Amsterdam gets on the eco-wagon

Strangely enough, Amsterdam's very first major "eco-fashion event" took place last Sunday. Strawberry Earth Wonderland. It was put on by an organizer called Strawberry Earth, which advocates all things earth-friendly and apparently set a pretty tough standard for vendors. I stumbled across an article about it in a magazine haphazardly tossed into my goodie bag at an Expat fair full of booths offering tips, treats and memberships to social clubs. Of course I pulled this magazine out. Of course I flipped right to this page. I mean, coming from Portland it's like "Yeah, eco-fashion. Recycling plastic. What else is new, right?" But for these guys it is a road not yet traveled.

It's kind of funny, because although the Dutch are rather stylish in my opinion, they are also quite homogeneous and tend to favor "expensive" looks in a subtle yachting-on-the-weekends kind of way. There isn't much diversity, and my beloved old-fashioned grunge doll look that would barely raise an eyebrow in Portland gets all kinds of strange (and occasionally somewhat negative) attention here. Which sucks a tad considering I'm still finding my bearings and don't really want to stand out more than necessary when I stumble mounting my bike or roll up to a sales counter with nothing more than a "Goede Dag" to contribute to the Dutch conversation. Therefore wearing familiar things (i.e. cutoff pastel Gunne Sax dress with threads hanging down, messy hair and a shoulder-padded band conductor cum office woman jacket) has to be toned down a bit. Or does it? I still haven't gotten to the bottom of this one. Anyway, I was really excited about this event because I felt like I could not only see what's up in the Dutch eco-fashion scene, but I could also rock all things I love to the max and not be stared at. Which made me realize something.

Dutch people are really just getting started on this eco-bandwagon as far as fashion is concerned. There is hope that they will yet one day find second-hand girl ghost a fashion-forward idea. Even if they would never do it themselves.

The event itself was actually quite fun. It took place in (according to Matthias) the only cool nightclub in Amsterdam, Trouw. I could see how it would be a good place to party, although like all Dutch structures, the stairways were unnaturally steep and would be somewhat dangerous while inebriated. I arrived at the beginning and had the opportunity to talk to several of the designers (more on that later). It was really nice to speak with others who are as genuinely enthusiastic about their crazy recycled work as I am and have also had some success thus far. Etsy also had a presence at the event, teaching people how to make T-shirt yarn and spreading the word to get the Euros excited about the site. Apparently its rather secret here in Europe. Which is cool, it makes me a little more stoked to spread the word.

Alright, Amsterdam. You might be far more square than people imagine and not quite ready for vampire grunge doll in ratty fur coat on a daily basis, but you have accepted recycled, eco, fair trade and conscientious fashion that has legitimate whimsy and doesn't suck. I applaud you there. It's a decent start.

Musical Monday #2: K'Naan

I usually am not all that enthralled by hip hop, but sometimes I head off on a search for child-appropriate things to play in dance class that I also like. Although he is often totally inappropriate for children, this is how I found K'Naan. He is so elegant. What I like most about him is that you would think he'd be one of those "peace and love" dance hall type world music rappers, but he grew up in Mogadishu and is totally hardcore. In addition to being totally hardcore, he is totally a poet. He tells it high and low, oscillating between a taut, do-not-mess-with-me rage and spinning a tiny glimmer of hope into a thread to hold on to. He is an excellent storyteller. Check out his tiny desk concert for NPR, "Fatima" is my favorite.

Dear Jamie Oliver,

(photo from channel 4 on the Guardian website, guardian.co.uk)

Thank you.

I had recently seen advertisements for the new reality show about how we eat in America, Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. I knew it would be up my alley from what I'd seen, but I was completely unprepared for how emotional it was. I watched episodes one and two back to back, tears streaming down my face. This man truly cares about helping human beings live happier, healthier lives together and is going straight for the source. Food. Simple, healthy, seasonal food made from fresh ingredients and learning how to prepare it and eat it together.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a family where dinner was an unspoken requirement every evening, one I looked forward to. We had chicken cheesy breadcrumb, spinach raviolis from Costco with fresh tomatoes, spaghetti and meatballs, salmon with rice and green beans, and we always sat down to enjoy it together. Mostly my mom cooked, sometimes dad would put together stew or chili or spaghetti. Both of them almost always from scratch. Neither of them ever really asked us to do it though. Neither my brother nor I ever volunteered. So once freshman cafeteria year in college was over, I was totally lost. I relied on my then boyfriend for occasional healthy meals. On my own I ate mac and cheese. The boxed kind we were never allowed to consume as children. I ate instant potatoes, lucky charms, scones from the campus store and okay, here and there a hummus and cucumber tortilla wrap. All the way to my fourth year of school when I headed overseas to Germany.

