There’s a few things I’ve acquired over the last year related to our new paddling hobby and our Baja kayak vacation…these are too good to keep quiet about!
This clever tote folds into itself to form a neat, light package that you can toss in your suitcase or carry-on. Then when you need another bag, just unzip the pouch and turn it inside out to create a spacious tote bag to toss over your shoulder. What makes this better than other packable totes is that the pouch itself becomes a nice pocket, and the mesh pockets on both sides of the bag…great for carrying water bottles or other things you want to have handy. The bag is so handy and comes in such nice colors, you probably won’t want to keep it stowed away for long!
I took this bag to Baja for an 8-day kayaking trip and found it to be absolutely perfect. It has the simplicity of a duffle bag with some nice features like interior pockets and a compartment for wet gear. But beware…when they say “beast”, they mean it. I decided to take a couple of heavy books and it was obvious that I could easily load this to the point of being too heavy to carry comfortably!
We love our kayaks, and were fortunate that someone more knowledgeable than us helped us decide what to get. The Tsunami 145 has a nice big cockpit, making it easier to get into and out of the boat. The shape is unique; at 14.5′, it’s a little shorter than the typical touring kayak, but that coupled with the hybrid hull shape makes it a nice stable-yet-maneuverable boat. The adjustable seat is better quality than you often get with other kayaks, and you can store quite a bit of gear in the hatches. Although it’s perfectly capable of being used in the ocean, we love to haul ours out to the local laguna or lakes for a quick paddle.
Kayaks need to be stored properly to avoid damage to the shape of their hulls. I did a lot of research into building our own system for kayak storage, but was glad that I ultimately spent the money on this solution by Talick. The “Kayak Condo” is a rack system that mounts to wall studs and provides a clever system for resting your boats on webbing that conforms to the hull’s shape. Steve and I installed these in less than half an hour, making them well worth the expense.
Oh, you might notice something in front of the kayaks in the photo above. That’s Balancing Bear Ernest…he’s pretty cool, too.
Now we just need to get those boats off the rack and back onto some water!
In 1987, I was bartending in New York and saved tip money until I had enough to buy this leather motorcycle jacket at a store in Greenwich Village. This jacket and I had many crazy adventures together, but I haven’t worn the jacket regularly in ten years. Eventually I got the notion that I could turn it into a bag.
But not without help! Enter Maker Faire, and Swap-o-rama-rama, an event where you bring a bag of clothing to donate, then get a chance to rummage through the piles to choose and modify what you find. I donated the clothing, but checked first and got the ok to bring my jacket and a cool skull scarf to do this special mod.
Click on the thumbnails below to navigate through this set of photos showing how the transformation took place:
This was great fun. I’m really grateful to Scatha for seeing me through this project! It made me want to learn more about sewing so I could take something like this on myself! And I loved that I could re-use something I loved once…but would no longer wear…by turning it into something brand new!
I didn’t see Michael Pollan’s article from last Sunday’s New York Times, Why Bother?, until tonight when I read about it on Stephen Bodio’s blog.
Pollan asks the same kind of question I was trying to ask in my ramble, The Scarcity Mentality. If climate change is inevitable anyway….if changing our own happens feels like a drop in the bucket because others don’t…if we’re not even confident in what choices are the best…well then, why bother? And has he so eloquently puts it:
“A sense of personal virtue, you might suggest, somewhat sheepishly. But what good is that when virtue itself is quickly becoming a term of derision? And not just on the editorial pages of The Wall Street Journal or on the lips of the vice president, who famously dismissed energy conservation as a “sign of personal virtue.” No, even in the pages of The New York Times and The New Yorker, it seems the epithet “virtuous,” when applied to an act of personal environmental responsibility, may be used only ironically. Tell me: How did it come to pass that virtue — a quality that for most of history has generally been deemed, well, a virtue — became a mark of liberal softheadedness? How peculiar, that doing the right thing by the environment — buying the hybrid, eating like a locavore — should now set you up for the Ed Begley Jr. treatment.”
Pollan does more than give a succinct description of the problem. He offers some good advice:
“But the act I want to talk about is growing some — even just a little — of your own food. Rip out your lawn, if you have one, and if you don’t — if you live in a high-rise, or have a yard shrouded in shade — look into getting a plot in a community garden. Measured against the Problem We Face, planting a garden sounds pretty benign, I know, but in fact it’s one of the most powerful things an individual can do — to reduce your carbon footprint, sure, but more important, to reduce your sense of dependence and dividedness: to change the cheap-energy mind.”
