amount of money, and because requisite gift-giving really started to seem ludicrous. I wanted new experiences with friends, not find something to give them because I had to.

It was also a challenging year for people who wanted to give presents to me. I was asked several times if I expected folks to know who made anything they were going to give to me. While I certainly wasn't going to 'require' it, I surely encouraged it. A few family members really took it to heart, and went out of their way to find locally-produced or socially-progressive gifts. My grandmother sent oranges and grapefruits local to her Palm Beach home; an aunt visited an artisan kitchen and sought out locally made jams, cookies and sauces in a handmade basket.

Knowing I'm also an avid swimmer and have begun training for a sprint triathlon this spring, my parents and brother wanted to help me with purchases I need in order to train but couldn't make myself. They gave me generous gift cards to Paragon Sports, a local independent athletics store in Union Square. I immediately made contact with the store and hope to be invited in to learn more about it and meet the folks who work there. In the meantime, however, my shorts are so threadbare I decided to let myself buy one new pair with their gift this weekend.

The shopping trip into the city was combined with a search for picture frames with Joe, which turned into a couple stops at art stores and at Muji. It hit me hard that this was the first real shopping excursion I had been on in a very long time. It was a rush of familiar feelings, wandering aisle upon aisle, picking products up and looking them over, reading price tags, thinking about what's on sale, comparing one store's offerings to another. It honestly felt like a guilty pleasure. I hated it, but it was so easy and strangely comforting. And when I finally made it to the register to check out after agonizing over the swim shorts, it somehow made me feel good about myself for a hot minute. Like I had power because I could buy something, or something.

I wondered what is it about 'retail therapy'. When I'm feeling down, why does it feel so good to go buy things? Even for someone who shuns shopping? But then I biked back to Brooklyn, wore the new shorts for 30 laps in the pool, and found a note from friends when I got home, thanking me again for the wedding invitations I designed for them. And I remembered that there are other things I've learned to do to make myself feel better that are lighter on my wallet, healthier for my body, and better for my community.

Balancing Production

2008-12-20T13:58:00.008-05:00

Despite bracing for the New England's first big snow storm of the year, I had a great visit yesterday to the New Balance shoe manufacturing plant in Lawrence, Massachusetts. Accompanied by a public radio journalist–decked out in head phones, recorder, and mic–who is working on a piece about this project, I piled in a friend's car and headed north. Though it had taken about a month to work out logistics and schedules, everyone at New Balance that I came in contact with has been incredibly welcoming and accommodating. In fact, they aren't actually set up to provide public tours, but as the only athletic shoe manufacturer left in the United States (they make 25% of their footwear here in Lawrence and in three other locations in Maine and Boston) they were sympathetic to my mission and pulled out all the stops.

We were actually shown around by Claudio Gelman, plant manager of this facility for the past 13 years. An Argentinian by birth, Claudio came to Framingham, MA, as a high school exchange student and fell in love with the state. After getting his engineering degree in Israel, he moved back, got married, and settled in. As plant manager, he is passionate about the process of making shoes effectively and efficiently, down to finding the last hundredth of a second that can be shaved from the production time. I was once again amazed at how hands-on the process is, with highly skilled individual line workers manning presses and sewing machines to get every detail right in the shortest amount of time. Though Claudio told us that most of 'his people' had been there for 15+ years, I wondered how such a tight ship could be a pleasant enough place to work, until we were about to head out and we heard a crackling PA system come to life with a worker's unscripted rendition of Silent Night, followed by an off-key Feliz Navidad. Every worker on the floor laughed and hollered, grinning from ear to ear. All while working fingers and machines, not missing a beat.

Getting Carded

2008-12-08T10:41:00.009-05:00

As things get rolling with my design work (click "Studio" above), it's become clear that I am in desperate need of some new updated business cards. I was spinning my wheels trying to figure out how getting these cards was going to fit into the consumer project, when I came across Virgil O. Stamps, a local letterpress printing company that is all about customization and unique products. With some snooping, I was able to meet up with his collaborator, designer Sarah Coffman of minus-five. Turns out that Sarah lives in my neighborhood!

We met up for coffee one afternoon about a week or so ago and she told be about moving from Texas to New York and bouncing from job to job before hooking up with the Virgil project. A few days later she took me out to the studio in New Jersey, a virtual wonderland for a designer as it's strewn about with metal type alphabets, ancient-looking letterpress machines, type samples and specimens, developing negatives clothespinned up, and cartons of chipboard and printed projects ready to go out. She walked me through the whole process of exposing designs onto film to make the negative, then exposing the chemically-treated plate to the negative, which basically burns away everything that's not to be printed. Amazingly cool nerd-science. This week I'm headed back out to learn the printing part of the process by working on my own set of cards.

On a much sour-er note: I've got some back-peddling to do as I was forced to break the project on Friday night. Earlier in the day, my life-blood–otherwise known as my MacBook Pro notebook computer–was stolen from my locker at the YMCA where I swim everyday. After much deliberation and hand-wringing, I got a loan and went to Tekserv to replace it. Thanks to frequent back-ups, I was able to restore everything and get back on track. It's incredibly unfortunate, on so many levels, and I'm going to do my best to pursue the production chain. Advice/assistance very welcome.

'Interesting' Update

2008-11-19T12:28:00.004-05:00

Interesting? You tell me. Here's a clip of my presentation at the 2008 Interesting:NY conference in September. Unfortunately, you can't see my slides. Maybe someone out there can offer some video editing expertise and we can splice the slides in somehow? I don't know. Anyway - here I am...
Update: With the help of the esteemed Jeff Zemetis, my slides are now included in the video.

Consume®econnection Project at Interesting:NY from Scott Ballum on Vimeo.

When Friends Intervene

2008-11-09T14:27:00.005-05:00

Yesterday, my friend Jeff and I spent a rainy Saturday afternoon playing foosball at Apartment 138 in Boerum Hill. Though it was the first time we had hung out in their game room, it is a restaurant that we used to frequent before this project started, mostly for their cheap sliders and jalapeno margaritas. I guess some of my friends still go without me (and I have attended a big dinner there while sneaking in my own vegetable turnover from Body & Soul) but I guess they miss it and have become fed up with my limited dining options. Jeff had been introduced to the chef before when he had been toying with the idea of picking up some waitstaff shifts, but yesterday he went to the bar without me and, apparently, asked to see the chef.

His bold move went over well, and within twenty minutes a skinny young guy in his thirties with longish hair and a goatee came over to check in on our game. I looked at Jeff, understood immediately, and introduced myself. Simon is the head chef of Apartment 138, and joined as partner a little after the restaurant opened 4 years ago. Originally from Key West, he worked his way up from dish washer to sous chef before deciding to brave a move to New York, figuring having both Key West and New York on his resume would get him a job just about anywhere else he wanted. Little did he know how well, and how quickly, it would work out. And now that he's head chef, building the menu for 138 and now for their sister bar in Williamsburg, he's stuck for a while. Things could be worse, I think.

Simon was incredibly welcoming and forthcoming with stories about his small kitchen, and I think plenty happy to have a new (returning) customer. Jeff and I celebrated with a slider.

A New Day

2008-11-05T01:38:00.003-05:00

It certainly seems to change everything. Congratulations, America, on the election of Barack Obama our 44th President. How far we've come in such a brief period of time. Change can happen so much quicker and more dramatically than we sometimes give ourselves credit for.

The Elephant in the Blog

2008-11-03T11:44:00.006-05:00

When I started this experiment in March, it was a side project, sort of a hobby almost. Something I did with my spare time on weekends and sneaking in emails and phone calls when I could while at work. I was aided by the fact that I was a in a senior position at the design studio where I worked, so my time was fairly flexible and they were extremely supportive and understanding. I've been accused by people who don't know me of being a rich kid with too much time on his hands, which couldn't have been further from the truth.

