It's no secret I love cool new things. I love technology, exploration, discovery and innovative ideas that make life better. I also love things that make me feel a little less guilty about the planet/healthier/like I can do it myself.
I've already discussed extensively why less stuff is just good overall for your general sense of well being and your wallet. How about we talk about less trash?
What do you think of when you think of the waste we throw out in a day?
This is what I can list without pausing: peels, packages, floss, tissues, nails, hair, damaged goods, food boxes and bags, dvd cases, sanitary stuff, empty lotion, cream, chemical, cleaning bottles, paper towels, fast food waste, messed up tape, Saran wrap....and I stutter to a stop there.
Bascially, I always believed trash was a thing and would always be a thing, like death, or taxes.
Then I found this YouTube video posted by Seeker Stories in April of 2010, which interviews a woman who only has one tiny mason jar of trash to show after two years of life. She doesn't even own a proper trash can.
How does this even happen? Especially in a society that the video claims throws out 4.3 lbs of trash per person per day?
Well, as the title of this video proudly proclaims, "You Can Live Without Producing Trash." The video then demonstrates how by choosing only the biodegradable, or living without, you can extremely reduce your waste (possibly, by increasing your laundry and travel expenses to composting sites, but hey, there are always sacrifices in this war against pollution).
The thing that caught my eye though, was the toothbrush.
It's bamboo. Like legitimate, food for fuzzy black and white cuddly pandas bamboo.
I love this idea and its not just because it has to do with pandas. I just like the idea of using something that won't sit uselessly for the next thousand years but can be broken down and fed back into the environment that supports me. All relationships are give and take after all and to me natural stuff done right is an investment, not a luxury.
A.D.D. Moment: Someday, I hope they can invent a thing that reduces the trash already buried in landfills back to their molecular state. In a sense, reverse the landfill. Wouldn't that be cool?
So, of course I did my research and found a website called Woobamboo, and wouldn't you know their mascot is a panda? They specialize in bamboo toothbrushes for you, your kids, and your pets and also have their own biodegradable floss (which comes naturally waxed). Eventually, they also want to sell their own brand of toothpaste that comes in biodegradable plastic tubes.
Ok, can we just pause for a minute and appreciate the fact the humanity is cool enough to even think of inventing biodegradable plastic? Science is so cool.
While exciting as this is, I still had a few questions about bamboo toothbrushes. What are the bristles made of? Are they dentist approved? Can you recycle ALL of the toothbrush? Is it affordable?
The answers?
The bristles are plastic like the other store toothbrushes, except they are recyclable with your other plastics. It just requires some plier pulling to separate the bristles from the stick and then you can use the wood for something else. If you are sighing about how having to do one more thing is ridiculous, let me remind you that retirement and the usual resulting inactivity will kill you. Having some tiny, regular things to do keeps you active and alive longer. Enough said.
Woobamboo claims they are dentist approved. It's always hard to really know the answer to that. According to the video I previously mentioned, there were no dentist complaints about her use of bamboo toothbrushes and homemade toothpastes, but I doubt she's downing the thousands of pounds of sugar the rest of America is consuming from their trash packages. Considering that, she might not even need a super powered toothbrush and fancy fluoride pumped paste to keep her purely whites buffed and well.
As for affordable, one Woobamboo toothbrush runs at 3.99, a four pack for 15, and a family pack for 17.50. Which is still a lot cheaper than the 6-12 dollar single toothbrushes you could find on Amazon. Now I know you've seen the 1.99 brushes at your grocery store, I have one, and admittedly, they aren't the best out there. You get what you pay for I guess.
I'm excited to see what else people can come up with. I expect to see a lot of cool innovations to wow me for the next fifty years.
Showing posts with label stuff culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff culture. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Black Friday No Way
Happy Thanksgiving!
Despite what you may assume from the title, I'm not bashing the idea of having Christmas sales so early in the year.
I AM going to get serious though. Every year, hundreds of thousands of people gather outside stores in the wee morning hours after Thanksgiving. These tired, turkey drugged shoppers then wait with increasing anxiety as the minutes slowly drag by until the store opens. Finally, one terrified associate is either bullied into or brave enough to turn the key and allow customers to swarm the store for the big sale.
Every year, someone dies.
That initial push always kills someone. A life, something irreplaceable and impossible to discount is lost. It doesn't happen very often, but it happens more often than it should.
Just to illustrate the point, imagine having to have this conversation.
"Oh, I'm sorry, how did your beloved family member die?"
