The Triangle Shirtwaist Fire, All Over Again in Bangladesh

English: Image of Triangle Shirtwaist Factory ...

English: Image of Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire on March 25 – 1911.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The fire that killed 112 people and counting in a nine-story high-rise building in Bangladesh last night was in a sweatshop in which people were working late to make clothes for Walmart and Sears, news reports indicate. There were evidently no exterior fire exits, and people jumped from the top floors to get away from the flames.

ABC News also reports that Walmart was aware of issues at this supplier with safety as of last year, noting both that this is the worst fire on record in terms of fatalities, and that the death toll is supposed to increase.

In fact, this is merely a small part of the overall mortality from clothing factory fires in just the last five years alone, as they explain:

The Tazreen fire is the latest in a series of deadly blazes at garment factories in Bangladesh, where more than 700 workers, many making clothes for U.S. consumers, have died in factory fires in the past five years.

Ugh. This is so upsetting.

The utterly pointless sadness of this story eventually made a little angry, reminding me that I’d been meaning to put together a post about how completely unnecessary it is to buy any new clothes for children. Basically ever. Turns out, you can opt out, more or less completely. Which sounds better and better to me all the time now.

I’ll be the first one to admit that this kind of terrible tragedy was not my motivation when I resolved last year to buy all of Maya’s clothes (and many of her toys and books) used. But it sure will help motivate me to see the project through.

When I hatched my plan, I was thinking of reasons like those in this fascinating Slate piece by Elizabeth Cline, based on her book about the used clothing industry. Much like this 2001 documentary, Cline follows our castoff threads back to Africa, where a glut of cheap Western clothing has helped to decimate African clothiers.

Cline writes:

Most Americans are thoroughly convinced there is another person in their direct vicinity who truly needs and wants our unwanted clothes. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Charities long ago passed the point of being able to sell all of our wearable unwanted clothes. According to John Paben, co-owner of used-clothing processer Mid- West Textile, “They never could.”

Then there’s the high cost in natural resources that Tom Philpott pointed out in “Are Your Skinny Jeans Starving the World?,” in which he describes how the rising world demand for cotton produced in places like China is supplanting food crops.

He’s right, of course — clothes cost much less than they used to, at least in some shops, and that is leading us to buy more:

In 1985, Americans on average bought 31 items of clothing a year. Today, we buy roughly 60—more than one per week. And when we lug home our haul we’re not shy about making room in the closet: We throw out 78 pounds (PDF) of textiles per person—five times as much as we did in 1970.

Even setting all these high-minded reasons aside, when I think about Maya’s wardrobe, I also see the problem as a Mom. I’d like her to be decently clothed, but I also don’t want to fuss when she predictably ruins something, or grows out of it before she even has a chance to put it on. And I really am far too cheap to pay what children’s clothes cost new, just to have her wear it for the two seconds that she can fit into something.

Thus far, I’ve managed to keep clothes on her, and have bought new items on only, say, three occasions in her two years (excepting shoes, which are harder to come by in good condition). I’ve also collected sufficient used clothes to see her through, at this point, for several years to come, and so am actually done for a while, which is a relief of sorts.

One side-benefit of this approach is that I don’t go into big box stores much, which keeps the crazy requests for owl pillows to a minimum. Also, she has a lot of jumpers and dresses, which seem to end up on the used clothing racks for little girls in disproportionate numbers. I actually like the look of dresses, and with most, you can use them for two seasons because they pose as a “frock” in year two.

Here are few tips if you want to join me in my quest to recycle children’s clothing, one family at a time:

1) Buy ahead. Look several years ahead while you’re there in the store. Once you get a bunch, sort them by size, season and store away. I plan on telling Maya the “clothing fairy” has come again. We’ll see if she’s as naturally skeptical as her father.

2) Keep track of discounts. The thrift stores in my area have “customer appreciation days” where everything is even more marked down.

3) Get there early or very late. Most of the good items go quickly at yard sales, but you can also find worthy stuff on the last day of multi-day rummage sales, when it will be deeply discounted, typically by half.

4) Look it over. Check for loose buttons, stains and hanging threads.

I’ve found Hanna Anderson silk dresses for two bucks, like-new shoes for five, and wonderful winter coats for eight. You may still need to buy something like tights, but the bulk of the shopping will be done, with little money spent, and mostly just your time invested.

When you’re done using the items, be sure to find someone to pass on your goodies to, in order to keep the cycle going. Unless an item is stained or ruined, if we repurposed all these things our kids go through, we could really make a dent in the amount of clothing we all buy.

