Guest Contributor • Petra Geiger
As a youngster, I remember gawking as my Grandma poured green-tinged water from the beans she’d just boiled for our dinner into a cup. It sat on the window sill and cooled until she gulped it down. Back then, even vitamins weren’t wasted. In the Seventies, my mom shopped at a bulk food store, scooping nuts, granola, beans and sometimes candy from salvaged whisky barrels into brown paper bags. She darned our socks, made homemade yogurt, and our Tupperware consisted of recycled margarine containers. She was not penny pinching, we were solidly middle class urbanites, this was just normal behavior. In retrospect, my childhood looks antiquated.
Things changed drastically in my teens. During the mid 1980’s, as the economy boomed, all of a sudden it seemed like stuff was everywhere. A steady stream of cheaper, more readily available merchandise fueled a frenzy that was intoxicating. Almost overnight, we shifted from buying stuff we needed, to buying stuff we just HAD to have. Items once passed down generationally, like furniture, were eagerly discarded in favor of trendy new pieces designed to be replaced every few years as HGTV sparked our imaginations. My kids have grown up in a world where everything you can imagine is available at your fingertips and delivered to your door in days. During their childhood, stores like ToysRus dominated the market with aisle upon aisle of cheap plastic toys to tickle their fancy and fads like silly bands mercilessly vying for their attention.
For the past few decades, fast fashion has furiously set the pace and we’ve grown accustomed to replacing things before they’ve even begun to wear out. I’ll admit, I got carried away too. As part of Gen X, I, like many of my cohorts, feasted on the excess without thinking about the consequences. Right now, I have enough shoes in my closet to last a lifetime. Increasingly this makes me uncomfortable. In part, the perilous condition of our planet has awakened my conscience, but also, watching Gen Z has opened my eyes. They are starting to eschew the excess and are more deliberate and conscious in their consumption. They want to know the ingredients. They understand the perils of an unfettered, global supply chain. They thrift for fun. I can’t help but wonder if things are coming full circle.
My daughter uses an app called Yuka to analyze the labels of the food products and cosmetics she buys. She uses a shampoo bar to reduce plastic packaging and a biodegradable bamboo toothbrush. My son prefers travel and experiences over things, he is content with just a few pairs of shoes and much to my chagrin, has no problem with a hole or two in his socks. We are byproducts of vastly different consumer experiences, but seeing the future through their eyes, and remembering how my Grandmother lived, makes me want to live more sustainably in all realms of my life.
I’ve realized that it’s not terribly difficult nor burdensome to change, it simply requires that I accept some fundamental principles and understand that it’s an imperfect process. After all, I have decades of blind consumerism to undo. The personal tenets I’ve internalized are;
I must educate myself.
I must be conscious of my behavior.
I must commit to change.
I must break bad habits and give new habits time to solidify.
I must accept that each step, no matter the size, counts.
I must start now.
Three years ago, after a move across the country, I decided to make one change every 6 months at minimum. Some were easier than others, but the upshot is that, year over year, my life is more sustainable. I’ve made 8 significant changes, and they’ve stuck. I find that after a few weeks I no longer miss what I’ve eliminated. Next up, I’m tackling my organic food waste. Since Los Angeles, where I live, shockingly doesn’t collect compost, I will be training myself to collect my food waste in a bin and bring it to the collection station at my local farmer’s market. It feels good making these changes. I don’t fool myself into thinking that I will live like my Grandmother, but I will always remember my roots. I still have a long way to go, especially when I spot a cool new pair of shoes that I just gotta have, the endorphin rush of a brand new purchase can get the best of me. Sometimes I cave, I’m far from perfect, but at least I’m tuned into the process and have some new stop gaps in place.
8 Changes I’ve made towards a more sustainable life.
1. Ban disposable plastic bottles and plastic grocery bags from my life.
Seeing the waste, plastic bottles overflowing garbage cans, and knowing that it takes 450 years for a plastic bottle to break down led me to my first ban – no more plastic bottles and bags, ever. I am militant about carrying my reusable bags with me everywhere, skipping store provided bags whenever possible.
2. Ban plastic food storage containers & plastic wrap.
It has been estimated that the average person might eat 5 grams of microplastics in a week – about the weight of a credit card. My next move was to phase out all plastic storage containers and ziploc bags and invest in a few good glass containers. I also got some fabric covers as a gift and use them all the time! When I need storage bags or garbage bags, I buy a compostable brand.
3. Switch to all-natural cleaning supplies.
Flushing harsh chemicals down the drain feels wrong. Not to mention that breathing the fumes is detrimental to your health. As I used up my traditional cleaners, I made the switch to eco-friendly cleaning products, experimenting along the way until I found some favorites – here is a great round-up of recommended products.
4. Eliminate paper towels.
Firstly, I mounted a hook above the kitchen sink to keep a dish towel handy and invested in a roll of reusable bamboo towels that I wash until they fall apart. They make me feel like I’m using a paper towel and are even more absorbent! Not only do I not miss paper towels, I’m saving over $550 annually!
5. Replace 1 for 1 in my closet.
I took a hard look at my closet and knew I had to change. I started by editing out items I wasn’t wearing and either donated them to Goodwill, sold them on Poshmark or at my local consignment shop Dresscue, or recycled them. I use old t-shirts for rags and even donated bras that I no longer wore but were in good condition – it was well worth the effort. Now, when I buy something new, it must replace something in my closet which is then discarded responsibly. This process makes me think twice about what I buy. Subsequently, I’m leaning into high quality, sustainable classics that I can wear for years.
6. Buy sustainable fabrics, ban virgin polyester.
I read a fantastic book called Worn: A People’s History of Clothing that delves into the history and production of fabric. It made me take a hard look at the apparel I buy, and now, 90% of the time, I choose natural fabrics that are sustainably produced. If I have to buy synthetic, I look for items made from recycled fibers.
7. Change my laundry habits.
Switching from those big plastic jugs of detergent to laundry sheets was a no brainer, and as a bonus I’m saving space. I also now wash all my clothes on cold, it’s just as effective, and I hang dry about 60% of my load – especially delicates and anything with synthetics like spandex. This helps them last longer and they’re no longer adding microplastics to our oceans.
8. Recycle not wishcycle.
After reading Kindhub’s article on recycling, I realized that while I was recycling, I wasn’t doing it properly. I was also doing a lot of “wishcycling”. Now, I clean out my containers so that the organic waste doesn’t contaminate the plastic or glass and I no longer throw the pizza boxes and milk cartons in the bin crossing my fingers that they get recycled. I’ve also educated my HOA and am seeing less styrofoam and other offenders in the recycling dumpster!
Petra is a branding professional and freelance writer based in Los Angeles.