"Sales shopping."
Really? Is it worth it for someone to lose their precious family member and never see them again in future Thanksgivings?
Not to mention the arguing, the bickering, the stealing, the shop lifting, the easy theft, and the total disrepair of morals that would have held true had the shoppers been more awake, alert, and less desperate.
Granted, some families can only afford nice things on this one particular day. Yes, stores are trying to depressurize the day with online shopping and extending the sale around that particular day to the rest of the month.
Still, someone always dies.
For stuff.
For things that will wear out and break down and in the end only bring a few moments of pleasure.
For things that can be bought at the same price with the right discount and coupon combo any other day of the year or afforded with the right savings plan.
Why?
Because we are impatient. Because it's exciting to race. Because stuff is presented as bright and shiny and needed.
Historically, there have been times when a single death was all it took to enact cultural movements. Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination triggered World War I. Emmett Till's brutal murder sparked sympathy for the Civil Rights Movement. Today, people are shot by police and gangsters and plenty are in arms to call for things like gun reform, end of racism and police brutality.
People die on Black Friday and all you hear is, "Too bad. Isn't that so sad?"
There are no loud wars on the stuff culture. There are no cries for dis-banning the practice of Black Friday. Wars on the stuff culture don't turn profits. People don't like hearing the word "no" or the phrase, "you don't need that" or "you can't have it." I guess the major difference between the people who die shopping and the innocent people who die on the streets because of gang violence is that there is no solid bad guy, except for our culture of stuff.
Sorry for the especially dark post. As you read this, this holiday season, remember the people around you, and be aware of them, love them, watch out for them, protect them. Even if they're not your baby. If you are shopping early tomorrow, watch for the people that fall and then fight for their lives.
It's more important than any 75% discount.
Despite what you may assume from the title, I'm not bashing the idea of having Christmas sales so early in the year.
I AM going to get serious though. Every year, hundreds of thousands of people gather outside stores in the wee morning hours after Thanksgiving. These tired, turkey drugged shoppers then wait with increasing anxiety as the minutes slowly drag by until the store opens. Finally, one terrified associate is either bullied into or brave enough to turn the key and allow customers to swarm the store for the big sale.
Every year, someone dies.
That initial push always kills someone. A life, something irreplaceable and impossible to discount is lost. It doesn't happen very often, but it happens more often than it should.
Just to illustrate the point, imagine having to have this conversation.
"Oh, I'm sorry, how did your beloved family member die?"
"Sales shopping."
Really? Is it worth it for someone to lose their precious family member and never see them again in future Thanksgivings?
Not to mention the arguing, the bickering, the stealing, the shop lifting, the easy theft, and the total disrepair of morals that would have held true had the shoppers been more awake, alert, and less desperate.
Granted, some families can only afford nice things on this one particular day. Yes, stores are trying to depressurize the day with online shopping and extending the sale around that particular day to the rest of the month.
Still, someone always dies.
For stuff.
For things that will wear out and break down and in the end only bring a few moments of pleasure.
For things that can be bought at the same price with the right discount and coupon combo any other day of the year or afforded with the right savings plan.
Why?
Because we are impatient. Because it's exciting to race. Because stuff is presented as bright and shiny and needed.
Historically, there have been times when a single death was all it took to enact cultural movements. Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination triggered World War I. Emmett Till's brutal murder sparked sympathy for the Civil Rights Movement. Today, people are shot by police and gangsters and plenty are in arms to call for things like gun reform, end of racism and police brutality.
People die on Black Friday and all you hear is, "Too bad. Isn't that so sad?"
There are no loud wars on the stuff culture. There are no cries for dis-banning the practice of Black Friday. Wars on the stuff culture don't turn profits. People don't like hearing the word "no" or the phrase, "you don't need that" or "you can't have it." I guess the major difference between the people who die shopping and the innocent people who die on the streets because of gang violence is that there is no solid bad guy, except for our culture of stuff.
Sorry for the especially dark post. As you read this, this holiday season, remember the people around you, and be aware of them, love them, watch out for them, protect them. Even if they're not your baby. If you are shopping early tomorrow, watch for the people that fall and then fight for their lives.
It's more important than any 75% discount.
Friday, September 25, 2015
Refocusing on Tiny Lifestyle and the Dangers of Stuff
Next to dreaming about the children's book I'm illustrating and the YA novel I'm perfecting, I love to dream about someday living in a tiny house.