Germany is where I learned to eat. Not necessarily because Germans have the healthiest food in the world (they don't) or because they do it all right. Maybe because they make a little bigger deal out of eating. But it was mostly because other people I met during my studies, and while living there after graduation, had been taught to cook and passed on some of their skills to me. That's really all it takes. Kristofer taught me to make Swedish meatballs with potatoes, Fläskpannkaka, and apple cake. Amy taught me how to make lasagna, and that pretty much any good simple pasta meal can start with olive oil, onions and garlic in a pan. Matthias taught me how to cut an onion and how to make my own spaghetti sauce. That no matter what you have to do in the morning, you must sit down to breakfast. Matthias also taught me, that regardless of how little money you have, there is never a better way to spend it than on good, healthy food. He swatted my hand away as it reached for colored marshmallow gummies at the grocery store, wrinkled his nose in disgust when I described the box mac and cheese of my adulthood. This was one thing everyone in our Berliner squat stood behind, and I'll never forget what our downstairs neighbor said when I moved in. He always had a crock pot of soup or curry from scratch in his kitchen available for anyone who dropped by with an empty stomach. "You will never be hungry here," he told me. And he was right.

So to everyone who has ever taught me how to cook a simple dish or fed me healthy food, thank you. To Jamie Oliver, I see what you're doing and it is a massive challenge. I support you wholeheartedly and I think between you and Mrs. Obama, we can get something accomplished here.

See him yourself if you have 20 minutes to spare:

It was just too cute.

Some of you may know my deep, dark secret already. For those of you who don't; I generally do not buy new clothing. In fact, this year, my new garment purchases have been limited to a bra for dance, seven pairs of underwear, and this here t-shirt. (Well, I guess you could also include a pair of leggings that look like jeans but...those were technically an xmas gift so...call that what you want.) If there is something I want, I make it. If there is something I need, I buy it second hand or it comes to me through relatives or friends. Why? You might ask. Because the textile industry is lame. Because in America, we throw a lot of things away before they're used up, and because I can sew. Now that you know this, you can see how badly I wanted this T-shirt.

Here are the reasons I caved: I got it from Threadless.com, so it's my little way of giving back to other weirdies out there who do what I do. Make art for a living. The original shirt was also manufactured by American Apparel, so I feel okay that the people putting it together were earning an average of $12 an hour (found on American Apparel's website) rather than the 80 cents per hour an average Chinese worker would receive, 43 cents an hour for a Sri Lankan or even as low as 33 cents for a Cambodian (numbers from "Shopping for Sweat" by Ken Silverstein, published in Harpers Magazine, January 2010). I am also a huge fan of entrepreneurs recreating a manufacturing sector in this country, something we've all but lost and are now feeling the pain. So, good for you Dov. Oh yeah, and it was on sale :)

Mr. Larkin? Is that YOU?

Whoa! So apparently Ali is assisting the lovely lady who makes these garments as we speak! This is a little bit how I want my springtime to look, (but a little more cyber grunge and less post apocalyptic nomad if you know what I mean...) Little did I know this is eco-friendly fine fashion from none other than San Francisco! I like. Check it out at mrlarkin.net.

...then I try and I made it

While world leaders are doodling around in Copenhagen, trying to come to an agreement about who should do what and how much they should pay to reduce human impact on the globe, some people are out here getting things done. Check out William Kamkwamba on top of his windmill in his Malawian village! Long story short, he had to drop out of school at 14 because his family could no longer afford the fees, so like any good citizen of the world he took charge of his own education at the local library. Without knowing English very well, he spent time poring over books with diagrams in his area of special interest: science. After seeing a diagram for a windmill and reading how it can produce electricity and pump water, he knew he'd hit the jackpot. He began salvaging materials from a junkyard and casually shrugging off naysayers until his structure was complete, working, and people formerly accusing him of insanity were lining up to charge their mobile phones!

William, high five.

As this is obviously an excellent story about an awesome person, William was invited to give a TED talk, worked with author Bryan Mealer to tell his story, and has his own blog. He is now 19, I believe, and studies in South Africa.

William Kamkwamba's Blog
William's TED Profile

photo from William's Flickr page