Re: used clothes

1999-07-22 Thread Thomas Lunde

Thomas:

I thought I would immediately judge this as bad, given my predeliction
towards simplicty.  However, as I read it through, I found myself with
conflicting pro's and con's.  On the one hand, it is a classical example of
Reagan's trickle down theory, in that somewhere down the line of excessive
consumption, the poor actually benefit by having access to clothes that they
could never afford.  And if there was not this surplus, those lives would be
more difficult and impoverished.

On the other hand, one must question a system of production, advertising,
distribution that is obviously so wasteful.  At some level, my mind is
stunned by these images the article described, even though I use second hand
clothes.  The only other image I can think of that has impacted me so
strongly is waste disposal.  In which pictures of barges filled with garbage
are towed out to sea and dumped or semi trailers are taking garbage from New
York to Virgina and filling massive landfills.

In a recent book I was reading, there were graphic depictions of animal
farms in Georgia and North Carolina in which animals are raised by the
thousands and effluent ponds are so large and smelly that whole counties
literally reek from the smell.

In the concept of markets, being the best mechanism for supplying goods and
services, one wonders were we leave the sane and responsible and enter into
the netherlands of excessive and destructive.  If this is happening in 1999,
one has to ask what the situation might be like in 2030 or 2100?

At some point there must be a place where intelligent planning is more
effective than market forces.  The question is; "How do we get from here to
there?"

Respectfully,

Thomas Lunde

--
>From: "Cordell, Arthur: DPP" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
>To: Futurework <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
>Subject: used clothes
>Date: Thu, Jul 22, 1999, 2:50 PM
>

> I am forwarding this piece from the NY Times.  It says something about our
> economy and maybe globalization, but I am puzzled whether its 'good' or
> 'bad' or 'both'.
>
> arthur cordell
>
> =
>
>
>  Monday, July 19, 1999
>
>
> Prosperity Builds Mounds of Cast-Off Clothes
>
> The New York Times
>
>Publication Date: Monday July 19, 1999
>National Desk; Section A; Page 1, Column 1
>
>
>PROVIDENCE, R.I. -- Hour by hour, cars and trucks back up to the
> Salvation  Army's warehouse loading dock on the edge of the prosperous East
> Side here and  disgorge clothing. Skirts and parkas, neckties and tank tops,
> sweat pants and  socks, a polychromatic mountain of clothes is left each
> week, some with price  tags still attached.
>
>Inside the warehouse, workers cull the clean and undamaged clothes,
> roughly 1  piece in 5, to give to the poor or to sell at thrift shops. They
> feed the rest  -- as much as four million pounds a year -- into mighty
> machines that bind them  into 1,100-pound, 5-foot-long bales. Rag dealers
> buy the bales for 5 cents a  pound and ship them off to countries like Yemen
> and Senegal.
>
>Nearly a decade of rising prosperity has changed the ways that Americans
> view  and use clothing, so much so that cast-off clothes have become the
> flotsam of  turn-of-the-century affluence. Americans bought 17.2 billion
> articles of  clothing in 1998 -- a 16 percent increase over 1993, according
> to the NPG Group,  a market research concern in Port Washington, N.Y. -- and
> gave the Salvation  Army alone several hundred million pieces, well over
> 100,000 tons.
>
>And because so few people make or mend their clothes anymore, among the
> changes has been this one, in 1998: The Bureau of Labor Statistics moved
> sewing  machines from the ''apparel and upkeep'' category of consumer
> spending to  ''recreation.''
>
>The clothing glut is a boon to the many charities like the Salvation Army
> that sort and sell old clothes. ''You choke on sweaters,'' said Capt. Thomas
> E.  Taylor, administrator of the Salvation Army's Providence center, one of
> the  three or four busiest of the organization's 119 across the country. No
> one in  the United States, Captain Taylor said, need ever go without being
> properly  dressed.
>
>At the warehouse, Judy Keegan was unloading a cargo of dresses, jeans and
> shirts.
>
>''I do this regularly,'' Ms. Keegan, who has four children, ages 6 to 15,
> said of giving away family clothing. ''I grew up with hand-me-downs, but if
> they  need something, we go buy it.''
>
>Joanna Wood, a social worker who was choking on linens, brought in a
> blanket  and comforter.
>
>'

used clothes

1999-07-22 Thread Cordell, Arthur: DPP

I am forwarding this piece from the NY Times.  It says something about our
economy and maybe globalization, but I am puzzled whether its 'good' or
'bad' or 'both'.

arthur cordell

=


 Monday, July 19, 1999
 

Prosperity Builds Mounds of Cast-Off Clothes

The New York Times

   Publication Date: Monday July 19, 1999
   National Desk; Section A; Page 1, Column 1


   PROVIDENCE, R.I. -- Hour by hour, cars and trucks back up to the
Salvation  Army's warehouse loading dock on the edge of the prosperous East
Side here and  disgorge clothing. Skirts and parkas, neckties and tank tops,
sweat pants and  socks, a polychromatic mountain of clothes is left each
week, some with price  tags still attached.