As I began to think so critically about where everything I might consume was coming from, I couldn't help but begin to think more critically about how all of my actions impacted to world around me. Where did my trash go? Where did my taxes and votes go? And what was it that I was producing as a designer, and how did that have an effect on my social and cultural environment? I had already shied away from advertising, and I had refused to do branding or design work with a strictly commercial impact, but even the work I was being asked to do, as benign as it may have been, was starting to feel inconsequential. Was it enough to not use my skills for evil? What about turning it around and only doing what I felt was good?

So the short story is that a month ago I left the design studio I once worked full time for and launched my own endeavor, determined to find work which I felt was making a positive social and cultural impact. I also assumed this would free up more of my time, or at least make it even more flexible, to pursue meetings and travel for the Consume®econnection Project.

I can't say it has made life any easier yet -- the economic downturn has severely limited the number of design jobs for non-profit organizations, and this project has proven far more costly than I expected. I've been thrilled by the interest it has garnered, but there's not exactly money in it, and all of the travel has added up. Nonetheless, I'm keeping at it as long as possible, and have made inroads at New Balance in Boston and reached out to Patagonia in recent weeks! The spirits and determination are still up, but I thought that since this is all about how this lifestyle is effecting me, I should disclose such a major turn!

Now back to work, at my local coffee shop of course.

Quando a Roma

2008-10-02T12:04:00.007-04:00

God where have I been? I know it's been a while since I posted about my project (though you'll notice I have been keeping the news roll going), but September was a pretty amazing month, both for the project and personally.

I kicked it off by speaking at the Interesting New York conference, hosted by Open Intelligence Agency at FIT. It's the first time I've got up to speak in front of a large group about what I'm doing, and the first time I've really put together a series of visuals to accompany the talking. It was great mid-point status report for myself, and a great platform for reaching out to other like-minded folks. I made a number of connections with really interesting (obviously) people that I hope I can stay in contact with. Any chance I have to show people the feasibility of making conscientious consumer choices is great.

And then... I went to Italy. I wasn't sure how the project was going to come into play while in a foreign country whose language I speak very (very) little of. I knew I could avoid purchasing anything superfluous, certainly no touristy souvenirs probably made in China, but how could I eat? I reversed the usual strategy of meeting the folks first, and just made the effort to connect with the waitstaff, cooks, grocers, bartenders, espresso makers (oh my God the espresso) as best I could. Luckily, my boyfriend is even chattier than I am, and we managed to make a lot of friends there. We returned to the same restaurants in Rome a few nights in a row and became short-term regulars, chatted with a waitress named Maria who had spent 9 awful years in "a place called Columbus, Ohio", and had amazing one-sided conversations in Italian with an old woman in giant hat who sells produce in a working-class coastal town called Minori. The wines were local, the vegetables grown all around us, and the pasta made by hand. I'm not exaggerating when I say everything tasted better knowing who was making it.

With a little effort, making connections anywhere is so easy and fun. Leaving the stunning ancient "old country", less so.

Halfway There

2008-09-01T16:51:00.001-04:00

As I near the mid-point to what is intended to be a one year experiment, I’ve found myself re-visiting what it is I’m trying to accomplish and what makes this exercise different than others I’ve been inspired by.

The Localism and Organic movements are really remarkable and I love what they do in support of local economies and entrepreneurs. I’ve found myself along similar tracks with these efforts, and love that it has some of the same effects, but I do need to remember that this is not necessarily my underlying goal. In my attempts to be conscious of the things I would typically buy, and then follow those production lines back, I’ve found myself needing to make substitutions and compromises just to survive. I would be very excited about getting in to a factory that manufactures parts for Apple computers, or Converse sneakers, or furniture for that matter, but international companies like these don’t seem to have the avenues for this type of inquiry. And so I’ve been tracking those that have the infrastructure set up to support it–mainly local and/or socially-sustainable companies whose physical locations and organizing ideologies make them accessible.

American Apparel in Los Angeles is the first international manufacturer of it’s size I’ve made connections with (Makers Mark, Seventh Generation and Toms of Maine have global distribution but on a smaller scale) and I’m hoping as momentum builds I’ll have opportunities to continue exploring these types of mass-produced commodities, just as I continue to meet ambitious local artisans.

Made in Downtown Los Angeles

2008-08-29T14:12:00.005-04:00

This project is taking all sorts of exciting turns. The most recent took me to Los Angeles to meet with the guys at GOOD Magazine. GOOD has been a tremendous supporter since the very beginning, posting about the experiment back in April, and then writing a short piece in the September issue. While this blog will continue to chronicle my experiences traveling and meeting the individuals who make anything that I purchase, they’ve asked me to begin writing for their site as well, profiling the people I meet. More on that in the coming weeks!

As if coming to LA and putting faces and people behind a magazine that I subscribe to was not enough, I also took the opportunity to go to the American Apparel factory right in the downtown industrial area. Admittedly, I don’t tend to shop at their stores much, but a few things made this a relevant and necessary stop. Number one, I needed to allow myself the opportunity to get some new clothes – particularly shorts and jeans. To the best of my knowledge, American Apparel is one of the very few ‘basics’ manufacturers left in this country, and since LA is more accessible at this time than China, it made logistical sense. At the same time, most independent teeshirt designers doing work for local bands or organizations, are printing on AA’s cotton shirts. I have several, and plan to do more work like this myself soon.

I had heard about AA’s sweatshop-free manufacturing, of course, but I also had a heard a rumor that a lot of their goods were now made somewhere else (Mexico? China?) so I was not sure what to expect. I was pretty surprised to learn that every product is made right there in their seven story converted railroad factory. Despite controversy surrounding their advertising, their working conditions and treatment of their employees is pretty fantastic. Everyone from senior management to product developers, right down to the sewers and distribution workers are right there in the same building, encouraging interaction in the elevators and cafeterias. They’ve come to understand that putting a human face on production within their own company greatly benefits everyone. It’s hard to run a sweatshop if the owners ride the elevator every morning with the immigrant workers.

I got a two hour tour and personal treatment from Shawn, a young web-strategest-slash-all-around-assistant who is incredibly passionate about the company, their work for Legalize LA, vertically-integrated manufacturing, and the concept that they are a business first-and-foremost, not a charity, but treating people well and supporting local initiatives just makes sense.

Unexpected Encouragement

2008-08-24T22:56:00.007-04:00

Despite the quiet here for the past few weeks, quite a bit has been happening offline. I've been writing more (see the Editorial section for recent articles) and making contact with some fantastic people involved in social design and community projects. But on top of the usual challenges brought on by this project (a few more cutoff shorts, lots of trips to the Food Coop) and arranging for future visits (I'll be in Los Angeles next week and will get the chance to drop in the American Apparel factory), it's the interests this has stirred up in myself and in others has been really exciting.

It's really been encouraging when people from all over write that my project is thought-provoking or something that they would love to do. The idea behind this is to show that it's possible to make informed consumer decisions, so the more folks thinking about it, the better. But I'm also finding it surprisingly moving when my friends and family call to tell me that they've been inspired to make a connection, or take a considered approach that they wouldn't have otherwise. Just this weekend, a friend from Boston who I don't see enough, called to tell me that he's been following my progress and thinking of ways to help in the clothing arena, but then he told me that he's decided to take something on for his forthcoming 30th year as well – some personal challenge or social cause. Imagine if everyone took a year to re-examine a part of their lives more closely!

Then yesterday was my dad's birthday, and he and my mom took the afternoon off to celebrate. She called me to share the exhilaration they felt when they spontaneously pulled off a side road near their home in south eastern Massachusetts at a pumpkin patch. They chatted with the white-haired farmer who couldn't have been more pleased to show them around, pluck ears of corn straight from the stalk for them, pick vegetables and tell them all about his garden. They could only understand about 75% of his rich Italian accent, but he was loving telling these strangers about his passion and his story, and they were going to enjoy dinner knowing the hands that planted and cared for everything on their plates.

I truly believe that craving the knowledge of who and where everything comes from is infectious, it's really exciting to see it spreading.

