I never know what will trigger a travel haunting. The other day I was speaking at a high school in San Francisco and another one surfaced.

I was in the village of Matlab in Bangladesh. My translator, Dalton, was giving me a tour of the village when a serious looking man approached us. He grabbed me by the arm and led us through the worn dirt paths around rice paddies and ponds until we stood in a home next to a dying old man, the serious man’s father.

The man thought I was a doctor. The man thought I could save his father’s life.

And, you know what? Maybe I could have.

I’m not a wealthy man, but in Bangladesh I am. At the time I didn’t have thousands of dollars at my disposal, but for a few hundred I’m sure I could’ve transported the dying man to the best hospital in Bangladesh. Maybe he still would have died. Maybe he would have died more comfortably. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference whatsoever.

I did nothing. I apologized and told the man I wasn’t a doctor and that I could do nothing for his father. It was awkward. I was ashamed.

How much does it cost to save a life? And what lengths would you go to or how much would you give to do it?

These are questions I’ve been pondering a lot lately. Between my new travel haunting, the earthquake in Haiti, and my reading of Peter Singer’s “The Life You Can Save,” I’ve been thinking about what I can and should do to make a difference. Singer argues that living an ethical life involves a mix of personal philanthropy, local activism, and political awareness. He dispels the whole “for the price of one cup of coffee per day you can save a child’s life” myth and takes a realistic look at how and why we should give.

I’m somewhat politically active, and in 2009 I tried to become more active locally. I joined Big Brothers and Big Sisters (my little brother is a cool kid and we have a lot of fun – Hey Alex!) and Teamwork for Quality Living, which is a great organization that engages the community to overcome poverty together. But my giving hasn’t been the best.

I might have donated $200-$300 last year, which Peter Singer would definitely say is not enough. I could tell Singer that we incurred the cost of having a child, starting her savings plan, and health insurance costs that skyrocketed, and we weren’t in a position to give much, but he still wouldn’t be satisfied.

I’m not a good giver. That’s what I’m beginning to see. That’s what Singer has helped me to see. I can’t afford to give a lot, but I can afford to give more than I do and I’m ethically obligated to do so.

It’s not tough to punch in my credit card number online and click “donate.” I can do that as well as the next fella. But there are so many great organizations out there how do I choose which one to support? Where will my money have the biggest impact?

Allow me to introduce my project to answer these questions: ten4tues. That’s $10 for Tuesday.

Each Tuesday I plan to share to which organization I am donating $10 to and tell why I chose them. I’ll search out charity organizations like Charity Navigator and GiveWell to aid my decision.

By the end of the year, I’ll have donated $520, which still probably isn’t enough. But writing and 2010 comes with its own uncertainties and I don’t want to commit myself to something beyond my means. At the end of the year if I can give more, maybe I’ll choose my favorite charity of the year and do so.

I hope to not only educate myself, but others too. In fact, if so inspired by that week’s organization, I hope you’ll join me in donating to them. Once you do, leave a comment that you donated on this blog or on my Facebook wall or send me a reply on Twitter (use the hashtag #ten4tues) and I’ll enter you to win that week’s prize.

Since I just brainstormed this idea and I’m a couple of weeks behind my $520 goal already, I’ll simplify things this week.

I will be donating $30 to CARE’s Haiti efforts. If you’ve donated a cent to assist any organization’s Haiti efforts, let me know and I’ll enter you to win Singer's "The Life You Can Save."

When you have a baby girl, everyone wants to buy her clothes (especially when she is the cutest baby ever!).  Somewhere between thanking the gifter and keeping the giftee from chewing on the wrapping paper, I sneak a peak at the made in label of the onesie or sleeper, the plastic ball or the toy puppy, the teenie dress or tiny skirt.  The tag almost always reads “Made in China.”

Other than shoes (80% made in China), I’ve never seen a category of clothing so dominated by a single country than baby clothes.  If China shutdown, we’d have a bunch of bored, half-naked babies crawling around our living rooms.

I’m always grateful that someone walked into a store, thought of my little girl, and dropped a few bucks on her, but I’ve never been too big on clothes as gifts.  This is deeply rooted stuff. Who doesn’t remember shaking packages only to hear the swoosh of clothes and thinking, “That doesn’t sound like a He-Man action figure. Oh no, I think it’s clothes!”?

Now it’s even a bigger problem with me.  I tell the gifter that they shouldn’t have and then they tell me that it was no problem. Besides, it was on the sale rack and they bought it for only $2. I think about the onesie’s journey from China across oceans and continents and marvel at the $2 price tag.

It makes my head spin.  How is that possible?  I can’t mail a T-shirt to my neighbor for $2.

Harper has about 200 outfits (this might be an exaggeration, but it’s most likely not) and most of them have been gifts and nearly all of them were made in China.  I’ve come to accept it, until last week when I received a package from my buddy Larry.

I shook it.  It sounded like clothes.  I expected to find a cute outfit made in China, but I found so much more.

It was accompanied by a note:

Had a friend of mine design and knit this dress for Harper. The design is adapted from a dress she made for her daughter’s 2nd birthday.
-    Larry

And another handwritten note from the dressmaker, Susan:

It’s been a pleasure creating this one-of-a-kind dress for Harper!

Susan even wrote out the washing instructions, because, really, who knows how to care for bamboo silk?  Who even knew bamboo silk existed?

And she posted the dress on her site and named it after Harper.  The dress is officially known as Harper’s Lollipop Tree Dress.

Forget the economics and politics of Harper’s Made in China wardrobe. What has been lost isn’t our connection with clothes, but with the people who make our clothes.

The note from Larry’s friend got me thinking.  What if every item of clothing we wore came with such a note.

“Hope you like this Elmo shirt. I stitched the collar.” Signed Li Xin.