This resonates so strongly with me! We’ve been doing more of this, by getting some of the garden in (more to come!) and raising chickens for eggs, even composting. I find it immensely satisfying, to have this connection to the cycle of life.
A couple of weeks ago, I sat in our kitchen and ate two eggs, from our hens, with toast from bread I made myself…a simple meal, yet honestly one of the best I’ve ever had. There was so much more to that food than I expected. I wanted to share that experience with others. But I don’t think I could sit someone down and just give them that experience…it’s not only about making the food; it’s not about the molecules of taste or the brain chemistry of attentiveness…it’s something wonderful and I had to go down a long road to reach it.
Whether it’s with gardening, raising chickens, or something else, honoring the interconnectedness, with each other and with the earth itself, is the solution out of the scarcity mentality.
I’ve been watching a lot of good documentaries recently…The End of Suburbia, The Corporation, Blue Vinyl. They aren’t exactly uplifting. Each makes the point that our culture has been pushing forward without considering the real consequences of the decisions we’ve made…or decisions we’ve allowed others to make for us.
If there’s a goal to these films, I think it’s to get people to change their ways. There aren’t enough resources to continue living the way the majority of Americans live. We’re fouling our own water, food, and air and it’s literally killing us. The point is clear.
But I notice that they’ve also had another affect on me. While my awareness has changed, and day-to-day decisions are different, I’m concerned about what I’ve noticed as my own selfishness, my own disregard for consequences.
We just took a lovely three-night road trip through California…something I’m not going to pretend to regret. But there is some irony in burning up a bunch of fossil fuel to go visit the National Parks. The Furnace Creek campground in Death Valley, in this state of mind, seems utterly ridiculous. It’s surreal to pass the RVs trundling along to the dump station, gaze over at a bright green golf course, and enjoy the air conditioning and limitless ice of the restaurant (not to mention flush toilets in the campground). My mind kept going back to the questions…where is the water coming from? Where is the waste going to? That I’m not driving an RV or playing golf isn’t the point. Clearly, what’s happening there is not sustainable in any sense of the word.
My reaction? That I’d better get to Death Valley and enjoy it as much as possible before it all ends. I love visiting Death Valley. I don’t regret going in the least. I feel sorrow when I realize that our way of life might be changing in ways that will make it all but impossible to go in the future. Better go now. Use the gasoline, enjoy the ice. Now. Before it’s gone.
It’s this scarcity mentality within myself that bothers me the most. It’s the The Tragedy of the Commons. I think of travel I’d like to do, and worry that I’d better do it now before oil prices make it prohibitive. For the last few weeks I’ve considered buying a 25 pound bag of organic brown rice at the Laguna Farm store…it’s exceptionally delicious rice, but I decided we don’t eat enough of it to warrant the big bag. This week, after reading about rising food costs, I kick myself because the rice at the farm is all gone. The scarcity…the notion that I won’t be able to get it later…makes me want it all the more. And that’s ridiculous.
An aside: I first wrote this before being aware of the recent media circus around food costs in general and rice in particular…Sterling’s got a good take on it.
I thought about sending some of these documentaries to others, to those who don’t live in the culture of the Bay Area, in a town where the city council is made up of Green Party members, and where thinking about these issues is a way of life. But what effect would these have on them? Will they look for ways to stockpile their own rice, gasoline, water? (Yes. before I can even post this, that question gets answered, even for the Bay Area.) And it begs the question…if the resources are running out, regardless, does it make any sense to try to conserve them? Or shall we use them all up and move along to dealing with the inevitable consequences? After all, if I don’t use the oil now, someone else will anyway. Do I, a single person, make any difference?
With apocalypse, there is also excitement. I notice that in myself; I hear it in the tone of those interviewed in the documentaries. Bring it on! Maybe we look forward to the time when, with no resources, we’re freed from the guilt of our own consumption. Or maybe we think we’re smarter, and that smarter will mean a nicer survival, because our brains and our consciousness will bring the world around to our own nirvana of home gardens and chickens and bicycles. But the truth is, I don’t trust my culture to make the right decisions any more. If there’s an overriding theme to these documentaries, it’s that the rich will use their power simply to go grow richer, and as they do, their power grows. Like Steve said after watching The Corporation, “Makes you wanna go hide under a rock.” And he’s right, it does. It feels like there’s precious little chance that an enlightened movement will arise, one of of living closer to nature, of being connected to the food that connects us to the web of life and to each other. And I’m as susceptible to the scarcity mentality as anyone. What is my role in it?