Looking for Tips on Clothing Connections

2008-07-21T15:05:00.004-04:00

Even though the goal of this project was not to necessarily change my buying habits, but simply to make better (far better) informed purchases, a few months in I'm realizing how naive it was to think that making these connections was as as easy as wanting it. I've switched to almost exclusively locally grown produce and hardly any meat (because I cook for myself all the time now, and I basically just don't know how to cook meat). I buy all of my toiletries from the Coop, which means I have no need for corner bodegas and delis (with the exception of an occasional six-pack of Brooklyn Lager) or drug stores (with the exception of medicines, I'm not naive enough to think big pharma is going to welcome me into their factories and I can't wait a year for health care). And any new furniture or stuff for my apartment I build or reuse things I already have. Which I guess goes the same for clothing...

I started this project in early spring, when jeans and boots were fine everyday. It's now the apex of summer and I'm still wearing the boots. It's not okay. I've been chopping up old pants (including, yes, a pair of old jeans) to make a new crop of shorts for myself, but I haven't been so handy with "making" new shoes. And speaking of pants, between switching to a virtually vegetarian organic diet (and simultaneously taking up bicycling and swimming at the local Y) I've lost 15 pounds and none of my clothes fit me anymore.

I am looking for any tips or suggestions anyone might have for making connections within shoe/sneaker companies or clothing companies where I might buy myself a few new pairs of jeans (and maybe shorts!).

New England Visits: The Farmers

2008-07-09T09:20:00.007-04:00

The greatest “winging it” aspect of the trip was the plan to visit a farm or farms that supply produce to the Park Slope Food Coop. After experiencing reluctance (or outright refusal) to welcome visitors, the Coop wasn’t comfortable suggesting any of their farms. But they do list their suppliers on their website and with some creative internet stalking, I was able to track down the address of about a half dozen farms that were in southern Vermont and along the Hudson River Valley in New York. We crossed our fingers and started driving.

Our first attempt was the Harlow Brother’s Organic Produce Farm and Farmstand in Westminster, VT. We would learn later that the key was the farmstand, where they were at least set up to receive the public in some capacity. With some friendly greetings, we were introduced to Abby who, without much hesitation, offered us coffee and sat with us to chat. She admitted that she wasn’t psyched to hear that there were “two guys visiting from New York who wanted to talk to someone about the farm”, but when she saw we had no agenda or pretension she warmly and enthusiastically took us out on to the farm in her dusty pickup (with a screwdriver in the ignition). Abby was about our age, and had been a Vermont farm girl all her life. In fact, she and the other farm workers all live on or right near the farm’s land. The work eventually took it’s toll and she ruptured three discs in her back a few years ago and realized a career change was necessary. She just finished nursing school at a nearby college and will soon split her time between the farm and a local hospital. It seems unfortunate, as farming is clearly her passion.

She showed us the freshly planted herbs, giant heads of cabbage and yellow squash, rows of developing corn, and a field of flowers that they grow to maintain their cut-flower business catering primarily to the local wedding industry. Abby also explained to us Vermont’s exchange partnership with Jamaica. Ten Jamaican men come to live and work on their farm for the summer and fall months every year, and then return to their families in the winter. The program stipulates the men’s wages, which actually meant wages across the farm were raised when they began involvement with the program.

She then offered us a dip in their water hole, which was pretty idyllic, before sending us on our way with a bag of bright greens and soil-covered beets straight from the ground.

It was an extremely lucky first stop, as the other farms we dropped by were actually people’s homes and I didn’t have the gall to walk up and knock on their front door. As Joe said, the mission is to forge a connection with people, not piss them off.

New England Visits: The Environmentalist Chemist

2008-07-08T07:00:00.003-04:00

After saying goodbye to our Tom’s of Maine tour guide Cindy, with about a dozen complimentary toothpaste tubes tucked in our bags, we hit the road again for Burlington, VT. I had connected with Jay LeDuc, Senior Vice President of Operations at Seventh Generation, by phone a few months ago. He had then offered to show me around should I ever be in town. When I emailed him to take him up on the offer, he quickly wrote back letting me know he had made appointments for me with several members of the administration. What I didn’t know at the time was that of 300,000 customers, Joe and I were the first two to ever ask to come to their headquarters and meet the people who work there.

Seventh Generation’s products are made in their “Manufacturing Partners” factories, so we were headed to their administrative headquarters located on the second and third floors of an office building overlooking the Burlington coast of Lake Champlain. I was a bit discouraged by the corporate-ness of the building, but completely and pleasantly surprised by the comfortable, welcoming vibe of the Seventh Generation’s wing. The lobby is adorned with photos of their founder participating in civil disobedience rallies in D.C., and the Design of Dissent on the waiting room table. They have separate compost and recycling bins in the bathrooms, and not a suit and tie in sight.

We were greeted by Martin Wolf, Director of Product/Environmental Technology who showed us around and then sat us in a conference room. It was clear he wasn’t really sure what this “meeting” he had been scheduled for was all about, but when he figured out we were just customers who where there for a visit, he smiled and chatted with us for over an hour. He told us all about his environmental research consulting firm, living in Boston, and coming to work for Seventh Generation seven years ago. As the company's lead chemist, he has been responsible for designing the formulas for every cleaning product they make. A Brooklyn native, it took him a few years to appreciate the slow, easy pace of Burlington, but now embraces his bike ride to work along the lake and the socially and environmentally responsible company he works for.

Two anecdotes stood out. When we were joined by Penney Tudor, Director of Quality Assurance, they told us about the company’s various criteria for forging partnerships with manufacturers. Though all were rigorous and progressive, the most surprising was the inclusion of an evaluation of how factory workers’ salaries and benefits compare to those of the plants administration.

And my favorite reality-check from Martin: he had just returned from a conference discussing Sustainability in Manufacturing. He and many other speakers focused on environmental impact, recycling and reuse, and social responsibility such as the evaluation I just mentioned. Then a rep from Lockheed Martin took the stage. They have 100 workers on their production line, and have been making great strides at lowering their injury rate to below 400 incidents a year. In weapons manufacturing, apparently, sustainability just means keeping your employees alive.

New England Visits: The Factory Workers

2008-07-06T19:18:00.007-04:00

It’s been a week since my New England road trip and I’m just now getting around to posting about it. Partially because the rest of my life was sitting here waiting for me to catch up after being out of town, and partially because this is starting to feel more and more like just another part of my life, something that I do, and less like a crazy adventure. Though, really, when I sit back and think about it, it’s exactly both of those things.

Aspects of this excursion were planned months in advance, and some parts were completely fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants. We started by driving the 5 and half hours to southern Maine after work on Wednesday, pulling off Route 1 in The Yorks, a coastal town about an hour away from our morning appointment at the Tom’s of Maine factory in Sanford. I had scheduled myself in for the first tour of the season, 9:30 am Thursday morning. Tours of the factory only run through the summer months as they are hosted by Cindy, a first grade school teacher. She greeted us outside in the ‘herb garden’ where they grow examples of the types of herbs used to flavor their toothpastes and scent their deodorants. She then took us on an hour-long eye-opening tour of what can only be compared to the manufacturing process of Mr. Willy Wonka.

We started at the giant blenders that mix thousands of gallons of toothpaste, which is then shot through tubes along the ceiling into the room next door where six line-workers aid the laser-guided conveyor belts. Every two hours, workers shift to a new spot on the line to avoid fatigue, either right there on the toothpaste area or over onto the deodorant line. Rube Goldberg would be proud as deodorant sticks are skimmed by hair dryers (no joke, four hair dryers are perfectly positioned to blow off bubbles before the sticks are cooled and solidified) and bright orange discs which hold the sticks uprights are plucked off, carried high into the air, and roll thirty feet far above workers heads back to the start of the line.

We talked with a few of the workers, including John who has worked in the mixing room for 18 years. When he started, they were in a smaller facility in Kenebunk that was destroyed in a fire in 2004. As a rookie he was assigned the task of lifting and emptying 50lb bags of chalk into the mixers day in and out. Back then every ingredient was measured by hand and added individually. Now, massive scales and computers do most of the measuring but that hasn’t precluded getting their hands dirty. Despite hairnets, beard nets, aprons, eye goggles, and gloves, John’s family and friends can still make out what flavor he worked with that day. Nothing like going to the bank and having the teller pronounce, “Hi John, you guys mixing fennel today?”