   Inside the warehouse, workers cull the clean and undamaged clothes,
roughly 1  piece in 5, to give to the poor or to sell at thrift shops. They
feed the rest  -- as much as four million pounds a year -- into mighty
machines that bind them  into 1,100-pound, 5-foot-long bales. Rag dealers
buy the bales for 5 cents a  pound and ship them off to countries like Yemen
and Senegal.

   Nearly a decade of rising prosperity has changed the ways that Americans
view  and use clothing, so much so that cast-off clothes have become the
flotsam of  turn-of-the-century affluence. Americans bought 17.2 billion
articles of  clothing in 1998 -- a 16 percent increase over 1993, according
to the NPG Group,  a market research concern in Port Washington, N.Y. -- and
gave the Salvation  Army alone several hundred million pieces, well over
100,000 tons.

   And because so few people make or mend their clothes anymore, among the
changes has been this one, in 1998: The Bureau of Labor Statistics moved
sewing  machines from the ''apparel and upkeep'' category of consumer
spending to  ''recreation.''

   The clothing glut is a boon to the many charities like the Salvation Army
that sort and sell old clothes. ''You choke on sweaters,'' said Capt. Thomas
E.  Taylor, administrator of the Salvation Army's Providence center, one of
the  three or four busiest of the organization's 119 across the country. No
one in  the United States, Captain Taylor said, need ever go without being
properly  dressed.

   At the warehouse, Judy Keegan was unloading a cargo of dresses, jeans and
shirts.

   ''I do this regularly,'' Ms. Keegan, who has four children, ages 6 to 15,
said of giving away family clothing. ''I grew up with hand-me-downs, but if
they  need something, we go buy it.''

   Joanna Wood, a social worker who was choking on linens, brought in a
blanket  and comforter.

   ''The frightening thing,'' Ms. Wood said, ''is I'm a nonshopper.''

   Beyond clearing their closets, donors have a monetary incentive for
giving  away clothes here. They can claim a tax deduction if they ask for a
form when  they pull in. Ms. Keegan took one, Ms. Wood did not.

   ''The majority don't,'' Captain Taylor said. ''The majority of people
just  give.''

   Clothing is easier than ever to buy, not only because incomes have gone
up  and unemployment has gone down, but also because clothes are getting
relatively  cheaper. Clothing prices have risen just 13 percent in a decade,
while the  average for all consumer goods rose 34 percent. Prices of women's
clothes are  lower now than six years ago.

   But the greatest boon to shopping and shedding may be the fast-changing
fashion styles, and not only for women. Few children settle for their older
siblings' outdated Starter jackets and baggy jeans. Elementary school
principals  routinely complain of overflowing lost-and-found departments.

   These phenomena have swept across the spectrum of the retail economy,
from  boutique shoppers to bargain hunters. Conservatively attired in beige,
Susan  Brenneman, a 30-year-old software executive, seemed a model of
reserve,  moderation and thrift. Then she popped open the trunk of her Volvo
sedan. From  Nieman Marcus, Banana Republic and Lord & Taylor shopping bags,
she plucked 6  suits, 8 pairs of shoes, 10 pairs of pants, 5 blouses, 10
belts, 2 sweaters and  a raincoat.

   The clothes, all spotless and neat, were up to two years old. Ms.
Brenneman  said her company's shift to more casual wear put an end to the
suits. Still,  wincing at the size of her load, Ms. Brenneman said she was
revising her  priorities. ''More quality and less volume,'' she said.In
buying and  scrapping clothes, Ms. Brenneman had nothing on a 42-year-old
woman who was  rifling through the racks at the 18,500-square-foot Salvation
Army thrift store  next to the warehouse. She was wearing last week's
acquisition, a shimmering  Navy blue tank top embroidered with the Wilson
sportswear logo, which had cost  her $1.

   ''Clothes, I go through them like water,'' said the woman, who identified
herself only as Casey. ''I change my outfits all the time.''
   The tank top, like everything else she buys, is eventually destined for
donation, she said.

   ''But why pay $25, whe