Maybe then we would pause before buying a garment, which has traveled tens of thousands of miles, for $2.  Maybe then we would think about the workers who stitched our clothes and if it’s possible for them to feed and clothe their own kids while getting paid the tiniest fraction of a onesie.

To me Harper’s Lollipop dress is the most beautiful garment in her wardrobe. From the smile on her face, Harper agrees.

Readers of  “Where Am I Wearing?” will no doubt recognize this story about my visit to a blue jean factory in Cambodia.  Of course, the book wasn’t accompanied with an over abundance of hand gestures. Enjoy!

Do you know where Lesotho is? I’ll be honest, I don’t.

I do know that it’s in Africa. I look it up on Google Maps every time I wear my favorite corduroy pants that were made there. But I just can’t seem to commit to memory where in Africa Lesotho is.

“Lesotho” doesn’t seem like a real name of a country to me, but more of an assassin’s name in the StarWars. Each time I try to remember where exactly Lesotho is, I start imagining what the assassin would look like: how far his eyes are apart; the type of laser gun he favors; and other such nonsense. I picture the assassin wearing my brown cords blasting princesses and Jedi into smithereens.

This is the way my mind works. It can’t be helped.

So, where is Lesotho, let me look…

I can’t believe I couldn’t remember this! Lesotho is in - and by “in” I mean completely surrounded by - South Africa. There can’t be many countries completely surrounded by one other country. Stick that in your back pocket and save it for Jeopardy. It’s my gift to you.

Speaking of back pockets, let’s get back to my cords. They were made in Lesotho for GAP. The Lesotho-GAP combo might sound familiar because they were recently in the news.

An investigation carried out by the London Sunday Times found that a factory that produces for GAP and Levi’s was dumping their garbage in the garbage dump.

That doesn’t seem like much of a story, does it?

But there are needles and scissors in the factory’s garbage, which are hard on the bare feet of the kids who scour the dump for anything of value.

Dumps in the developing world are awful, awful places where the poorest of the extremely poor try to make ends meet. I visited one in Cambodia and the physical anguish of trying not to vomit or cry while holding my nose was only outweighed by the mental anguish of what I was witnessing.

But what can we expect of the brands or the factories? Should the factories have a special repository for sharp objects?

Heck, I’ve thrown away a dull pair of scissors before and even razor blades. It’s just that nobody is walking across my garbage looking for something of value. Maybe the factories could use some kind of receptacles like doctors have for sharp objects. But I bet they would be dumped and picked through; a pair of scissors can be sharpened and sold.

So, I’m not really outraged by the factory using the garbage dump for their garbage. However, the fact that a river downstream of the factory runs denim…that’s kind of a big one.

From the article:

Dark blue effluent from the factory of Nien Hsing, a Taiwanese firm, was pouring into a river from which people draw water for cooking and bathing.

This news is a blemish on Lesotho’s garment industry, the largest private sector employer in the country, which has been considered a sort of success story and a hope for a brighter future. Bono’s clothing line, Edun, sources as much of their products as possible from Lesotho. In this powerful video, Bono pleads for other apparel brands to follow him in sourcing from the country.

Other brands did follow. And other factories sprouted. They brought the good - jobs . And they brought the bad - denim rivers.

Hopefully the pollution into the river from the factory making our GAP and Levi’s jeans can be halted. Hopefully Lesotho’s economy can grow so parents can get good paying jobs and their kids don’t have to work in the dump.

Development isn’t perfect and neither is the garment industry. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t ask more of our brands and the factories they support.

At the end of the video, Bono is seen in a village in Lesotho carrying a crying baby. I’m up late writing this and, for a moment, I thought that it was my own baby girl Harper who is down for the night. The cry sounded exactly like hers.

If that’s not enough reason to do better and ask more, I’m not sure what is.

Kelsey Timmerman is the author of Where Am I Wearing? A Global Tour to the Countries, Factories, and People That Make Our Clothes. He believes that corduroys are nothing more than socially acceptable sweatpants.  If you want to learn more about where you are wearing, participate on Twitter or email him at kelsey@travelin-light.com This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .

The other day I was driving through Farmland, Indiana.   It was rush hour somewhere, but not in Farmland that day...or ever.

The town has a population of 1,340 plus one guy who looked a little out of place.  He was doing the strut where one arm swings and the other holds the waist of his pants to keep them from falling below his knees.

“I wonder where his underwear were made,” I thought, because that’s how much of a problem I have.

I'm not against the baggy-pants look, but Farmland is the kind of place where keeping your pants up is such a priority that suspenders are often employed; fashion be damned. So it’s no surprise that my next thought was, “That boy needs a belt.”

I don’t normally wear a belt, but, inspired by the beltless Farmlander, I am today. Also, I’m training for the NYC marathon and my pants are starting to get loose.

My belt was Made in the USA -- Maine to be precise.  Jim Taylor’s company The Belted Cow produced the belt and the design is the work of artist Scott Earle.  Only 3% of our clothes are still made in the U.S. and I always enjoy learning about how domestic companies compete.  It isn’t easy.  Jim sent me an email after reading “Where Am I Wearing?” explaining:

My wife and I started a small business in 2004 that works with gallery artists (not apparel designers) to create unique artwork for casual belts and accessories.  We make all our products in Maine.  We have to compete with a lot of companies that outsource their manufacturing to the regions you write about.  It is very difficult to compete on price with these companies because their costs are much lower than ours (including freight in).  For instance, my flip flops cost me 4 times what my competitor pays for his from a Chinese company.

I think people know why many products made overseas cost less to buy and why companies like Wal-Mart are doing so well.  In my experience, customers do like to buy apparel made in the US and our customers like the fact that Belted Cow products are Made in Maine.  However, they are not willing to pay too much of a premium for that.