We also spent time with the folks working on the floss packaging. Floss is the only product not made in the factory, but it is packaged and shipped there. This process is handled by a local community group home for adults with mental disabilities. We met Margaret, who is also blind, who folds together the tiny boxes, inserts the product info sheets and floss so they face the right way, and passes them to others who box and crate them for shipping. She and her housemates are right there in the middle of all the action, between the toothpaste line and the deodorant conveyor belts, all day three days a week for the past three years.

It was the first time I had ever seen how a factory works since I stopped watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood 25 years ago. Though it’s just another day for the folks who work there, it’s sort of wondrous to an outsider.

Farming is the Future, Man

2008-06-13T07:51:00.006-04:00

My typical shift at the coop is Sunday afternoons, usually working the coolers in the basement sending up crates of produce, cases of juice and boxes upon boxes of dry goods. This morning I had the opportunity to do the opposite: help fill those coolers back up.

When I told Allen Zimmerman, the Coop's produce buyer, that I was interested in meeting some of their farmers and delivery people, he suggested I come in early one morning when the folks from Hepworth Farms would be bringing by a shipment. Not only was I amazed by the quantity and variety coming off the truck, my sleep-busting efforts were well rewarded by Jay: an ex-LA recording artist and neo-farm loving truck driver extraordinaire.

He was a riot. Jay is from El Salvador by way of LA, who now lives in Upstate New York and works on Amy and Gerry Hepworth's Farm with his wife and daughter. He's as excited by juicing wheat grass or onions and apple juice ("gotta make it sweet"), as he is by the huge bundles of dark kale he carries ("this would be two bundles anywhere else, man, they love the Park Slope Coop. But it's bitter, man, anything good for you tastes bad, you know, but you juice it with apple juice to make it sweet"), to their program for kids in Harlem in which they set up a roof-top garden, teach them to grow tomatoes and other produce, and check in on them regularly ("kids love it man, you know, but they expect me to be in overalls"). Get people talking about something they're into and they don't stop. I heard about his mint and thyme plants, how to grow parlsey, that they donate extra crop to a church in New Jersey, that you can fool bees into pollinating apple trees nearly year round, and about his restaurants in LA and Florida.

Growing up in the self-sustaining agriculture community of El Salvador, he was taught that fruits and vegetables grew anywhere. He grandfather would tell him to plant a mango seed anywhere and in a couple weeks come back and there'd be a tree there. Though farming in the States is commerce-driven, and vegetables are planted in neat little rows not wherever you might feel like it, he maintains a desire for his daughter to know where food comes from. "Money comes and goes, but if you know how to farm, how to grow food, you're all set. You'll be good."

Bittersweet Ice Cream

2008-06-11T21:06:00.004-04:00

Sometimes it just falls into my lap, and just in time for summer. Joe and I are often on DeKalb Avenue in Fort Greene (Bonita and Urban Spring are both there) and he stopped into BitterSweet for ice cream after a slew of 90° days. I was pretty jealous because he can eat whatever he wants while I adhere to this crazy project. But as he was sampling the Coconut Vegan Ice Cream and Passionfruit Sorbet, we realized quickly that the woman standing with the hipster at the counter was the ice cream maker herself. Her Mexican accent was a struggle for me but my Texan boyfriend was able to keep up and "translate" when necessary. And he got us an invitation down to the basement where the ice cream is made. Dish of Coconut Ice Cream in hand, we followed her down.

Adriana works in the basement. Not a kitchen, not even a storeroom, it's a basement. One small fridge, one ice cream churner, a freezer of frozen passionfruit, and that's about it. But she seems to have a ball with it. As long as the flavor sells, she can make up whatever she wants (though it seems customers mostly just want vanilla and chocolate, much to her disapproval). It's one of two jobs she juggles as a single mother of a nine-year-old and a thirteen-year-old whom she just sent off to visit family in Mexico for the summer so she can spend more time working here and at a retirement home for women. Talk about bittersweet. Adriana has a big smile, teasing us about our lack of culinary skills and taunting us with ideas of Tequila Ice Cream and Avocado Ice Cream. As we walked back into the heat, she said "Someday you'll come back and make ice cream with me!"

If there is tequila and avocados involved, count me in!

On Press

2008-06-03T07:58:00.003-04:00

I've spent much of the last few weeks preparing for upcoming trips and events. As I have mentioned before, I've got a trip up through New England that I'm working out details for, and tomorrow I'll be at the Food Coop early early to meet the farmers and truckers who deliver their goods there.

What I haven't spent much time writing about, however, is how much energy I've suddenly found myself spending keeping track of, dealing with, and coordinating press. After a mention on GOOD Magazine's website a few weeks back, a storm of blog postings hit in a matter of days. I received phone calls from national television and newspaper outlets asking for details for possible stories. I was pilloried by arm-chair critics on a website known for its venom and sarcasm. (These are all on my Info page.) It was a roller coaster. Yes, I am thrilled and validated in seeing that what I'm doing is something people care about, and others think is as important as I do. But at the same time, I don't really just want to be a human-interest story on a couple rss-feeds that no one wants to talk to in six months or a year when the project really has legs and knows where it's going.

My biggest concern lies in how publicity is going to effect the project itself -- my ability to make a personal connection with a factory laborer or farmer. I haven't even been taking out my camera on most visits because the tone suddenly changes when someone feels they are being put on the spot. I can't imagine what a CBS Evening News camera crew would do to someone's nerves, never mind my own.

Do I think having coverage in the LA Times will help me get into bigger companies like Converse and Apple? Probably. Would I like to explore writing a book and think that this exposure could help that? Yes of course. But do I want to jeopardize the integrity of the project, or do I want to appear to prove the critics right that I am in this for some spotlight? Well, not so much.

It's a series of questions I never foresaw having to deal with, and something that everyone seems to have an opinion on. For disclosure, I'm forging a relationship with GOOD Magazine, which I feel is completely in line with my efforts. And I've been cooperating with LA Times, because, well, they're the LA Times. Who knows what opportunities will come out of an article there.

Things I'm learning along the way

2008-05-25T15:07:00.007-04:00

It's a gorgeous sunny 75° day in Brooklyn and I'm working at a friends house. She's preparing her PhD dissertation papers for publication, and I'm, well, blogging and reading "Days of War, Nights of Love" by CrimethInc. Have to love hi-brow and low-brow mixing like this. We needed a snack/sun break, and I haven't met any shop owners in her neighborhood so I suggested biking the mile or so to Fort Greene to Urban Spring. We stopped in and chatted with Gordon, introduced him to my friend Rachel, ordered some sandwiches and iced coffee, and then went off to show her the neighborhood and the new Fort Greene Flea Market. It was a longer break than perhaps she wanted, and it involved getting out her bike and not really knowing what the options were going to be when we got there. But aside from the food being great and the iced coffee fresh, it was worth the effort for me to walk in somewhere that I knew the owner and the back story, where I was greeted by name and with an acknowledgment that I had been there before and would be there again.

I guess that's a big part of the answer to "Why am I doing this?" that I get so often. Being aware of where my food and purchases come from allows me to be further involved and engaged in my decision to buy them. I know who I am supporting, and what goals I am helping them to achieve. And it allows me to be part of something bigger than myself and my own little world. I didn't just grab a snack today, I was part of Gordon's plan to create a neighborhood community and promote sustainable living; I was part of Harold's attempt to run a coffee bean business that he loves; and perhaps (I'm not sure if it was Nicaraguan coffee I drank or not) I was part of Mausi's mission to provide positive working and living conditions for her farm workers and innovative solutions for self-sustaining coffee farming.

