"We met with linen and wool weavers and were blown away by the exceptional quality and beauty of the cloth they produced, as well as the depth of [textile] history in Ireland. We were in equal measure concerned by the decline in the number of weavers. They mentioned that they were losing out to cheaper cloth from abroad and that Irish buyers were few and far between."
Despite having to haul a dozen dumpster-loads of damaged goods out of the offices and the nearby Lab Store, to the tune of $1.5 million, Eileen said at the time, 'It was just stuff.' You can only imagine the emotions that might arise in a chief executive if they saw their sewage-soaked products floating by. Eileen and her staff did not linger there. They mobilized quickly-organizing carpools, impromptu meeting spaces, and arranging interest-free loans for staff needing cash during the crisis.
"They're everyday professionals who simply don't have the time to shop the traditional way," said Kneen about J. Hilburn customers. Instead, stylists manage fit, fabrics and wardrobe planning, effectively outsourcing the entire process for busy professionals.
Your eyes don't deceive you. The use of polyester has ballooned with time, according to Henry Navarro Delgado, an associate professor at Toronto Metropolitan University's school of fashion. It's partly because polyester can be quite useful, he said. It is a type of plastic made from petroleum compounds that are cooled and stretched into yarn, according to Michael Palladino, a fashion industry veteran and lecturer at Kingsborough Community College's business of fashion program in New York.
"I 'm the most hated man in town," Ray McKelvie told me. The town in question was Clinton, British Columbia, approximately 350 kilometres northeast of Vancouver, on Highway 97. Later, I asked another Clinton resident whether McKelvie's claim was true. She thought for a moment. "Well, there's Joe, who lives in the trailer park," she said. "We don't like him much either. But it's about even."
"Ironically, many if not most of these 'sustainability' projects remain disassociated from companies' core procurement strategies, meaning the coffee produced from these projects is not necessarily bought by the companies involved, or only in minimal quantities," the paper states. "And for the coffee that is purchased, prices do not factor into the project design, despite the fact that price is the single variable impacting farmer income that is in the direct control of companies."
This research-based design project by Laura Oliveira investigates discarded as a potential raw material for sustainable design applications. Human hair is produced continuously and in large quantities through everyday grooming practices, yet it is almost always treated as waste once separated from the body and typically disposed of in landfills. Despite its material properties, strength, flexibility, and durability as a keratin-based protein fiber, its remains uncommon within design and research contexts.
Just like that coffee cup, eyewear is a complex fusion of materials. Metal hinges are screwed into polymer frames, which hold chemically-coated lenses. This mix of metals, plastics, and coatings means standard sorting machines cannot process them. As a result, they are rejected as contamination and sent directly to landfills, where they contribute to non-biodegradable waste. Unlike a disposable paper cup, however, a pair of sunglasses is built for durability. Its high-quality components make it a perfect candidate for repair, reuse, or reinvention.
Europe's supermarket shelves are packed with brands billing their plastic packaging as sustainable, but often only a fraction of the materials are truly recovered from waste, with the rest made from petroleum. Brands using plastic packaging from Kraft's Heinz Beanz to Mondelez's Philadelphia use materials made by the plastic manufacturing arm of the oil company Saudi Aramco. The Saudi state-owned holding opposes production cuts under the UN plastic treaty and is the world's largest corporate greenhouse-gas emitter (over 70m tonnes up to 2023).
In the show, "dirty" extends to anything that breaks fashion's pact with propriety. Here are clothes caked in grime, blotted with makeup, stiffened by salt, pieced from trash, frayed, and faded. The garments span decades, from the 1980s through the mid-2000s, when the likes of Vivienne Westwood and Jean Paul Gaultier built their fame on defying convention, to today, when corporatization has made such daring increasingly rare. But forgoing practicality frees certain designers from the demands that the body be polite-and thereby policed.