The thing I love most about the tiny life style is the simple, freeing, economics. I am a single millennial who grew up in a home that promoted thrift. Since entering the adult sphere I've also learned that just because you have full-time work you are not guaranteed to do/buy whatever you want.
And I'd always believed my parents were saying "no" just for my moral character.
This, among other adult lessons I've been learning, is why the cheapness and freeing aspect of tiny house living is just so appealing to me. Anything that increases your capacity to save, while decreasing your financial stress has to be a good thing.
I'm not in a position to build a tiny house yet, but I do try to live the lifestyle in my apartment situations. This does not make me infallible though. If there is a lesson to be learned in my recent life, it's this. If you value security, then avoid environments that promote a "stuff culture."
The seductive allure for stuff came to me because I had moved into a stuff environment. When I first moved, I had a solid growing budget and the few belongings I managed to fit into my ancient Subaru was plenty for me. Then, I moved into the apartment. You'd expect a stuff oriented apartment to look like an episode of hoarders, this was not the case. This is was the other kind of stuff environment where possessions were few, but expectations and tastes were high. It was beautiful with matching furniture and designs that would make a fashionista drool. The smooth, clean appearances and alluring smell of candle wax made it seem like the perfect apartment. What I didn't know, was that beneath the fog of wax, lay a budget devouring serpent that demanded lavish offerings.
The culture of keeping up appearances is a stressful one. I knew I wasn't totally happy and that I couldn't jive with my roommate. In the end it really came down to a difference in values. As each month past, all the comments started to wear on me. Topics about appearances and the need to "look nice." Continual requests to be quiet when closing the toilet seat to avoid advertising the embarrassing fact that even girls use the toilet. How who owned the most stuff or more of the contract was used as a lobbying tool for apartment rules. Demands that all things bought for the apartment must be first approved by my roommate. The constant stress of needing to appear put together and upscale was making the apartment anything but. Underneath it all, was the glaring truth that it was just a facade that none of us could afford.
Not knowing any better, I tried to fit in. I hate black, but the Walmart black furniture was the only affordable kind that was easy to match. Normally, I would have trolled the thrift stores for wooden constructs from the 70's, but I had this indescribable need to "match" with the apartment. Maybe, I thought if I looked like I fit in, then I would feel comfortable there. I even bought candle wax because I was worried my room didn't smell as good as the rest of the house and I didn't want to smell obviously human. The hungry stuff serpent bit me every time I went grocery shopping. I had this unusual desire to buy things I could buy then, but not afford long term like candle holders, fancy mirrors, cardboard quotes, and other useless items that only served as decoration. My roommate once bought a cardboard quote for our bathroom when we had been without a trash can for a month. Why? This didn't make sense to me. I felt like I was in this limbo world where needs and wants were standing on their heads.
It took me four months to realize how much my roommates attitudes and anxieties were affecting my spending habits and personal sense of well-being. I have no other word for the environment, but toxic. It was like a really nice looking hell populated by gremlins who look like Jim Henson's stuff lady puppets from the Labyrinth.
Thankfully, the contract was loose enough that it was more of a month to month agreement. As soon as I heard there was a vacancy elsewhere I jumped for it. My roommate couldn't believe I was willing to risk my deposit and just leave rather than stay and wait until I could find a replacement. She couldn't understand how much my freedom from that place was worth more than the $200. That's how different our values were.
My new apartment is organized chaos. The furniture doesn't match, but we recently got a giant elbow leather couch for just $100. It's a little messy, but comfortable, and it doesn't stink of candle wax. Within one hour of moving in, I felt welcomed and at home.
The sudden move reminded me about how one of my goals this years was to NOT buy stuff. I wanted to always be able to move easily and the current amount of stuff I own just wouldn't allow for it. The two pieces of furniture I justify because I had always planned to discard it once I moved states again and/or built a tiny house. Had I not moved, I probably would now be broke and have three or four pieces of furniture. Since moving into my new apartment, this is the first time I'd even recalled needing bookshelves. Which I don't.
My point. Stuff is attractive and your environment will largely dictate how you react to the "need" for stuff. If you find yourself in an unhealthy environment that compels you to buy stuff you don't need or can't afford, it may be time to re-asses the issue. What needs to change? Is it a manipulative roommate? It is a family member who has an unhealthy attachment to getting things? Is it the people you hang out with, or the neighborhood you live in? I never want to be in a "keeping up with the Jones's" environment ever again. I don't know how people do that for years. Those four months were exhausting enough.