Before starting this project, it was easy for me to think (or not think at all) that the things I bought sort of came into existence when I bought them, for the sake of me buying them. Knowing the stories and personalities involved in their creation blows that away.

Updating the site

2008-05-23T23:18:00.005-04:00

For those who are following by rss feed, I've added a new section relating to the project, The Register, and updated recent blog coverage in the News Roll.

Coming soon: Brownstone Beans brewer Harold Butler, and an early morning shift at the Food Coop to meet the delivery men and farmers.

Thanks for your support of this project!

A Nicaraguan in Brooklyn

2008-05-19T21:29:00.003-04:00

I can't believe it's taken me a week to get this up. One of the interesting side-effects of this project is that it actually gets me out more, gets me talking and gets me interested in people - and it make me busy. By the end of it all, it seems like a daunting undertaking to then log onto my computer to report about it. But, I promise to try to be better.

The exciting interaction that I alluded to last week was a spur-of-the-moment meeting with Mausi Kühl, owner of Selva Negra coffee farm in Central Nicaragua. She is a supplier to Harold of Brownstone Beans, whom I've been talking to off and on for a few weeks. Mausi was recently invited to the States by the Specialty Coffees Association of America to accept a Sustainability Award and present her methods to coffee growers and buyers across the country. Taking the opportunity to visit one of her daughters in Jersey City, she contacted Harold, who had gone to visit her and the resort she runs on her property in Nicaragua.

Harold, in turn, invited her to visit Urban Spring, and called up me and a few of his coffee-loving friends to meet her. It was a rare, exciting moment for me, to be talking with the grower (Mausi), producer (Harold), and retailer (Gordon) all in one place.

From the moment we were introduced, Mausi was a complete joy to talk with. A small, lively woman with gray streaked through her long black hair, she animatedly launched into a mini-version of her presentation for the few of us, boasting of how their farm has learned to reuse everything, from the water that cleanses the beans to the cow and human waste as compost. There is so much about coffee growing and processing I had never imagined -- like the fact that it is grown in the mountains under shade trees!

She is clearly proud of her farm, which employs 650-1000 seasonal workers, 300 year-round workers, including several generations of families. Quality of life is seen as good business, where workers receive food as part of their salary; the on-site school is mandatory for their children; visiting doctors regularly volunteer time at the clinic; and trade training (clerical, plumbing, and carpentry, as well as the farm duties) is offered for families of workers who then stay and work other parts of the farm, hotel and restaurant. The property is nearly entirely self-sufficient, and they are currently adding a water turbine which will generate 40% of their electricity.

But Mausi is most proud of her four daughters who live in Atlanta (running a coffee shop), Buffalo, Jersey City, and one with her in Nicaragua. Her 'presentation' included a segment on her granddaughter, a smiling 6 year old who saves orphaned birds and nurses them to health.

Local Produce, Local Buyer

2008-05-13T18:27:00.007-04:00

Today was a tremendous day for 'the project'. I was contacted a few weeks ago by Allen Zimmerman, Produce Buyer for the Park Slope Food Coop, who had first seen my blog on a Google Alert for the Coop, and then again on some recent press. He generously invited me in this afternoon and walked me through some basic 101s of his job. A particular thanks to Allen for his patience with my amateur 'journalism'!

Allen has lived in Brooklyn for 50+ years and has been involved with the Coop since the very first days when he became friends with Joe Holtz - the Coop's first employee - who convinced him to come on board in his current role in 1988. From the early years of buying mainly grains in bulk from Huntspoint (a drive-in farmers' market in the Bronx still active today), the produce section alone has grown to one which requires 220 decisions per day figuring out where everything will come from. From the start, the Coop complied with what was assumed to be certain law, C.O.O.L. (Country of Origin Labeling). Even now, all produce is labeled with its origin, as specifically as possible. Sometimes that means the individual farm, sometimes it means "USA" if it comes from multiple sources, but Allen always knows where it's from, even when dealing with national wholesale vendors.

A story Allen is particularly proud of is the Coop's fifteen year involvement with Amy Hepworth and her farm in Milton, NY. They have a particularly trusting relationship, as the Coop had been buying from her when she was originally part of a farmers collective and then took her on as one of their primary apple and organic vegetable sources. The closeness is apparent when Allen shows me the handwritten invoices that often come blank. The two entities have relied on each other for so long it is like dealing with family. (Check out a great article about their shared history in The Scotland Sunday Herald)

In the next week or so, I'll swap shifts at the Coop so I can go in early early morning when the deliveries come in and help unload the trucks. If we time it right, I hope to make it in on a day when Amy is delivering her regular shipment. Allen is a tremendous resource and I look forward to ongoing connections with him.

More to come on this afternoon's surprise visit from Nicaragua!

Mother's Day on "The Program"

2008-05-11T20:29:00.008-04:00

Despite a lack of recent posts, the project does continue and slowly becomes part of the daily routine. Lunches from Body & Soul, shopping at the Coop and the Farmers Markets, and lots of Brooklyn Lager and Makers Mark, of course.

My parents were in town for a Mother's Day visit and I did my best to keep them in line with the project guidelines (or "the program" as my mother adorably calls it -- does she think I'm twelve-stepping? I guess there are similarities....). Apparently Lucali, the local pizza phenomenon that I started to get to know, has had insane press recently so when we went at 8:30 on Friday night in the pouring rain there was a three hour wait. For the sake of my "no starving, no alienation" provisos, I accepted a "gift" from my parents and went to a restaurant, Crave, across the street. Aside from that blip however, I got them to make breakfast at home, took them on a whirlwind Saturday afternoon excursion to the Park Slope Food Coop to shop for dinner and made a huge stir-fry and salad, and then got my friends together to take mom to Counter for Mother's Day brunch this morning, which everyone loved. With some careful planning, and patience, my mission to know where all my purchases come from is proving possible.

We also checked out BklynDesigns on Saturday morning, an annual furniture and craft fair showcasing local designers. I took some serious notes should I decide I need to upgrade anything this year as there was some beautiful work made right here in my borough.

Coming up this week: I'm meeting with Allen Zimmerman, Produce Buyer for the Park Slope Food Coop, and Harold Butler, founder of Brownstone Beans. Plans for a June roadtrip to Tom's of Maine's factory and Seventh Generation's headquarters in Vermont are also in the works as well.

Urban Spring board

2008-05-02T14:00:00.008-04:00

I've mentioned Brownstone Beans here before, and my on-going attempts to check out where they are brewed and get to know the founder better. I also mentioned that I discovered them (him?) when I walked by a coffee and juice bar in Fort Greene neighborhood of Brooklyn called Urban Spring. This morning I was able to spend some time with Urban Spring's owner, Gordon. (I admit that I was slighly distracted by the fact that we were being recorded by a journalist, so forgive me if I have some of the details wrong.)

Gordon and his wife met while in Afghanistan, traveling around the Middle East region consulting for the United Nations. When his wife decided to return to the states to study acupuncture, they moved to Fort Greene with the assumption that his foreign experience would lead to quick employment. Things didn't go as smoothly as planned, and Gordon soon turned his sights to a vacant storefront on DeKalb with the idea of opening a juice bar (a soft-sell to a broader clientele than green building) and make efforts to consult on the side. Around the same time, they heard that Peace Church on Washington Square Park was being torn down - and a bit of being in the right place at the right time offered them the opportunity to salvage some beautiful artifacts from the landmark. Today, their benches are made of the church's floor boards, and shelving and the bar are constructed from wall and balcony moldings. A friendship with Angelica Kitchen taught them the basics of healthy baking using local ingredients, and an introduction to Harold led them to offering the only coffee brewed in Fort Greene, in Fort Greene.

Gordon said he and his wife are still very interested in green building, as well as community building and are working on a number of side projects that might combine the two interests. I'm looking forward to staying touch with him and seeing what they're up to. And excited to be able to sample more than just their coffee (which is french pressed and strong!).

Photo by Fred Froum from urbanspring.net

GOOD Stuff

2008-04-29T14:13:00.010-04:00

Today GOOD Magazine gave a nod to the project on their daily blog. Welcome to all visiting from their site! GOOD is an amazing endeavor and I love to be affiliated with them. I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas, and keep checking back as the project progresses!