Sourcing domestically has its own challenges.  For apparel, it is typically more expensive (relative to overseas) and it is getting harder to find high quality factories to do your work.  The domestic apparel industry just does not attract people like it used to. In my experience you are lucky to find a factory with workers like you found in Perry (NY) who have many years of experience and are committed to what they do.  But who will take their place?  There aren’t a lot of young applicants for sewing jobs in US factories. I have been in many domestic apparel plants and they sound similar to the ones you visited in terms of the physical plant.  They do seem very different when you look at the average age of the workers and how they are treated in terms of compensation and opportunity.  That is the premium you pay for when you buy a US made garment.  I think it is worth it.

Only 3% of our clothes are still produced in the United States. The garment industry is gone and isn’t coming back, but there are a brave few, like Jim, who have found their niche and are holding on.  Not only do they compete with highly-skilled cheap labor and cheaper materials, the declining domestic garment labor force may not be sustainable.

Cue B.B. King: The skill is gone. The skill is gone away from here. I know you done me wrong...and the skill is gone.

I think many of us associate American-made with quality (ignoring automobiles), but that might not be the case anymore.

I’m proud of my belt.  I know it’s story about Jim and his wife and about Scott, the artist, who they commissioned.  I’m so proud of it that I might buy another and the next time I pass through Farmland and see the fella with the baggy jeans, I’ll give it to him.

It would be worth it.

--

Let's get the conversation started: Do you try to buy American/Canadian/European? If so, why and how much more are you willing to pay?

Kelsey Timmerman is strongly anti-plumber's crack and pro-belt. If you want to learn more about where you are wearing participate on Twitter or email him at kelsey@travelin-light.com.

That’s not “horrible” you’re probably thinking to yourself.

Obviously you don’t subscribe to Esquire magazine.

Anytime I see D&G on a shirt or handbag, my mind is flooded with the image that greets me each month I crack open a new Esquire. There’s this fella, who also looks like he was made in Italy, floating in what appears to be a life raft, but he looks too busy casually flexing his abs to be concerned about his life, so maybe it’s just a raft. Anyhow, he’s sweaty and is wearing a white Speedo (he definitely must be Italian). The Speedo has two strings with tiny metal aglets on the ends. The strings are way too short to tie into anything that could be labeled a knot, but even if they were long enough, they wouldn’t serve much of a purpose because they are on a Speedo.

The ad is for some type of cologne—or I should say eau de toilette. It was bad enough facing the white life raft Speedo ad once a month—slowly turning the pages hoping the next one was not The Ad. But now that I know my LensCrafter’s glasses are D&G, I’m afraid I’ll be reminded each time I put them on.

Well, at least with such a high-end “Made in Italy” brand I don’t have to be concerned with the conditions in which my glasses were manufactured, right? That’s what I thought when I bought them.

I wasn’t shopping for a designer brand. I just wanted a pair of glasses that wouldn’t break or bend when I sat on them, as I often do. They looked sturdy and they were made in Italy, which I felt a little better about than all the others that were made in China.

But after a little digging I learned that “Made in Italy” doesn’t necessarily mean that a product is made by Italians. Sometimes it means Made by Imported Cheap Chinese Labor.

The Chinese workers work twice as long as their Italian counterparts and earn half as much. Much of their wage goes to paying off the debt they incurred to get to Italy. They are the indentured servants that neither Dolce nor Gabbana want us to know about.

“The Italians are funny like that,” one such Chinese worker told the UK’s Daily Mirror. “They want what we have to offer—they are so proud of their luxury handbags, shoes and clothes—but they would prefer that we weren't seen or heard.”

An Italian manufacturer using Italian labor told the LA Times that he’s not happy about this either. “That's plain wrong,” he said. “When you have a product like Prada or Dolce & Gabbana, you are not supposed to use illegal workers ... 'Made in Italy’ means tradition, know-how and standards. It means not only made in Italy, but made in the Italian way."

A recent piece on The World revealed a similar situation with Made in Spain products.

While newspapers report and labels are shamed, while brands cover up and consumers gripe, the Chinese workers, far from home, work away. Theirs is a tradition of hard work. And although their hours and wages are difficult for us to relate to, their motivation is not.

As one Chinese worker told The World: “A Spaniard might say I have my house and my car, I’m not going to work for 7 dollars an hour. But me, I’ll work for that wage for 12 hours, because the more I earn, the more I have, and my child will have a roof over his head.”

I’m not sure if my glasses were made by imported Chinese labor or not, but one thing is for sure: Next month when I flip open my new Esquire and am confronted with the fella in the white Speedo, I’ll be looking through the same pair of glasses as I did last month, but I’ll see things much differently.

When you write a book about following the tags on your clothes around the world you get a lot of questions.  The most common is “Why?” which acts as a constant reminder that there is a fine line between first-time author and crazy.

At a book reading a woman asked me to check the tag on her bra.  In case there are some fellas that think this might’ve been a good thing, it was not.

People continually ask me where I am wearing.  I normally know.  I’ve pretty much committed to memory the countries of origin of every item in my wardrobe.

I also get “Guess where my shirt was made,” as if I were a carny that guessed things about people including their age, weight, and country of origin of their capris. The thing is, I’m getting pretty good at the country of origin guessing.  I prefer to stay away from age and weight; those are dangerous waters, just one step better than running a “pregnant or not pregnant booth” where you guess if there is life or Oreos in a woman’s belly.

In case you find yourself confronted with the “guess where I am wearing” request, I thought I would share some of my secrets with you.

Shoes are easy.  Always guess China. You’ll get it it right at least 80% of the time.