Obviously, there are other sources besides thrift stores, both for buying and selling used clothes. Here are some helpful links:

  • ThredUp.com and Mommy Cycle are sites that allow you to list like-new items for sale, and get a nice price for them, with a premium for higher-end labels in particular;
  • Craigslist, Ebay, and neighborhood list servs are always a good bet (though my local parents’ listserv is cutthroat, and I never seem to respond in time for the really great stuff), and here’s some alternatives to those as well for other types of items, like furniture;
  • Mom’s groups yard sales, church rummage sales, consignment shops and stores like Once Upon A Child, and locally staged events like those hosted by JBF are good options for donations or shopping;
  • If you are bold, you can let friends on Facebook know you need or want to unload items and see if there are givers or takers, or start a Facebook group for selling items and let folks in your area join;
  • You can also give them away on Freecycle.org, where the receivers are more likely to make use of the items;
  • Last, you can host a clothing swap — which  works well for both child and adult clothes. I attended a lovely one a few months back that had been going on every six months or so for years, and was overflowing with new fashion options. The ladies all brought booze and goodies, along with the unwanted clothing, shoes and jewelry, and it was quite the social affair! Great fun, as well as good for the closet, workers and the planet.

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I also held onto some of Maya’s smallest newborn items, which make nice baby doll clothes without the added expense of having to buy those. (And for a few more tips, here’s an earlier post I did on my love of the thrift, Green Tips for Thrifty Parents, and one on a thrift-store dollhouse I upgraded a bit.)

For more sentimental items their children have worn, I’ve seen people say on the craftier list servs that they plan to make a family quilt or a pillow from the fabrics, which would be a nice way to recycle those beloved reminders.

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Needless to say, in context, I’m well aware that all of this is a rather frivolous response to a serious tragedy. And even if some considerable number of us stopped buying new clothes tomorrow, would Walmart and the other major manufacturers wake up?

Maybe, but just for good measure here’s some information from a group working on the problem of deadly working conditions, the International Labor Rights Forum. They have been at the table with clothing manufacturers over the past few years, trying to broker an agreement on the most basic and fundamental of worker safety issues in Bangladesh: fire safety.

Here’s what their press release says about the latest on that:

In March 2012, PVH Corp. (owner of Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein, Van Heusen, IZOD, ARROW, G.H. Bass, and Eagle) signed an agreement with Bangladeshi unions, international unions, ILRF and other labor rights groups to develop a fire safety program to prevent future deaths in Bangladesh’s garment industry. The program includes independent inspections, public reporting, mandatory repairs and renovations, a central role for workers and unions in both oversight and implementation, supplier contracts with sufficient financing and adequate pricing, and a binding contract to make these commitments enforceable.

These steps certainly make sense to me. But there’s a catch:

Other brands implicated in large, deadly factory fires in 2010 – including H&M, Gap, JCPenney, Target, Abercrombie, Kohl’s and Carter’s – have also been invited to join the agreement. “Unfortunately, Gap Inc. withdrew last month from fire safety discussions and instead announced their own non-binding program, which lacks central elements of the fire safety program signed by PVH and Tchibo,” said Judy Gearhart, executive director of International Labor Rights Forum. Gearhart added: “We hope the tragic fire at Tazreen will serve as an urgent call to action for all major brands that rely on Bangladesh’s low wages to make a profit. Their voluntary and confidential monitoring programs have failed; now it is time to come together and make a contractual commitment to workers and to involve workers and their organizations in the solution.”

Carter’s? The Gap? H&M? Target? It’s very disappointing that this agreement’s truly basic set of precautions is missing from factories. I would hope, along with the ILRF, that this fire serves as a wake-up call to these big international brands that the world will sit up and take notice of this terribly ugly situation.

I really don’t want anyone to die — half a world away, trapped in a sweatshop — for any stupid shirt, and I’m sure you feel the same.

A fire exit — which is something we get here in the U.S. every time we merely go to the movies — plus some basic worker protections are not too much to ask. In 2012. A full 101 (freaking) years after people died in our own New York City under basically the same circumstances.

So it certainly wouldn’t hurt to mention these feelings to the folks at Walmart, Carter’s, H&M, Target or The Gap.

You could also consider sending along to the ILRF the proceeds from any yard sales you might have, as we will next spring, to support their sensible efforts to fix this awful, but eminently solvable, problem. Any little bit counts, and the justice of putting that kind of money back into fixing the dire problems in the clothing industry could give you just that extra wee fillip of satisfaction as you go through the unpleasantness of sorting and unloading your duds.

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Update:  

The Diane Rehm show ran a terrific segment this week on the situation with garment workers’ conditions in Bangladesh, and the guests also were unabashed in comparing the situation there to the labor conditions that led to the Triangle Shirtwaist fire. As one guest remarked, the textile manufacturers have managed the feat of “time-travel” — recreating the terrible working conditions from the U.S. in 1911. As in 1911, the managers of the factory had locked the doors, trapping people inside, due to a concern that workers would steal the goods. How sad.

At least the 1911 fire galvanized reforms. We can only hope that this one does the same.

Are We Done Mommy-Bashing Yet?

The now-notorious Time Magazine cover image of a woman breastfeeding her three-year-old son was accompanied by the obnoxious question “Are You Mom Enough?” I immediately recognized the tactic as identical to the New York Times’ similar pseudo-rhetorical question atop an article on my efforts on toxics, called “Is it Safe to Play Yet?”

Of course, these kinds of questions are not really questions. Instead, they are snark where journalism should be.

