Grid Magazine March 2024 [#178]

A community market passionate about sustainable agriculture and supporting the next generation of farmers.

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publisher

Alex Mulcahy

managing editor

Bernard Brown

associate editor & distribution

Timothy Mulcahy

tim@gridphilly.com

deputy editor

Katherine Rapin

art director

Michael Wohlberg

writers

Kiersten Adams

Marilyn Anthony

Bernard Brown

Constance Garcia-Barrio

Dawn Kane

Emily Kovach

Alex Mulcahy

Jenny Roberts

Bryan Satalino

Dan Shurley

Jordan Teicher

photographers

Chris Baker Evens

Matthew Bender

Steve Boyle

Troy Bynum

Solmaira Valerio

illustrator

Bryan Satalino

published by

Red Flag Media

1032 Arch Street, 3rd Floor Philadelphia, PA 19107 215.625.9850

GRIDPHILLY.COM

Comfort Creep

Ijust bought a sweater. After reading “Worn: A People’s History of Clothing,” by Sofi Thanhauser (interviewed in this issue), I went online and found a second-hand gray wool henley originally sold by a company with a reputation for well-made clothing. I wanted something I could wear this winter and for many winters to come; the antithesis of fast fashion. And if I’m completely honest, I’ll admit that watching yet another season of “All Creatures Great and Small,” which takes place more than 80 years ago in Northern England, had something to do with it. Every episode is like a fashion show of oldtimey wool apparel: tweed suits, herringbone caps, cardigans, cable-knits — all of it looking incredibly cozy, if a little scratchy.

Yesterday I wore my new (to me) sweater for the first time. On the morning’s walk for childcare dropoff, the thermometer hovering around freezing, I needed no jacket at all — just a hat and gloves. Back inside, though, I immediately found myself sweating, and so (working from home) I dropped the thermostat into the 50s for the day. Dressing in such insulation requires adjustments.

Heavy wool fabrics were developed for an era when indoor heating was inefficient and expensive. The heat from the hearths, wood stoves or even coal fireplaces of long ago wouldn’t have let anyone lounge around in light cotton layers as we do today. A quick look at now-quaint clothing gives us some indication. Think of the sleeping cap, worn because your head — the only part of the body not covered by a pile of blankets — still needed insulation in the chilly air of your bedroom.

More recent indicators reveal the inexorable rise of the thermostat. One study from the UK compared household surveys from 1978 and 1996 and found bedroom temperatures rose from about 59 degrees to 65. I reckon that the upward trend has continued, thanks in large part to improving insulation and heating technology. In the United States, energy use for heating

a square meter of floor space has fallen by about 40% from the 1980s to today.

Given the efficiency gains, you might think that total energy use for heating would have fallen, but the opposite is true. Instead of pocketing the savings and celebrating a win for the planet, we have instead turned up the thermostat and built larger houses, buildings that would have been exorbitant to heat with older heating methods. As David Owen put it in “ The Efficiency Dilemma” in The New Yorker (in one of my favorite environmental essays ever): “The problem with efficiency gains is that we inevitably reinvest them in additional consumption.”

This phenomenon is sometimes called rebound, and we see it as well in the summer. Air conditioners have gone from an expensive appliance used sparingly to a ubiquitous necessity (even for people without medical conditions that make them vulnerable to hyperthermia). As Owen writes, rebound is about shifting standards as well as efficiency gains. “[A]ccess to cooled air is self-reinforcing: to someone who works in an air-conditioned office, an un-air-conditioned house quickly becomes intolerable, and vice versa.”

Comfort standards ratchet up slowly, decade by decade, and I’m not sure how we undo it. It’s not just a matter of persuasion by crunchy environmental writers.

Vast industries benefit from rebound: fossil fuel corporations and developers that market spacious houses come to mind. It’s hard to imagine Toll Brothers building and selling houses with less square footage and lower ceilings. It’s wonderful that something as cheap as a cozy second-hand sweater could pay for itself in a few weeks of lower heating bills — but it’s only the consumers and the planet that benefit.

EDITOR’S

Avian Cartography

The Pennsylvania Bird Atlas engages birders to canvas the commonwealth by bernard brown

Akeen observer can sometimes hear a “boom” over the row houses on summer evenings in Philadelphia. The sound marks a male common nighthawk defending his territory, flexing his wings as he dives. The insect-eating birds nest on flat, gravelly surfaces. These can be bare patches of ground in a forest, but they can also be city roofs.

Unfortunately, it turns out the common nighthawk is becoming less and less common. Since the 1960s their numbers have been dropping a little bit every year, adding up to a population decline of about half. It could be that modern insecticides have left the birds with fewer bugs to catch, or it could be that nesting spots are disappearing. It will take more data to understand what’s happening to nighthawks, and much of that will come from birders.

Birders, unlike the nighthawk, are growing more common. About 45 million people watch birds for fun, according to U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service survey data. Birders produce a lot of observations that are useful to scientists and conservation agencies, but they aren’t perfect. We head outdoors with our binoculars to visit places where we can reliably find interesting birds rather than spend scarce free time on spots that no one else has vouched for; it is in the individual birder’s interest to go where other birders have already proven the trip is worthwhile. The collective effect, though, is a patchy map of observations with lots of places left un-birded.

For scientists looking for a comprehensive picture of how birds are doing across Pennsylvania, this can present a problem. The Third Pennsylvania Bird Atlas (PBA3), which kicked off at the beginning of the year, aims to solve it.

