mindful consumerism

Last week, I began writing a list of me and The Cat's top five values for parenting as a potential letter to distribute to our family and friends when we decide to have children.  One of the items on that list was about mindful consumerism.  Then yesterday, I found this riveting short film, The Story of Stuff.

The messages of the film touched me profoundly and I haven't been able to get it off my mind since.  Two of the things that startled me the most were the concepts of perceived and planned obsolescence.  Since the end of December last year, I have been convincing myself that I need to purchase a MacBook Pro even though my current laptop, while a little on the slow side, is still functioning fine.  But the more websites and forums I browsed, the more I convinced myself that I needed the Mac until it consumed my every thought and my happiness rested on whether or not I was able to purchase the product.  However, as the weeks dragged on and rumours and leaks about imminent release of the latest update never came into fruition, I began getting anxious.  The Cat can testify that without even having purchased the product yet, just the concept of it being introduced to my life, was already causing me a lot more grief and frustration than satisfaction.

When I wrote about being less commercial and wasteful in the raising of our future children, I never realised just how necessary it was.  Although I always preferred handmade toys sourced from organic, sustainable and fair trade materials, there was a part of me that also asked "What's the harm?" if a well-meaning family member bought our children a Tickle Me Elmo (but you don't need to be a passionate feminist to see exactly what is wrong with Bratz dolls and their slogan, "Don't theorise... accessorise!").  What chills me now is that the short film highlighted those devastating effects that makes me think I could never look at a plastic, mass-produced toy from the latest commercial franchise the same way again.  I can hear the whisperings from family members about me being crazy already.

Although it sounds simple to choose organic, sustainable and fair trade, there's an ugly side to it as well.  It seems to have become the latest trend, targeted towards wealthy individuals with money to spare and who wants to assuage their guilt without really doing anything about it.  When I delved into making my own bath and body products mid last year, I came across many articles that revealed the loopholes around calling things "organic" and "natural" legally without it being actually 100% organic or natural.  When it comes down to it, corporations don't have to disclose everything and sometimes a buzz word on a stamp or packaging designed in pale green is all it takes to get us to believe we've paid our dues for our ecological damage.

I also hope there to be more people who see handmade as an avenue for promoting environmental awareness and responsibility rather than as just a business opportunity, let along jump on this doing-good-but-not-really wave and charge a premium.  I'm fortunate to have a job that pays me well and allows me enough leisure time to develop new craft hobbies.  I wonder why, aside from the initial curiosity, I decided to sell my jewellery last year on Etsy at all.  The profit I made considering the amount of time it took for me to make the jewellery, photograph it, write descriptions, answer emails and package and mail orders, was equivalent to minimum wage, and the people who avoid Etsy for their local chain jewellery store that sells a pair of earrings made from plastic beads for $2-3 would never consider purchasing handmade pieces for 10 times that price.  If I could do it again, I would have investigated using my store to promote mindful consumerism and made bespoke pieces at cost price.