Obviously, I take the toxics question more seriously than the Times’ Home section. We should also try to figure out the issues, and challenges, posed by “attachment parenting” – not as a catty lifestyle question or a sneer at “natural” moms – but as a serious inquiry: what kind of parental attention do children really need to thrive? And what actually works for women and families, given these needs?

There has been a predictable media and commentariat kerfuffle about the Time cover, including some terrific responses, like the one from Lisa Belkin, that pointedly refuse to sit in judgment of other moms. And some have raised the issue of this young child’s privacy and exploitation by the magazine in pursuit of sales.

In addition to the annoying headline, the photo itself is a cheap shot, substituting the intimacy of breastfeeding for a defiantly sexy image with an unmistakable Oedipal subtext. In the wake of the much-hyped release of Elisabeth Badinter’s attack on attachment parenting, The Conflict, it does appear that there may be a staged effort to transmute the “War on Women” meme that is so devastating to (mostly male) conservatives into a messy girl-fight. (“No fighting In the Mommy War Room!”)

We shouldn’t let them get away with it, and largely, we’re not. But there’s more to the discussion than simply not taking the bait. When I actually read the article associated with the sensationalized cover, I almost yawned.

The underlying story is, essentially, an arch take-down of Dr. Sears, accompanied by a tiny side-box in the print version that pronounces a few of what it calls the key tenants of attachment parenting either “true” or “untrue” – based on “the science.” For good measure, Time also threw in a short oped from a comically self-caricatured father smugly touting the benefits of being a “detachment” (read: self-indulgent) dad.

While the profile notes Dr. Sear’s extensive empire of endorsements, it disappointingly fails to take him to task for endorsing total crap, like these freeze-dried sugar pellets posing as “baby-friendly health-food” yogurt blobs. Far more importantly, while it mentions in passing his aversion to formula, strollers and cribs, it doesn’t take such subjects seriously enough to explain what, exactly, parents might usefully think about with regard to these topics. (On a single subject, the on-line, but not print, magazine does look at the “cry-it-out” issue with more seriousness, which I appreciated.)

If Time was actually practicing an act of journalism, it might have explored the research on brain development and maternal physiology that leads to infant-mother bonding and growth, or the structural tensions between the expectation that women work after having children and the alleged consensus that the benefits of breastfeeding are clear.

Instead, the editors chose to feature a mother who is actually a fashion model as an example of the sheer, unmitigated glamour of breastfeeding, and to offer up lame anecdotes like the fact that Dr. Sears and his wife “subsidized” the staying-at-home of his children’s families (hey, those yogurt blobs pay well, I’m sure).

Those of us without endorsement machines for parents have to deal with the real options for families, and it’s not a pretty picture. Structural supports for women’s choices and the choices of families – on everything from breastfeeding to maternity leave to flexible working arrangements to childcare and preschool – are largely missing, meaning that for most families, rearranging their lives around children requires extraordinary effort, exhaustion, financial and career sacrifice and general making-do.

The article did describe Dr. Sears’ evident frustration with the perception that his advice is for women to stay home (though much in his own attachment parenting literature either subtly or not-so-subtly does suggest that, as the piece points out). Generally speaking, one would think this kind of discussion would benefit from some consideration of what women actually want to do with their lives.

For some, certainly, working in the home is the most fulfilling way to raise their family, and to fully embrace its inherent comedy. In contrast, for others like me, being at home, alone, every day, with a toddler, would lead almost certainly to madness, resentment and despair, in that order, and in fairly short order.

In either circumstance, as I’ve suggested previously, it would be idiotic to think that moms, like other humans, don’t suffer ambivalence, regret and grass-is-greener syndrome.

And while it is true that not all parents are equally gifted at the exacting performance that is parenting, anyone engaged at this level with the niceties of how best to do the job is really Not Part of the Problem. So this sort of discussion of whys and wherefores should be a judgment-free zone, a convo among friends over a coffee-flavored beverage, like in those soft-focus Taster’s Choice ads.

As a Natural-Parenting inclined mom with a generally gimlet, skeptical eye, I’ve had occasion to closely examine many of the tenets of attachment and “natural” parenting.

So I will gamely, even perhaps foolishly, propose that I will do Time magazine’s job over the next little while, by examining, each in turn, a set of propositions related to attachment and natural parenting, including the following sizzling-hot subjects:

  1. Toddlers – Are there brains in there?
  2. Mother’s intuitionBasic biology or bunk?
  3. Natural childbirth – Is it for everyone (but me)?
  4. Breastfeeding – Are boobies really better than that magic powder?
  5. Co-sleeping – Do babies always have to kick your face in the night?
  6. Baby wearing – Are strollers Satan spawn?

Ok, the question part is most unserious. But I will try to tackle some of these subjects – not from a place of asking ridiculous non-questions about parenting adequacy or the evil nature of some choices – but as a chance to reflect upon my own efforts seeking to understand and grapple with these topics.

And I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments about your own experiences, questions and conclusions concerning what was right for your family.

If you have topics to add, please drop me a line – maybe you’d even want to write a piece or two for the series. (Please! How about: Cloth diapers: Are they really full of poop? Annie, I’m lookin’ at you.)