UPDATE 4.29: Thanks in part to the GOOD post, the project has been noticed by some really fantastic sites, including Design:related, Search & Destroy, and Eyebeam reBlog. Thanks and welcome to all!

UPDATE 4.30: Add to those the notorious PSFK. Thanks for the great introduction. (And I guess thanks to Gothamist for the snark?)

Waking Up | Barriers, part 3

2008-04-25T21:02:00.008-04:00

A third trend I see in the obstacles I've encountered is probably the greatest and widest spread, though it appears to be the simplest to solve. It is simply that of the habits of both supplier and consumer. It is apparent to me how rare an occasion it is when a customer asks in depth questions that the seller is caught off guard and thrown a little bit. Neither side is used to this level of interaction which makes it very easy to slip into typical practices and not follow though.

My most recent example of this, and I freely admit the blame falls on both sides, is when I initiated contact with "Harold the Coffee Man", founder of Brownstone Beans in Brooklyn. I heard of Harold when I walked by Urban Spring on DeKalb Ave in Fort Greene and noticed their chalk-board sign pushing "Locally Brewed Coffee - Roasted Just Down the Street!" Turns out, Harold is a local guy who, indeed, imports beans from Nicaragua and elsewhere and began roasting them right there in his brownstone apartment to distribute to a few coffee houses and businesses. I did some research and called him up, and to his credit, Harold called me back a few days later and enthusiastically chatted to me about his beginnings, his day job as a teacher, and his new facility in Greenpoint. He told me he had a shipment coming in a few days and would let me know so I could come by and check out his operation.

And I haven't heard from him. I left another message for him once, but haven't followed up again. He is clearly in his routine and busy with an end of a school year and his business, and I'm busy with my day job and making inquiries as often as possible to broaden my scope. It's so much easier to just go about our day-to-day, even as a local entrepreneur and someone dedicated to making connections, than to pursue it. If we can't even make the connection happen, then it should be no surprise that most of us don't even bother trying.

Industry Policy | Barriers, part 2

2008-04-22T13:12:00.003-04:00

Next in this three-part post on Barriers is the more obvious, though still naively unexpected: the barriers put in place by the manufacturer.

About a year or so ago, I attended a Wesleyan University Alumni event with a friend (she's an alum, not me) and was introduced to the host -- Brooklyn Industries founder Lexy Funk. Hoping to use this connection, I asked my friend to contact the alumni association and try to get in touch with Lexy for me. In the meantime, I sent emails to the general info address and crossed my fingers. I was thrilled when I got an email back from Lexy, commending my project and offering to put me in touch with someone who could help me out with meeting some folks who manufacture tee-shirts right here in Brooklyn. Awesome. After a few back and forths with the woman she set me up with in consumer relations, she told me she would look into it and get back to me with the information I requested. I waited a week and wrote again. Nothing.

Then today I got a very brief email informing me that it is their policy "not to disclose their vendors", but that a particular shoulder bag (with a link to the website) was manufactured locally. And that was it. I've let the email sit out of frustration, but I intend to write back and ask if I can at least meet with her, and let her explain to me why this policy is in place. I have no desire to go in looking for bad working conditions or inspect the machinery, which is probably why this obstacle is in place, but I do want to see where the product comes from and who spends their days making it before I buy it.

Through the Grapevine | Barriers, part 1

2008-04-18T16:11:00.007-04:00

I began this experiment with the very real desire to focus on something positive, making personal connections and breaking down distances between suppliers and the consumer, rather than to focus on the negative aspects of a consumption-based society. I was also somewhat naive in thinking that all it would take was some research and some eagerness to bridge those distances. It is still very early in the experiment, and I'm sure a number of tends will begin to emerge from the folks that I meet and the ones I don't. One that's beginning to be very clear is that there are some very real barriers in place, and that they are worth exploring as much as the connections are.

This revelation came while talking with Emmanuel Boyer, a member of a French wine-making family living here in New York. Emmanuel grew up on his family's vineyard in southern France, a vineyard called La Croix-Belle that the family has worked "forever". (The house on the label? That's the house he grew up in. His bedroom is the window on the top left.) As a child he picked grapes with the hired hands and, when the winery went machined, watched as the processes were slowly perfected. He and his brother were the first to leave the village and pursue other degrees - his in engineering, his brother's in veterinary medicine, but he is still deeply involved in every decision from what varieties of grapes to grow and blend to what the labels and packaging of new wines will look like. He is the company's representative to the United States, and will return to run the family business again in just a few years.

What shocked me, however, was that as intrinsically involved in the business as Emmanuel is, he doesn't even have a real sense of where his wines are sold in New York. He explained to me the built-in state-mandated separations between grower and consumer. Wineries are required to go through an importer, who in turn is required to use a local distributer, who then decides what restaurants and wine shops to market to. And only at that level is the consumer able to interact with the product. On the rare occasion, he is able to be involved with tastings set up by the distributor for their marketing teams, but rarely directly to the consumer. And when we called him (he is a close friend of a coworker), he was hard pressed to recommend a restaurant where he knew they would have his wine. We did find some, the Champs Des Lys and it was wonderful, and he did know that Astor wines carried at least one of his reds (which we found and bought several bottles of). But with these sort of frustrating barriers set up in front of the supplier, it is no wonder I'm facing challenges from this side.

Rolling With It | Cross country saved by country boy

2008-04-14T11:52:00.007-04:00

Twenty-nine hours of driving in two-and-a-half days. It's a little nutty. "Wacky", as my mother called it. But we did it, all in the name of dedication to The Project. Taking off from NYC Friday afternoon in our trusty Zipcar Toyota Matrix, Joe and I headed for Loretto, Kentucky, to visit the Maker's Mark Distillery. After a brief layover in Pittsburgh with Kelly and Bill (who generously offered a couple of strangers from CouchSurfing.com a place to sleep amongst their menagerie), we arrived in Kentucky Saturday afternoon.

We expected the distillery to be fairly near a major roadway, given the amount of trucking that must go in and out of their properties.... but no. The Maker's Mark distillery is deep, deep in the heart of blue grass, cattle raising, Confederate flag country, many green-hilled miles from the nearest interstate. Just as we were giving up on the winding one-way narrow cart paths, we rounded a corner to find hundreds of cars pulling up amongst a black-shingled, red-shuttered compound. The mixed emotions felt by actually finding the place and having it swarmed with Maker's fans aside (it was their annual Ambassador's Weekend -- fan club meeting and marketing, really), it was a challenge to get anything more than the anamatronic tours and demonstrations.

When we finally snuck away from the pimento cheese finger sandwiches and headed towards some buildings not on the tour, we found ourselves approaching a tall, burly fellow in a brown MM sweatshirt, work boots, and well-worn cowboy hat. A Godsend.

Jude is a barrel-roller. He is one of about 18 guys who rolls empty barrels off trucks from the warehouse into the cistern, where they are filled with whiskey ready to become bourbon, and then rolls the full barrels back onto another truck to go back to the warehouse. 360 barrels a day, each one 150 pounds empty, 500+ pounds full. But as Jude put it, "It's not so bad, you let the whiskey do the work."

Given that all of the Maker's Mark Bourbon in the world is distilled in Loretto, and that Jude is one of only eighteen people who move these barrels, there's a high likelihood that much of the Maker's I've consumed in bars or at home, and will continue to consume, was aged in barrels he's rolled.

Hitting the Bottle...er... Road

2008-04-11T16:17:00.004-04:00

And I almost forgot -- I'm leaving in an hour to drive to Loretto, Kentucky, to visit the Maker's Mark Bourbon Distillery! It's the annual "Ambassador's Weekend" and sure to be stories. Cheers!