When I have to guess the origin of a T-shirt, I always guess Honduras.  About 2 million new shirts hit the shelves per year in the U.S. and 20% of them come from Honduras.  If you’ve given a second chance go for Mexico.  (Here’s a graphic representing where we import our T-shirts from).

If something is knit go with India, Pakistan, or Bangladesh.  I don’t have any numbers to back this up, but it works pretty good.

If someone asks you to guess where their underwear was made, they are trying to pick you up and they could probably care less what you answer.  Run or enjoy it.

I’m still working on my methodology, but I’m honing my skills.  Actually, I could use some help. Tell me where you are wearing in this comment thread and/or participate each Wednesday on Twitter.  I’m starting a new hash tag - #whereamiwearing.

So, today I’m wearing: T-shirt = Honduras / collared shirt = Thailand / jeans = Turkey / boxers = Nicaragua / flipflops = china #whereamiwearing.

How about you?

The reason I’m guessing is that I don’t have a whole lot to go on.  Sundance doesn’t have a code of social responsibility that I could find — unless, you count this stuff about the environment.  I’ve mentioned before that companies often shout from roof tops about the steps they have taken to ease their environmental impact (We care about the footprint, but what about the foot), but when it comes to social issues, their voices are mere murmurs if audible at all.

Still, I will give Sundance the benefit of the doubt that they do things right or at least try to.  Robert Redford is a champion of many causes and I don’t think he would lend his name to anything ethically dubious. Here’s how he describes the catalog:

“To us, Sundance is and always will be a dream. What you see, smell, taste and feel here is a dream being carefully nurtured. It is an area whose pledge is to people. What we offer in the form of art and culture, spirit and service, is homegrown and available to all.”

I must confess: I wish that Robert Redford was my dad. No offense to my actual dad, but how cool would it be to have RR reading you a bedtime story as a kid — heck as an adult.  When I read the statement above, I imagine that me and RR are watering our horses at the most idyllic mountain stream ever, and then he starts talking about Sundance’s “pledge to people” in that voice of his.  So, I believe every word.

My heart and gut believe that Sundance is a company that others should strive to be like. Just glance at their catalog and a few really cool things jump out: they sell some fair trade items and they support jewelry artists. That said, the catalog is disappointingly typical in one regard and leaves me asking the question that most catalogs do:

Where the heck is Imported?

The catalog features hundreds of items that are sourced from only five places. Quite a few things come from the USA — more than in most catalogs.  There’s dinnerware from Spain, Rodeo Fringed boots from Italy, and a bracelet fit for a Mayan king made in Mexico.  But the majority of items were Made in Imported.

Why can’t we know up front where an item of clothing we order was made?  As soon as we get the item, we’ll be able to look at the tag and see.  Some people don’t want to buy clothes Made in China because they don’t approve of their human rights violations.  Other may want to buy products made in Cambodia because the industry is more regulated than most.

All I’m saying is that we, as consumers, have the right to know where our products come from before we order them.  I think that most companies only list the country of origin when it is advantageous on the marketing side of things: “Checkout my Italian shoes…Oh, this spoon, it was made in Spain…I’m glad you like my bracelet; it was handcrafted in Mexico.”

Join me in sending a letter to your favorite catalog asking that they list the country of origin for every item they sell.

Here’s the letter I’m sending to Sundance.  Feel free to steal it:

Dear Sundance,

I’m a long time customer.  I’ve bought clothes and jewelry for my wife from your catalog. One of my favorite T-shirts is your long sleeve Camera Tee.

I love that you support artists, offer some fair trade items, and are environmentally conscious.  As an engaged consumer I not only care about quality, I care about where my products come from.  In your summer 2009 catalog, I noticed that many of your products are listed as Imported.  I would like to encourage you to list the country of origin for every item in your catalog.

Patagonia started doing this last year, and has forever won my support.  I hope you’ll do the same.

Thank you,

Kelsey Timmerman

Engaged Consumer

I wish my life was more like a Sundance catalog. I wish my father was Robert Redford. But most of all I wish Sundance would lead the way and list the countries where all of their products come from?

__

Kelsey Timmerman is the author of Where Am I Wearing? A Global Tour to the Countries, Factories, and People That Make Our Clothes.

Maybe your computer cam is on, you think.

Maybe I’m standing behind you.

Or maybe I know what you are wearing because we’re all wearing it — cotton.  (In fact, the first person who proves they aren’t wearing any cotton — nudity excluded — I’ll send a copy of my book “Where Am I Wearing?”). My shorts are 75% cotton and my shirt is 70% organic cotton.  Socks = all cotton.

I know what you are wearing and by checking the “Made in Labels” you know where you are wearing, but there is one question that I’m betting neither one of us can answer: where is the cotton we are wearing from?

A lot of cotton is still produced right here in the U.S. If your T-shirt says made in country X of U.S. materials, you’re wearing U.S. cotton.  If it doesn’t, it could be from anywhere.  Maybe Uzbekistan. And Uzbek cotton is some of the dirtiest around.

Wal-Mart, GAP, and pretty much the entire U.S. apparel industry have banned Uzbek cotton.

In Uzbekistan cotton production is largely blamed for the drying of the Aral Sea. “Fishing ports” are now 50 miles from the water.   The resulting dust storms cause tuberculosis and cancer.

During harvest season, buses don’t take kids to school but to the fields. Mind you, they are paid. But at the end of the season, if they didn’t pick enough cotton to cover the expense of the state to feed them, they owe.

How do you tell a nine-year-old, after months of work, that they owe you?

Are you wearing Uzbek cotton?  Hard to tell.  The majority of cotton, whether grown in the U.S.,  India, Brazil, or Uzbekistan, ends up in China.  Once there, it’s anybodies guess.