An Epson Stylus CX 6000 “multifunction” printer sits on my desk as it has for months, its functionality reduced to scanning only. It worked well on its initial set of cartridges; when they started running out, I replaced them with cartridges from the same third-party manufacturer I’d used with my last Epson. They failed; I tried cartridge after cartridge to no avail. Frustrated, I finally contacted the cartridge manufacturer and asked for my money back. They took back the cartridges without a problem, and I ordered from another vendor that Steve uses…the printer still wouldn’t print with those.
The printer itself was shot, already?! I tore into it, thinking I could fix it, voiding the warranty that had probably already been voided by using the third-party cartridges. But it only got worse. After only a couple of months of use, my new printer was just an oversized scanner. A new record.
Now I need a printer, and I’m dreading the experience. I’m considering a multi-function black-and-white laser printer…the Samsung SCX-4200 gets good reviews, and for less than $150, it seems like a good value. I can live without fax capabilities, since I can fax from my Mac and receive faxes via a free eFax account.
Of course, now I think I NEED a color printer. And I dread the horrorshow of more ink cartridges, more messed up printers returned to be recycled. Recycling is nice and all, but what about just making stuff that lasts? Everybody knows that using your own refillable water bottle is a zillion times more eco-friendly than recycling a bunch of disposables, but the printer manufacturers think we’re content to keep going through printers and cartridges like they’re…well, water. They think we’re stupid.
I was glad to see Kevin Kelly’s post on the HP OfficeJet Pro K5400 Printer, a printer he recommends for its economy. It’s increasingly difficult to slog through printer reviews, and long-term cost comparisons (not to mention info about environmental impacts) is even more difficult to find. In typical Cool Tools fashion, this is a great help.
Sadly, the OfficeJet K5400 does one thing…print. It’s true that for less than three hundred dollars, I could get the OfficeJet for color printing and the Samsung laserjet for everything else. Maybe I should look at spending more on a network-ready color laser all-in-one for Steve and I to share? The amount of research one has to do to find the right choice of price vs. economy is daunting. And the more time I have to spend on it, the angrier I get.
Why is it even legal to make crappy devices that cost a bundle to refill, that break at the earliest opportunity, are completely unrepairable, and create more harmful waste? I believe in the Maker’s Manifesto and “If you can’t open it, you don’t own it”, and I want a consumer’s version. If I can’t repair it, or have it repaired, I don’t want to buy it. If I can’t resupply the consumables from whatever source I want, forget it. If you can’t make something that lasts, if you have to hide behind a “recycling” policy that’s nothing but more greenwashing, I don’t want to buy the damned crap you’re selling. Someone told me that refrigerators are now made to last only a few years…it’s appalling.
A printer is a tool, and I want tools that last. With my creative juices running, I want to get a sewing machine and a stand mixer. I’ll get vintage appliances that even I could open and maintain, or at least have repaired by a specialist who can do more than tell me the entire thing needs to be “recycled”. I miss my sturdy, dependable HP IIIP, but sadly, vintage printers just aren’t good option…I can only imagine the nightmare of connectors, drivers, and additional scanning and copying equipment that would entail. A good vintage tool should trend towards simplicity, not complexity. The value of a vintage tool is in the ability to just use it without doing too much research on it. Vintage computer printers would involve maddening complexity, and that’s not for me. I want simple. Dependable. Something to foster creativity.
Hmmm…Justin’s description was so intriguing…maybe I should check out that Letterpress class. Here’s one of his photos from his experience…aren’t these beautiful?
I’m a sucker for the romance of old tools!
Oh, I’ll buy a printer eventually, but I wish there was a choice that didn’t make me feel dirty.
When I read Neil Gershenfeld’s book FAB: The Coming Revolution on Your Desktop a couple of years ago, I was excited about the future promise of fabrication. It would be a Maker revolution, with people building amazing things in their own homes. We’d have any number of exciting gadgets and objects, each designed by us, for our personal needs and whims. If we needed something around the house, we could sit down at our computer, design it, and have it pop out of a machine. It would be a fantastic tool for creative people.
I’m much less excited by this fantasy now than I was a couple of years ago. But what’s more interesting is how personal fabrication is sneaking into our lives already. We may not have our own in-home fabber (although some do), but it’s becoming increasingly mainstream to be able to get custom objects created for very little expense.
One of my guilty pleasures is Project Runway, and occaisionally one of the challenges the contestants face is to design something for the “everyday woman”…that’s code for “women who are above a size 2, maybe way above”. I’m an everyday woman, and my fabber is the web. Instead of making gadgets, I’ve been making clothing and eyeglasses. And I don’t have to work with some brilliant snotty designer who takes pleasure in making someone like me cry to do it.