Making an Impact | Environmentally, socially, personally

2008-04-11T15:56:00.009-04:00

The people who work for Seventh Generation are really remarkable. In one week, I had email exchanges with Chrystie in Consumer Relations, Lee in executive administration, and Jeff and Jay, Executive and Senior Vice Presidents, respectively, of Operations. And it's not that I was getting the run-around, I was getting positive feedback on my project and attempts to get me in touch with the right people to answer my questions. I received a phone call yesterday from Jay LeDuc - SVP of Operations, remember - who spoke with me for half an hour about the company's manufacturing processes, their vendor partners and quality assurance teams, and personnel policies. He spoke with me about strict guidelines when finding factories to make their products, influencing the manufacturing standards of other companies, reducing the carbon footprint by moving operations closer to their consumers, and the pleasure of watching an industry that they helped establish twenty years ago become one of global interest.

Jay went into great detail with his responses and took the call to "just some guy in Brooklyn", as my friends put it, quite seriously. He pointed me to their annual environmental responsibility reporting, and invited me up to their headquarters in Vermont where he'd introduce me to the quality assurance team as well. Though I have yet to shake his hand and talk face-to-face, Jay certainly gave me individual attention and personal connection. The fact that he works for one of the most socially and environmentally responsible and forward-thinking businesses out there, well that feels pretty good too.

Daily Decisions

2008-04-10T11:20:00.007-04:00

I've been asked how much this project is affecting my every day life. Are there things I used to buy that now I don't? Is this easy or hard? Have I cheated yet?

The honest answer is that I'm finding it affects everything. Generally, I haven't sacrificed anything major (a cup of coffee while out and about, using hair product since I've run out) but it has changed how I buy things, and I've definitely started making substitutions. I make coffee at home everyday, with coffee from the Co-op. I buy lunch for the week from Scott at the Body & Soul booth at the farmer's market and keep it in the refrigerator at work. Last weekend I had friends over to my apartment for both brunch and a pot-luck dinner to avoid carelessly eating out while still maintaining a social life. I drink only beer from Brooklyn Brewery. It is constantly on my mind; add in dozens of emails and phone calls to make arrangements to visit manufacturing plants and local entrepreneurs, and it's almost a full time effort.

I've made an exception once: our friends in a band (shout out to Kind Monitor) threw a birthday party for my boyfriend at MonkeyTown in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. I had no opportunity to eat before I arrived and knew we'd be out drinking afterwards, and it was 9pm on a Friday night–not a time to try to get in to meet the chef at a busy venue. So I allowed an exception (rather than trying to rationalize) and enjoyed the burger. With a Brooklyn Lager.

Progress | Further ahead, further apart

2008-04-07T12:31:00.012-04:00

I've had some really wonderful exchanges with folks at Seventh Generation, Tom's of Maine, and Brooklyn Industries this weekend/this morning. It seems the project strikes a very human chord and people are willing to help me make connections. It will be great to make these associations.

It's truly been eye-opening, though, to see how the world is no longer organized in a way which this is easy -- and certainly not expected. Long gone is the possibility of going to the market and meeting the craftsmen who's labor created the goods (the city's few Farmer's Markets are the rare exception). It's now a matter of a company rep deciding whether my requests are "Press" related, or "Customer Service", and of course, even "local" goods are manufactured all over the continent. Most of my successes so far are coming from connections through friends or the neighborhoods I spend time in.

Wood Fired Up | Making pizza connections

2008-04-02T23:16:00.010-04:00

I've always enjoyed going to local, family-owned restaurants, but never had the impetus to really find out about the family themselves. Tonight I went out to what had become a new favorite in the neighborhood (actually that same place that I was taken out to that first night that felt like such a failure) with a new attitude and new drive to learn more. Lucali is a romantic wood-oven pizza spot hidden on Henry Street in Carroll Gardens. Serving only pizza and calzones, you squeeze into candle-lit wood tables in the front of the restaurant -- and only the front because the back is the open "kitchen" where owner/chef Mark stretches dough and rolls it out with wine bottles on wide oak tables in front of the wood-fire oven.

According to Alex, our server tonight, Lucali was opened up a year ago last Columbus Day (that makes it a year-and-a-half old) by Mark and his wife and their friends and family. Alex, a neighborhood girl and friend of the couple, is one of about 8 servers who have been there from the start and rotate nights. She and the others hadn't worked together prior to opening the shop, but had faith in Lucali and their friends. Rumor has it the place used to be Mark's grandfather's candy shop, and that the couple just had a baby. It's all hearsay, but I hope to get back in and talk to Mark himself. If anyone from the Lucali family stops by, please say hello!

Local Flavor | Paying attention to sources

2008-03-30T10:48:00.004-04:00

Buying from Greenmarkets is so much more fun than I expected. From greens and vegetables, to fruit spreads and bread, I'm amazed at how much is produced locally. A quick round up of the places my food came from this week:

Phillips Farm, Millford, NY

Oak Grove Plantation, Pittstown, NJ

Bread Alone, Hudson River Valley, NY

Wheelhouse Pickles, Brooklyn, NY

Brownstone Beans, Fort Greene, NY

All close enough for me to stop in and visit soon. I've got a few leads on those last two in particular (pickling okra and brewing Nicaraguan beans in Brooklyn apartments? these guys have got to be crazy, and awesome.)

Giving Up Gift Giving?

2008-03-28T15:50:00.008-04:00

I'm discovering that any real commercial purchase is going to be very thought out and planned ahead. Not only to decide where and what to buy, which was the whole point of this experiment, but also when. Most of the time I can sacrifice for a while until I can make the purchase the way that I want to, but what happens when someone's birthday can't wait until I've got my act together?

I've known this from the beginning, but I am extremely lucky to have a supportive, open minded, patient boyfriend as I launch into this experiment -- particularly when his birthday falls about a week and a half into it. Some creative thinking and lots of running around proved fairly successful, but perhaps only because Joe doesn't have typical desires for gifts anyway. Lucky for me, he didn't have his heart on an iPhone or Wii this year. He recently moved into a new apartment, so potted herb plants grown organically and pesticide-free on Phillips Farms in Millford, NJ, along with bright blue fabrics from the Garment District to make some pillow cases (raw goods that will be "manufactured" at home are going to be allowed this year -- I'm too hands on to give up building and crafting) fit the bill just fine.

I'm wondering if my family will be as pleased by my "inventive" gift giving this year?

An Organic Progression | Finally, a real personal connection

2008-03-25T11:11:00.013-04:00

Last night I brazenly stopped into Counter, the East Village organic/vegetarian restaurant that serves up the wraps and turnovers I've been devouring from the Greenmarket for months (and exclusively for the last week). Granted it was a slow Monday night, but I was shocked when I asked to speak to Deborah Gavito, the restaurant's founder, and she came out to talk to me a few minutes later. Deborah is an adorable woman with a contagious smile who obviously adores her restaurant and her work. After only a moment of explaining what I was about, she brought me to a table in the back and eagerly told me all about Counter, the farms on Long Island and Upstate New York where all of her greens and herbs come from, as well as her real love -- the vast array of organic wines (300 on the menu) and beers (30) she finds from all over the world. She graciously gave me a tour of the small but immaculate kitchen (I nearly squealed when she pointed out the bread press where the wraps and turnovers that Body & Soul sells are made), extensive dry storage and prep rooms, and wine vaults. I even got a taste of some amazing cocktails served up by her 'mixologist'.

It was truly a pleasure to meet her -- and so much fun to hear someone so enthused about their work. She offered to take me Satur Farms on Long Island on an upcoming weekend to meet a winemaker with her and see where the greens come from! I'm looking forward to many nights at Counter and getting to know Deborah and her team there.

The Issue With Food | Overcoming a complicated relationship with eating

2008-03-24T15:17:00.006-04:00

This was never supposed to be about food. Or so I thought. It never occurred to me that 90% of what I purchase is food. Morning coffee, lunches, afternoon snacks, happy-hours, dinners out, groceries, weekend breakfasts, all of it comes from somewhere and I had no concept of how many times a week I opened my wallet to exchange cash for sustenance.