Watch this video:

Take Action:

The International Labor Rights Forum  has some tips how to speak out about the use of child labor in the cotton industry.  But it’s awfully hard to ban Uzbek cotton until we can trace it.

Where Am I Wearing today? I’m not exactly sure.

Kelsey Timmerman is the author of Where Am I Wearing? A Global Tour to the Countries, Factories, and People That Make Our Clothes. His wardrobe is 145% cotton.  And his math is bad.

On Global Labor Standards ...

Under Armour recognizes that conditions in its third-party suppliers’ facilities, and its supplier monitoring efforts may not be perfect. Nonetheless, Under Armour’s suppliers and their supplier’s subcontractors are expected to meet their legal obligations to their employees, and are evaluated to assess whether they respect Under Armour’s Code of Conduct.
 

Just so you know, I may not be perfect either.  Then again, I may be.
 

Overall, their Code seems pretty good.  In order to uphold it they must have to do an awful lot monitoring, right?  But alas, after reading page after page of where the code stands on labor laws, child labor, working hours, and more, this is the entire section on monitoring….

Under Armour's independent third party suppliers' factories are inspected to assess their compliance with their legal and contractual obligations, including their agreement to respect the Under Armour Supplier Code of Conduct. The inspections are conducted by internal Under Armour employees, and independent third-party monitoring firms.

Drats. The whole “we self-police our factories and use unnamed monitoring firms” bit doesn’t exactly give this engaged consumer much confidence that the Code is being upheld.

 
Let’s scan the headlines and see how the company is faring…

Under Armour cups subject to recall - Under Armour is recalling 211,000 athletic cups, because they can break if hit, posing a risk of serious injury.

Under Armour has received five reports of cups breaking, including an injury involving cuts and bruising.

I wonder where those cups were made?  Perhaps this is a result of Chinese quality fade.  Maybe they should moved their production to Taiwan or Honduras.

The other headlines are far less entertaining.  It seems that Under Armour is doing well even during these bad economic times. A couple of college labor rights group have waved their fingers at them, but it doesn’t seem like they have anything concrete to be upset about.

So, with that…

Dear Under Armour,

I’m a big supporter of your compression shorts.  I’m also an engaged consumer who cares about the environmental and social impacts of the products I buy.  Your Suppliers Code is one of the better ones that I’ve seen, but seems to fall a little short with regard to monitoring. How often are your suppliers monitored?  What third party inspectors do you use?  I think sharing this info on your site would show that you are truly making the effort to look after those who make your products.

Also, I scanned your site and noticed that none of your products list their country of origin.  Instead, the specs just say “Imported.”  If I order a new pair of compression shorts, the tag will tell me where they were made.  It would be great if you could let your customers know this upfront.  I understand that a product might be sourced in multiple countries, but couldn’t you list them all?

I’ve worn your shorts 200’ beneath the ocean’s surface while diving and 18,000’ above it while hiking.  I’m a big fan and I hope your company will continue to make a quality product that I can support.
 

Thanks,

Kelsey Timmerman
Engaged Consumer and Author of  “Where Am I Wearing?”

 

I'm going to break from the normal WAIW? Wednesday format and just touch on their recent battle with Woody Allen because it's just so darn popculture-tastic.

AA used Woody Allen’s photo on one of their billboards without his consent.

Allen is suing for $10 million.

American Apparel gave him the “Oh no you didn’t” finger wag and their lawyer Stuart Slotnick (what a great name for a lawyer, if I injured my back or was involved in a motorcycle accident, I’d call him!) countered with document requests and subpoenas digging into Allen’s personal life.

From a story in the Huffington Post:

American Apparel lawyer Stuart Slotnick said the company plans to make Allen’s relationships to actress Mia Farrow and her adopted daughter Soon-Yi Previn, whom Allen married, the focus of a trial scheduled to begin in federal court in Manhattan on May 18.

“Woody Allen expects $10 million for use of his image on billboards that were up and down in less than one week,” Slotnick said. “I think Woody Allen overestimates the value of his image.”

He said the company’s belief was that “after the various sex scandals that Woody Allen has been associated with, corporate America’s desire to have Woody Allen endorse their product is not what he may believe it is.”

One billboard featured a frame from “Annie Hall,” a film that won Allen a best-director Oscar. The image showed Allen dressed as a Hasidic Jew with a long beard and black hat and Yiddish text. The words “American Apparel” also were on the billboard.

Allen’s lawsuit said the billboard falsely implied he sponsored, endorsed or was associated with American Apparel.

Slotnick said it was not a cheap shot to bring up Allen’s sex life in a lawsuit over the billboard and Internet ads.

“It’s certainly relevant in assessing the value of an endorsement,” he said.

Allen on why he wouldn’t do an add for American Apparel:

“I’ve always been, from the start of my career, a special taste,” he said. “There have always been people that have loved me and there have always been people that didn’t know what I was about and couldn’t see anything in me.”

Allen also said ads shown to him by American apparel, including his rabbi ad, “have a sleazy quality to them” and were “not classy.”

He said if he were to do a commercial, he would have to be paid a lot and “it would have to be a very clever, kind of witty or intellectual-style” commercial. He said being asked to do an American Apparel ad would be like being asked to do a deodorant or cigarette commercial. 

This battle is fascinating because you have a guy, Allen, who has been involved in “grossly inappropriate” (a judge’s words not mine) conduct with his step-daughter suing a company headed by a man, Dov Charney, who has a closet full of well-documented sexual indiscretions. And both sides are slinging poo about the other’s image. But wait, now Charney is praising Allen:

I have deep respect for Mr. Allen who is a source of inspiration to me. The billboards and images from the Annie Hall movie were intended to be a parody/social statement and comedic satire to provoke discussion and public discourse about the baseless claims that had been made against American Apparel and myself, society’s reaction to lawsuits that delve into an individual’s private sexual life and the media’s sensationalism of such matters.