One of the early providers of custom fashion is the Timbuk2 Build-your-own bag system. It lets you choose from their spiffy colors and features to create a laptop bag or backpack all your own. I’ve happily built a number of bags here, ulitimately abandoning them because I don’t really need a new bag; it’s just fun to play with. Below, for $100 and $125:
Similarly, Converse lets you design and purchase your custom Chuck Taylors.
I like to think of these as “recliners”. Invisible motorcycle. Rawr!
Finished with the fantasy, I can abandon my shopping cart and save $130 for something more pedestrian.
As you can see, a lot of this is just playing with fashion. The quality of the products is good enough, and the pricing seems fair for something so customized, if that’s important to you. But what about something really useful.
Jeans. A good pair of jeans a wonderful thing; they can last for years. But finding ones that fit well (especially for the “everyday woman”) can be a torturous project. So I was immediately interested when I read about MakeYourOwnJeans.com in Susie Bright’s column in CRAFT 05. Soon I was having serious interactions with a tape measure…
…ordering custom-made jeans online for $63 ($48 + $15 delivery from India).
I tried them on as soon as they arrived, and realized that I screwed up; I measured the length using a pair of existing jeans with a waist that fits lower than the ones I ordered, so the jeans I got were about two inches shorter than I really wanted. BUT, otherwise the fit is fantastic. They feel better than any other jeans I’ve worn. The crotch and the waistband are exactly where they’re supposed to be. I wish I’d done a better job of measuring…next time I’ll ask for help. And there will be a next time. I plan to order two pair on my next order to optimize the shipping costs.
These jeans also played to my emotions in two ways. By ordering them and noting the shipping details, I realized I was ordering for India and had some qualms. Are the workers treated fairly in this company? How about their environmental practices? I rationalized this by noting that the jeans I buy pre-made in stores come from all sorts of places with questionable practices. At least more of the money I was spending is going directly to the manufacturer, which seems like a good thing.
The surprising thing about MakeYourOwnJeans happened after I put them the first day to wear them, and noticed that something was missing. I’d never been aware of it before, but every time I put on jeans is an opportunity for the inner critic to solemnly note the size on the tag and pronounce judgment on myself. These jeans have no size tag; they have no size. They’re made for me, an everyday woman, and with them I’m not subject to the tyranny and vagaries of women’s clothing sizes. Finally, we can get clothing sized by factual information, not by the labeling of an industry with a vested interest in playing to a woman’s inner critic.
My most recent personal fabrication purchase is eyeglasses. Terribly nearsighted from childhood, I’ve always dreaded the trip to the optometrist shop. It’s clear that the markup on eyeglasses has been out of control; to be happy with your purchase, you have to buy into a fantasy that there’s an optician carefully hand-crafting your lenses and frames and carefully fitting them to your face. Well, you don’t have to pay for that a fantasy any longer (some of you may wish to purchase shoes instead).
Ordering glasses online has been around for a while, but I’d never heard of it until Matt Haughey’s 43Folders post, Adventures in $40 eyeglasses:
I used to wear the same glasses for 3-4 years between changes so I’m finding it incredibly liberating to pick from five different sets of glasses each morning. I have a couple fashionable pairs for going out, a couple understated ones for working and I can even take a chance with a wacky retro frame if I’m in the mood. All told, my glasses cost me from a low of $26 to a high of $84 per pair, mostly depending on the options I picked for lenses.
Matt points to the Glassy Eyes weblog, which has links to everything you need to know about ordering glasses online. Since I’d just gotten my eyes checked and had a prescription in had, I quickly called my ophthalmologist, got my pupil distance and asked them to spend my vision insurance allowance (thank you, O’Reilly!) on my contact lenses this year. I decided to order from Zenni Optical in nearby San Rafael.
I got the works…bendable titanium frames, highest high-index lens material, anti-reflective coating…for a total of $71. They arrived yesterday, and I’m wearing them as I write this. They’re great, and the price is a far cry from the $350 (and up) I would have paid at a local optometrist. Had I opted for a basic stainless alloy frame (or plastic) and regular lens material, my total would have been a paltry $17! That means I’ll be getting spares sometime soon. Maybe a little something in a leopard print or rhinestones. Rawr.
Got a favorite personal fabrication service? Share them in the comments!
….highly recommended! And I’ve got some more reading to do myself…Pollan’s article has me interested in Wendell Berry…and I think I’ll start with Berry’s article in this month’s Harper’s, 
I’ve been watching a lot of good documentaries recently…
gets good reviews, and for less than $150, it seems like a good value. I can live without fax capabilities, since I can 
. Now I’ve got the bug to do some interesting Bantock-style experiments:
a couple of years ago, I was excited about the future promise of fabrication. It would be a 