The thing I love most about the tiny life style is the simple, freeing, economics. I am a single millennial who grew up in a home that promoted thrift. Since entering the adult sphere I've also learned that just because you have full-time work you are not guaranteed to do/buy whatever you want.
And I'd always believed my parents were saying "no" just for my moral character.
This, among other adult lessons I've been learning, is why the cheapness and freeing aspect of tiny house living is just so appealing to me. Anything that increases your capacity to save, while decreasing your financial stress has to be a good thing.
I'm not in a position to build a tiny house yet, but I do try to live the lifestyle in my apartment situations. This does not make me infallible though. If there is a lesson to be learned in my recent life, it's this. If you value security, then avoid environments that promote a "stuff culture."
The seductive allure for stuff came to me because I had moved into a stuff environment. When I first moved, I had a solid growing budget and the few belongings I managed to fit into my ancient Subaru was plenty for me. Then, I moved into the apartment. You'd expect a stuff oriented apartment to look like an episode of hoarders, this was not the case. This is was the other kind of stuff environment where possessions were few, but expectations and tastes were high. It was beautiful with matching furniture and designs that would make a fashionista drool. The smooth, clean appearances and alluring smell of candle wax made it seem like the perfect apartment. What I didn't know, was that beneath the fog of wax, lay a budget devouring serpent that demanded lavish offerings.
The culture of keeping up appearances is a stressful one. I knew I wasn't totally happy and that I couldn't jive with my roommate. In the end it really came down to a difference in values. As each month past, all the comments started to wear on me. Topics about appearances and the need to "look nice." Continual requests to be quiet when closing the toilet seat to avoid advertising the embarrassing fact that even girls use the toilet. How who owned the most stuff or more of the contract was used as a lobbying tool for apartment rules. Demands that all things bought for the apartment must be first approved by my roommate. The constant stress of needing to appear put together and upscale was making the apartment anything but. Underneath it all, was the glaring truth that it was just a facade that none of us could afford.
Not knowing any better, I tried to fit in. I hate black, but the Walmart black furniture was the only affordable kind that was easy to match. Normally, I would have trolled the thrift stores for wooden constructs from the 70's, but I had this indescribable need to "match" with the apartment. Maybe, I thought if I looked like I fit in, then I would feel comfortable there. I even bought candle wax because I was worried my room didn't smell as good as the rest of the house and I didn't want to smell obviously human. The hungry stuff serpent bit me every time I went grocery shopping. I had this unusual desire to buy things I could buy then, but not afford long term like candle holders, fancy mirrors, cardboard quotes, and other useless items that only served as decoration. My roommate once bought a cardboard quote for our bathroom when we had been without a trash can for a month. Why? This didn't make sense to me. I felt like I was in this limbo world where needs and wants were standing on their heads.
It took me four months to realize how much my roommates attitudes and anxieties were affecting my spending habits and personal sense of well-being. I have no other word for the environment, but toxic. It was like a really nice looking hell populated by gremlins who look like Jim Henson's stuff lady puppets from the Labyrinth.
Thankfully, the contract was loose enough that it was more of a month to month agreement. As soon as I heard there was a vacancy elsewhere I jumped for it. My roommate couldn't believe I was willing to risk my deposit and just leave rather than stay and wait until I could find a replacement. She couldn't understand how much my freedom from that place was worth more than the $200. That's how different our values were.
My new apartment is organized chaos. The furniture doesn't match, but we recently got a giant elbow leather couch for just $100. It's a little messy, but comfortable, and it doesn't stink of candle wax. Within one hour of moving in, I felt welcomed and at home.
The sudden move reminded me about how one of my goals this years was to NOT buy stuff. I wanted to always be able to move easily and the current amount of stuff I own just wouldn't allow for it. The two pieces of furniture I justify because I had always planned to discard it once I moved states again and/or built a tiny house. Had I not moved, I probably would now be broke and have three or four pieces of furniture. Since moving into my new apartment, this is the first time I'd even recalled needing bookshelves. Which I don't.
My point. Stuff is attractive and your environment will largely dictate how you react to the "need" for stuff. If you find yourself in an unhealthy environment that compels you to buy stuff you don't need or can't afford, it may be time to re-asses the issue. What needs to change? Is it a manipulative roommate? It is a family member who has an unhealthy attachment to getting things? Is it the people you hang out with, or the neighborhood you live in? I never want to be in a "keeping up with the Jones's" environment ever again. I don't know how people do that for years. Those four months were exhausting enough.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)