American Apparel tends to get great mileage out of their controversial billboards. Someone in their marketing department is probably getting a raise for this one. If their intent was truly to be a social statement to provoke discussion about society’s reaction to lawsuits that delve into an individual’s sex life, mission accomplished!

Sometimes I wonder if we are sheltered from really, really bad news or if there is just so much bad news that we can’t consume it all. And then I see the weekly Lindsay Lohan update (OMG! she spent the night at her ex’s) and I know it’s the former.

The other day @sonnyjohl pointed me toward a story in the UK’s Daily Mail about 125,000 Indian farmers whose suicides were being blamed on genetically modified crops.

Here’s a brief story of one farmer:

Shankara, like millions of other Indian farmers, had been promised previously unheard of harvests and income if he switched from farming with traditional seeds to planting GM seeds instead.

Beguiled by the promise of future riches, he borrowed money in order to buy the GM seeds. But when the harvests failed, he was left with spiralling debts - and no income.

Shankara, like most of the other killed himself by drinking pesticide. This is gruesomely recalled in the story written by Andrew Malone, “most swallow insecticide - a pricey substance they were promised they would not need when they were coerced into growing expensive GM crops.

“…the Indian Ministry of Agriculture do indeed confirm that in a huge humanitarian crisis, more than 1,000 farmers kill themselves here each month.

Simple, rural people, they are dying slow, agonising deaths. Most swallow insecticide - a pricey substance they were promised they would not need when they were coerced into growing expensive GM crops.”

Twenty dollars buys 1,000 times more traditional seeds than GM seeds, which take twice the water and are still susceptible to bollworms and parasites. They also employ Terminator Technology, which sucks just like Terminators:

When crops failed in the past, farmers could still save seeds and replant them the following year.

But with GM seeds they cannot do this. That’s because GM seeds contain so- called ‘terminator technology’, meaning that they have been genetically modified so that the resulting crops do not produce viable seeds of their own.

As a result, farmers have to buy new seeds each year at the same punitive prices. For some, that means the difference between life and death.

And yes Malone points his finger at US. And by US I mean the U.S. biotech company Monsanto.

Desperate to escape the grinding poverty of the post-independence years, the Indian government had agreed to allow new bio-tech giants, such as the U.S. market-leader Monsanto, to sell their new seed creations.

In return for allowing western companies access to the second most populated country in the world, with more than one billion people, India was granted International Monetary Fund loans in the Eighties and Nineties, helping to launch an economic revolution.

I don’t think this is a very balanced story. The suicides are a tragedy of monumental proportions that don’t deserved to be dismissed as Monsanto tried, “there are other reasons for the recent crisis, such as ‘untimely rain’ or drought, and …suicides have always been part of rural Indian life.” But what, if any, good has come from the Magic Seeds? Are there any success stories?

Just as we are sheltered from Bad News, I think Good News is often kept out of the headlines because it doesn’t sell papers.

I don’t mind subjective journalism and, as such, Malone’s piece is powerful and you should go read it right this minute. Everyone should know about this. But subjective journalism dressed up like objective journalism is a disservice to the people written about and the reader.

Decide for yourself which this is.  Good or bad how do you like to receive your news?

This is going to be a brief Where Am I Wearing Wednesday because today I want to talk about feet more than shoes.  

The Shoe:

Merrell’s corporate code of conduct – I couldn’t find one on their site.  Contact them and join me in asking them what’s up with that:

The environment and labor practices both factor into my shopping decisions.  I scanned your website for your corporate code of conduct and couldn't find one.  Could you please direct me to it?

Thanks,

Kelsey Timmerman

Labor conditions in the shoe industry in China – Well, it is China.  When I visited there in 2007, I met workers who put in nearly 100 hours per week, even though the Chinese labor law stated they weren’t to work more than 44 hours.  The workers would clock out and then go back to work.  As if making our shoes was a privilege. 

Still, going barefoot sucks and non-Made in China shoe options are limited. 

I was speaking to a group of Labor Studies faculty the other day and the subject of fair trade shoes came up.  I stated that I haven’t seen a pair of fair trade shoes in which I would run a marathon (note: I don’t really want to run a marathon regardless of the type of shoe, but that’s beside the point).  They found this remark distasteful, but because they couldn’t directly argue the matter, they said, “Maybe we need to change our lifestyle – stop running marathons.”

Now there is a campaign I wouldn’t want to touch: Stop Exercising!  We Americans are tubby enough already.

The Foot:

Today is Earth Day and I haven’t stepped foot outside.  I feel like I’ve been huffing exhaust from the world’s most fuel inefficient SUV – light headed, sore throat, and feverish.   But I can’t turn on the news without hearing something about our carbon footprint.  Even my favorite TV show, 24, has reduced their carbon footprint and now claims to be carbon neutral.

This is great.  More and more corporations are jumping on board and offering environmentally-friendly products.  I’ve seen shoes made from hemp, others glued with glue that does less harm to the environment, and shoes packed in boxes that are 100% post consumer recycled.   As an engaged consumer, I’m happy to have these options.  Still, I want more.

What about the feet? We care about our footprint on the world, but what about our impact on one another.   Saving the environment is in style, but concern for the workers who make our shoes isn’t. 

Don’t believe me?  Call up any shoe company and ask them how they reduce their impact on the environment.  They’ll likely have a long list of ways their trying to do this.  Then ask them about what they are doing to ensure that the workers who make their shoes are being treated fairly.  You’ll soon find yourself lost in the corporate phone chain.  

This Earth Day, I’m glad to have the option of buying environmentally-friendly shoes, but what I’d really like to see is a pair of socially-conscious shoes.

Know of any?