There's a complicated element to the issues raised by food in regards to this "new religion" I've been accused of having, in that there's a question as to what constitutes "production", and what constitutes a "commercial item". If I have to visit the farm where every item on my plate comes from, I will go hungry and malnourished very quickly: something I promised myself I wouldn't let happen. That doesn't mean I'm off the hook completely though, and can go willy-nilly through Wendy's and Key Foods (a comparatively sub par grocery chain here in NY). My new philosophy on food and how it fits into the experiment is this: all groceries are to come from the Park Slope Food Coop, where I am and know others who are part of the chain of bringing the goods to market, and I have the opportunity to discover where everything hails from and visit as many (over time) as I can -- or a Greenmarket environment where I'm purchasing directly from the farms. Dining out is a bit more sketchy as it's pretty clearly a purchase of manufactured goods and I have limited access to every kitchen in NYC. I can, however, investigate which chefs procure raw goods direct from local farmers and Greenmarkets. I can learn more about local independent restaurateurs, become a regular and get to know them, meeting with them and learning about their businesses and seeing where the food is prepared.

I came to this realization last night when the possibilities for dinner where to either make my boyfriend buy a box of pasta and cook it for me (he can't afford to buy me "gifts" for dinner whenever it gets sticky, and God only knows where that boxed pasta came from anyway) or to eat at a local restaurant. We opted for Bonita, a Mexican spot in Fort Green, where we learned that they buy all of their meat and produce from New York State farms, and seasonally offer specials such as King Fish, which is a local game fish. Bonita is one of three owned and operated together, and they routinely will "purchase a cow" at a regional farm together and split it amongst the restaurants, ensuring meat is fresh and as un-processed as possible. I'm sure there will be more discussions as to how food fits in to the project, but for the moment, this seems sustainable.

The Distillation Process | A visit to Brooklyn Brewery reveals there's more work to be done

2008-03-22T18:07:00.009-04:00

My first "factory tour" really opened my eyes. And then slurred my speech and compromised my coordination.

A visit to Brooklyn Brewery's Williamsburg, NY, facility is not what I expected. The "tour" consisted of a 10 minute canned speech from aspiring-actor and sometimes bartender Eric, in a room the size of a modest house that contained thirteen 20 foot steel tanks and an assortment of 60 some-odd Scandinavian tourists and local hipsters. Eric covered the basics: founded by Steve Hindy; iconic logo by design legend Milton Glaser (of I Heart NY fame, and Design of Dissent authorship); 1/3 of their beer is produced in Brooklyn, the other 2/3 in a larger Utica facility.... So apparently the room we were in is an actually working brewery, the tanks around us were filed with fermenting liquids and the distillation process is underway on weekdays. What quickly dawned on me, however, is that I'm not going to meet anyone who actually works the machines while on a guided tour with a $4 pint in my hand. It wasn't Eric's fault -- in fact chatting with him afterwards, he's quite knowledgeable about the process and seemed a genuinely good guy -- but a tour is not the same. It's a step in the right direction to seeing where the product comes from, but a deeper connection to a distiller, the company founder, or a visit to the massive facility in Utica are going to be necessary.

That all said: a few of the brand's labels are brewed in the Williamsburg factory. I saw no harm in trying the Winter Brew, Weiss, and special addition Blast. It wasn't until I purchased a case to bring to a dinner party when I realized, hmm, this might be challenging on a bicycle...

Habitual Spending

2008-03-21T15:15:00.007-04:00

I've never really been a big shopper, and over the past few years I've become more and more conscious of what I buy and where I buy it from. However, walking through the city the past couple days I've been acutely aware of my urges to buy something! I've been bringing lunch in to work, and coffee some mornings (all left over from before the start of the project or from the Union Sq Greenmarket and Park Slope Coop) but when I go out of the office to take a break or walk home after work, I am magnetically drawn into the shops and coffee houses I used to frequent. I almost feel guilty for not patronizing them. It's really been quite an awakening to my old habits.

Fun With Communism | We're all in this together at the Park Slope Food Coop

2008-03-19T23:18:00.015-04:00

Finally a real sense of making some progress! Tonight I attended an orientation session at the Park Slope Food Coop, a membership cooperative grocery store focusing on local and organic meat, grains, and produce, as well as community and social responsibility. With over 13,000 "volunteer" members, the Coop boasts $27 million in annual sales. The broccoli bin gets refilled every 30 minutes on any given Saturday.

Orientation was led by Julie, a massage therapist by day, and Coop member for 7 years. Fellow orientees hailed from as nearby as Park Slope to as far as Queens, the Upper West Side of Manhattan, and Trinidad (okay, she's a student in NY). In all, there were 20 new members tonight -- typical for a session, of which there are 4 a week. That's 320 new members a month. Impressive from an organization that started when 5 guys who decided to buy a bag of rice together and split it in 1972, and incorporated a year later. Currently, members enjoy low prices (all items are marked up only 21% above cost) for their commitment of 2 hours and 45 minutes per month, and provide 75% of the labor needed to run the shop.

I'm honored to be a part of it, and look forward to meeting fellow members, learning where the produce and other products come from, and stocking those shelves.

UPDATE 3.20: I used my new member privileges to buy much-needed soap and toothpaste along with some fresh produce and eggs last night. I'm still embarrassed by how good it felt to actually buy something.

Going the Distance | Physical and emotional lengths

2008-03-19T14:10:00.010-04:00

Challenges to complete immersion and strict adherence to its principles come in many forms.

I discovered last night that Seventh Generation, which I thought was a "local" company and was relying on for many household necessities, is actually located in Burlington, VT. Six hours away. A new strategy is to take a long weekend to drive up to their factories, then cut over to Tom's of Maine before coming back to New York. In the meantime, my own personal involvement in the distribution chain by joining the Park Slope Coop will need to suffice.

Most people I've discussed this project with are extremely supportive and I love the conversations it starts ("there are 14 Breweries in New York State"; "if you support Burt's Bees and then they get bought by Clorox, do you stop patronizing them?"). But starting this during my birthday week is frustrating friends when I suggest pot-luck: "Don’t get me wrong I respect what you are doing but it is totally crazy to try and do that with a group of people... you can do what you want, just hard to pull off when you have external factors in play like friends."

Baby Steps | The learning curve

2008-03-17T13:29:00.012-04:00

The project is off to a shaky, but definitive, start. Allowing for a sharp learning curve, and the complete overhaul of my interactions with the world in many ways, is going to take some patience. And nerve.

I've yet to clarify to myself strict guidelines when it comes to food consumption, and it's going to continue to be a process. Friends took me to dinner last night (a cap to a birthday weekend) and it felt like I was cheating right off the bat. Dinners out are going to have to be rare and special.

I regained some confidence in the challenge's feasibility at noon today when I finally introduced myself to Scott, who works the Body & Soul booth at the Union Square Greenmarket. Scott is there Mondays and Fridays and I've been buying vegetable turnovers and wraps from him for months. Turns out Body & Soul is related to the restaurant Counter, founded by local and organic chef Deborah Gavito at 105 First Ave, NY. I stocked up for the week, and look forward to going down to meet Deborah and check out the kitchen soon.

Counting down to the launch

2008-03-12T17:51:00.005-04:00

A few days before beginning this year-long experiment, I'm excited by the prospects and nervous about the challenges. The plan at the outset is to spend the next year, my 30th as it happens, hyper conscious of every consumer purchase I make. For every transaction, there must be a personal connection with someone along the production chain. Whether its the designer, factory worker, chef, farmer, or maybe even trucker, being aware of the lives touched by every product I buy will certainly enlighten me, probably surprise me, possibly shame me, and absolutely provide me with some good stories.

The experiment/challenge will most likely direct me to consuming primarily local goods– grown, produced, created somewhere near Brooklyn, NY. I will not necessarily hold this as a rule, however. I hope to be able to make some connections across the country, and possibly internationally. I'll probably want to buy something that was made in China over the next year, won't I?

The project is sure to evolve, and I welcome comments, suggestions, and collaborators as it progresses.