It’s neither one hour before bed nor one hour after, and I’m wearing pajamas. I realize that this is totally unacceptable.

Like drinking alcohol before noon, wearing pajamas after noon is a sign that you have a problem.

I have a problem.

Or do I? Maybe it’s these darn social norms, these social sensibilities regarding fashion, that are the problem. Why is it that I can’t be at my most comfortable all the time?

Wouldn’t the world be a better place if everyone just wore pajamas?

Think about it. Folks would be happier because they are more comfortable. Crime would go down because most pajamas don’t have pockets to conceal, say, a switchblade. I was going to say that we would all be more equal without expensive suits and fancy shoes that distinguish the CEO from the bank teller, but, I suppose, expensive silk PJs sewn together with gold thread would become all the rage among the rich.

But if everyone wore pajamas like mine, maybe it could make a difference.

I only know of three professions where it is acceptable to wear pajamas:

1) A pajama model – It’s good work if you can get it.
2) A writer – This is my excuse. Some days I don’t leave the house and my cat Oreo is the only one that sees me. She already thinks that she’s my superior so I really don’t have any ground to lose there anyhow. (A confession: I put on a pair of jeans before my wife gets home so that it looks like I did something.)
3) A garment worker – When you get paid less than $2 per day, who’s going to say anything?

My pajamas were Made in Cambodia. It was in Cambodia that I first saw workers wearing PJ’s to work.

My PJ’s are from the Genuine Sonoma Jean Company. With that said, let’s see what I can learn about them using our WAIW Wednesday methodology.

1) About the Genuine Sonoma Jean Company -

The Genuine Sonoma Jean Company is owned by Kohl’s. While Kohl’s corporate site has some stuff about being green on their front page, some digging is required to find their Terms of Engagement (PDF).

For the most part, the TOE holds suppliers responsible to their local laws: All Kohl’s Business Partners must operate in full compliance with all applicable local and national laws, rules and regulations pertaining to all aspects of factory operations in the jurisdiction of which they conduct business.

Some of their requirements are fairly vague and the language fairly shallow: Subject to the requirements of local law, a regularly scheduled workweek of no more than sixty (60) hours and one day off in every seven (7) day period are encouraged.

Let me just say that my dentist encourages me to floss regularly and, though I know I should, I usually don’t until the week or so before my appointment.

The TOE also does a few things that I found interesting, including defining child, “Child” is defined as a person who is younger than 15 (or 14 where the law of that country permits) or younger than the age for completing compulsory education in the country where such age is higher than 15.”

It also highlights section in bright yellow, giving great importance to a timekeeping system Working hours must be recorded by an automated timekeeping system. Whenever a worker is present in a facility, the worker’s time must be recorded and the worker properly compensated. This applies to both regular and overtime working hours and any time used for work preparations or repairs.

In China I heard of workers clocking out and going back to work. I don’t care how high-tech your time keeping system is, you can’t prevent that.

You might find the bit about 14-year-olds making your clothes distasteful, but you should keep in mind the context of the country. I visited Cambodia while trying to track down the folks who made my blue jeans. When I was there someone told me that I had to go to the dump. When I did, my perspective changed. Nicholas Kristof, the New York Times columnist did a similar thing that’s worth reading. However, I disagree with some of his assertions. This post is getting plenty long so here’s a link to my arguments to Kristof’s piece.

Cambodia happens to be on of the better run garment industries and heavily monitored by the International Labor Organization so it’s doubtful that my PJ’s were made by someone under 18. But you never know. I’m sure a lot of my other clothes were.

2) Kohl’s under fire -

Kohl’s, as one of the largest players in the American apparel industry has its fair share of skeleton’s in the closet.
Green America has a Responsible shopper profile on them . And the Daisy Fuentes line got pulled in 2007 after sweatshop allegations.

3) The Garment Industry in Cambodia –

The garment industry accounts for about three-quarters of Cambodia’s exports and the global economic downturn is hitting Cambodia hard. Workers who came from the villages to work in the garment factories because they didn’t have much better options, are losing their jobs. Here are a few recent headlines:

Cambodia’s Garment Workers Hit by Recession, Too
Garment Industry Unravels

4) Cambodia info -
GDP per capita – $1,200. Although I know that most garment workers earn half as much, about $50-$60.
Unemployment (2007, probably much higher now)– 3.5%.
Population below poverty – 30%

5) Be heard -

Join me in sending an email to Kohl’s - factory.compliance@kohls.com. Feel free to use the email I just sent or edit it to fit your concerns.

Dear Kohl’s,

I’m a consumer who realizes that my purchases have environmental and social impacts on the world. I choose to support companies that acknowledge their impact and try to lesson it. I would like to encourage the progress of your Green Scene program and ask for you to list from the countries from which you source.

Also, while searching your website, I didn’t see if any of the factories from which you source were monitored. Are they?

Sincerely,

Kelsey Timmerman
Engaged Consumer

Unfortunately, I have to leave my writer’s cave today, so I better go change out of my pajamas. If you bump into my dentist, tell him that I flossed this morning.

The point here is that anyone can take 5 minutes to learn about their clothes or other items they purchase. 

I’m sure the posts will evolve over time, but, for now, here’s the methodology.

1) Link to the brands corporate code of conduct, if they have one, and list what’s good about it and what’s not-so good about it.

2) Google “(brand’s name) + sweatshop” and see if any red flags popup.

3) Google “garment industry + (country of origin)” to see what the latest news is in the industry.

4) Give basic country facts: per capita income, unemployment rate, etc.

Feel free to suggest changes or additions to the methodology.

So, without further ado, let’s give it a go.

Today I’m wearing a pair of North Face cargo shorts Made in Bangladesh.

There aren't many in Central Indiana wearing shorts today; it's a dreary 18-degrees.  But coming off of a long winter, bearing my legs cheers me up.  I'm trying to fool myself that summer is here.

North Face is owned by the VF Corporation, the world's largest apparel company. It took several clicks to find this out and several more to locate their code of conduct and compliance materials. VF also owns North Face, Reef, Lee, Rustler, Nautica, and many brands.  Overall, this stuff wasn't burried on their site which was nice to see.

1) Corporate responsibility

The good –

The VF Corporation has the standard code of compliance.

Provide info on their auditing procedures (13 pages, PDF) and global compliance report (40 pages, PDF).  Although ther comliance report is from 2005. Weird.

Audit Procedure – “Nothing can be done even a sample until a factory inspection has taken place. Will be done by an accredited auditing company. Conduct an annual review.”

“Due to political, environmental, and human rights issues there are certain countries
that are deemed unacceptable for the manufacture of VF products. This is a
continually changing situation, so the VF compliance office maintains an updated
listing.”

Works with Worldwide Responsible Apparel Production

Hires Verite to train factories on compliance.

The not-so good–

Don’t reveal factory locations.

Only two of their brands – Lee and JanSport – who work with the FLA reveal their factory locations. They do because they sell to colleges. This shows the strength of the Sweatfree movement on college campuses.

Brags that average score of their owned/operated factories is 96% compliant, but the factories are graded on their own grading scale.

2) Negative press –

Humanitynews.net complains about the purchase of North Face uniforms for their police force : “Some police uniforms come from Horace Small and North Face, affiliates of the largest apparel corporation on the globe, VF Corporation. They don’t list factory locations, but Horace Small participates in W.R.A.P., a non-profit monitoring contractor. (Other affiliates of VF Corp., such as Nautica, are known to have sweatshops in Myanmar, which is a military dictatorship.)”

3) Made in Bangladesh in the news

From the Daily Star 3/25/09

"BGMEA leaders yesterday sought assistance from the government to check labour unrest that they fear will flare up in the coming months.

Bangladesh Garment Manufactures and Exporters Association (BGMEA) leaders fear many garment factories would be shut in the near future and factory owners would not be able to pay wages to workers on time due to decreasing exports caused by the global financial meltdown."

4) Bangladesh Facts

Per capita income – $1,400. Considering that the workers I met in Bangladesh earned between $30-$70 a month, this # shows that per capita income isn’t that useful when looking at how much garment workers actually get paid in a particular country.

Unemployment – 2.5%. This seems pretty good until you consider…

Population below poverty – 45%

That's where I am wearing today, how about you?

People always use Japan and Taiwan as recent examples of moving from garments to big, bustling economies. They say that places like Bangladesh and Cambodia are on the same path.

But business moves faster now.

This year I might source my widgets from Mexico, but next year maybe China or Indonesia.

Speaking of Mexico, it sits there right beneath the biggest bunch of spend-crazies in human history. Few countries sought to benefit more from the global economy than Mexico.

So Mexico, how’s that going for ya?

(From Elizabeth Malkin’s piece in the NY TIMES NAFTA’s Promises Unfulfilled)

Domestic industries were dismantled as multinationals imported parts from their own suppliers.

Local farmers were priced out of the market by food imported tariff-free. Many Mexican farmers simply abandoned their land and headed north.

Things grew worse when the tech bubble burst, the American economy cooled and the companies moved to China, where they could pay even lower wages. Once China entered the World Trade Organization, Mexico lost much of the edge in exporting to the United States that Nafta had given it. Employment in Guadalajara’s I.T. factories dropped 37 percent in 2001 and continued to slide for two years.

There is no doubt that trade can lead to development. But industry has to stick around long enough to give that development a chance. Maybe business moves too fast now to create more Taiwans and Japans.

There are a lot of adjectives that get thrown around to describe consumers.  Mindless comes to mind.  But there are others too, such as conscious and ethical.  In my book Where Am I Wearing? A Global Tour to the Countries, Factories, and People That Make Our Clothes I make the argument that we should strive to be “engaged” consumers.

I usually don’t get hung up on semantics, but I have a problem with the term “conscious consumer”.  I’ve met plenty of folks who are aware of the social and environmental impacts that their shopping has on the world and its people.  In fact, before I left to research my book pretty much everyone I met was conscious of the issues surrounding the garment industry.

“When you tell a normal person with a normal job, rent, or a mortgage, and a car payment, that you are spending thousands of dollars to go to a country because that was where your T-shirt was made, first they’ll think you’re crazy and then they’ll say something about sweatshops.”

The thing is, no one applied this knowledge to how they shopped.  There is a disconnect between knowledge and habit. So few of us are engaged. 

We love the ocean and know that trawling for shrimp does irreparable damage, but we don’t ask our server how the shrimp on the menu was caught.

We hear about a brand’s product being made in a “sweatshop” (I hate this term; expect this to be addressed in a future post) so we swear off the brand without telling a soul.

For a second or two we wonder why catalogs list a product’s country of origin as only one of two things: “Made in USA” or “Imported”.  When we get the T-shirt, table, or toy, it will say right on the tag or packaging, but for some reason the info is kept from us in catalogs.  This bugs us a little, but not enough to make a phone call or send an email.

Awareness and consciousness are passive.

Since my global quest to meet the folks who made my clothes I’ve been converted to being an engaged consumer, but I’m still a work in progress.  I’m still deciding what to buy or not buy and what brands to support. How to interact with the global systems such as the ones that feed us, clothe us, and put fuel in our cars so we can drive to work.

If you’re wondering what lengths I’ll go to investigate a product, all you need to know is one thing: I went to Bangladesh because my underwear was made there.

This blog will document my adventures as an engaged consumer.  I’d be happy to hear yours.