“An atlas is a collection of maps,” says Amber Wiewel, the biologist coordinating PBA3. “When talking about a bird atlas, it is a collection of maps of where birds are distributed in a period of time.”

The atlas, run by Hawk Mountain Sanctuary (in the mountains about 85 miles

northwest of Philly) in collaboration with the Pennsylvania Game Commission, is a five-year effort to comprehensively document the commonwealth’s birds.

Pennsylvania is the fifth-most birded state in the country, based on the numbers of checklists submitted through eBird, the online portal that has become the default community science medium for logging bird observations. But those observations are clustered where the most people live, and beyond that, by the habits of birders. “We’re really biased in how we bird and when and where we bird,” Wiewel says.

The atlas aims to spread birders across the landscape by dividing Pennsylvania into 4,938 blocks, each about nine miles square. County-based atlas organizers can make sure no corner of the state goes un-birded by ensuring that every block gets at least a minimum level effort. If observations are clustered too much — like in a block with a popular park — they can ask volunteers to try spots in other blocks.

Previous bird atlases, conducted in the 1980s and early 2000s, made heavy use of paper forms that birders filled out based on their observations. Today, eBird makes it a lot easier for birders to record data and for organizers to process and analyze it.

The organizers have broken the project into three layers. The breeding bird atlas will take observations for just over five years, from 2024 to the end of February 2029. A winter atlas will run from December through February each year, covering the under-birded season. Last, professional observers and experienced volunteers will do point counts, in which they stay put at assigned locations for a standard period of time and document every bird they see and hear.

The second bird atlas, conducted by the Carnegie Museum of Natural History with the Game Commission in the early 2000s, found that some species like bald eagles and peregrine falcons had expanded their ranges in Pennsylvania, while others such as the common nighthawk had declined.

Getting an accurate collection of maps is critical, as bird populations across the continent have taken a beating. An alliance of bird conservation organizations announced in 2019 that the breeding population of birds (populations fluctuate seasonally as babies

Manny Dominguez is a volunteer coordinator for the Third Pennsylvania Bird Atlas.

are born and raised and as they migrate, so breeding birds serve as a stable population indicator) in North America had fallen by 3 billion. Habitat destruction, invasive species such as house cats, and collisions with windows have taken their toll. Climate change is already starting to complicate everything: warmer temperatures and changes in precipitation mean some habitats, such as cool mountain forests, are shrinking and may disappear entirely. As the timing of spring and fall change, migrating birds may show up too early or too late to take advantage of seasonal food sources they rely on.

Volunteer birders will play a major role in

documenting the commonwealth’s bird life. Manny Dominguez and Tanya Burnett, avid birders with day jobs, are coordinating volunteer atlas efforts in Philadelphia. Dominguez started birding during the pandemic. Soon he was going on every guided birding walk he could find. “It kind of snowballed.

I have to bird every day.”

Dominguez says not everyone has to be as committed a birder as he is to take part

in the atlas. “This project is for everybody, all levels. It’s not just really expert birders. If you just started birding you can contribute, and all your data can be used for good purposes, like tracking the trends of certain birds that breed in Philly.” Birds like the common nighthawk. ◆

Learn more about how to take part in the Pennsylvania Bird Atlas at ebird.org /atlaspa

This project is for everybody, all levels. It’s not just really expert birders. If you just started birding you can contribute.”

manny dominguez, Philadelphia birder

The Weavers Way Vendor Diversity Initiative provides assistance, support and shelf space for makers and artisans who are people of color.

In The Mix

Bold Indian spice packets make homemade cooking easier, healthier and more delicious

Over the course of a decade, Shireen Qadri learned the intricacies of Indian cooking from her mom, Safia. But when she started a family, she found that preparing the cuisine was too elaborate for everyday meals. Her mom had a solution: when Qadri and her husband, J.D. Walsh, visited Safia in Maryland, she would send the couple home with blended spice packets that made preparing traditional dishes much easier.

“We kind of had that ‘Aha!’ moment,” says Walsh, “where we were finding time to make the food we loved, even with a young family and not a lot of time.”And thus, in 2018, the concept behind moji masala (moji means “mom” and masala means “blend of spices” in Kashmiri), was born. The line of organic, hand ground spice blends equips home cooks to whip up dishes like tandoori chicken, kitchari, aloo rasedar, and more.

Getting the flavor profiles right was an arduous process that required a full year of testing — partially because the batch sizes needed to be pared down. Safia typically cooks large quantities, but Qadri wanted to make packets of spices for three to five serv-

ings. And like so many legendary home chefs, Safia just eyeballs the measurements. “She doesn’t own a measuring spoon,” says Qadri.

The couple has taken Safia’s efforts to simplify cooking a step further, providing a shopping list for the meal on each spice packet and QR codes for instructional videos.

“The whole plan was to make this as foolproof and easy as possible,” says Walsh.

The spices are hand ground at the Culinary Collective, a kitchen shared by food trucks and ghost kitchens in Bridesberg.

One of moji masala’s selling points is that their spices are organic, which is not the case for the majority of Indian spices

available at supermarkets. And their blends don’t contain excessive salt unlike many of the bagged and jarred “simmer sauces” they see as their competition.

Qadri and Walsh use wholesome ingredients to build an intensity of flavor that measures up to traditional, home-cooked meals.. Qadri will use a strong flavor like black cardamom more boldly than even an Indian restaurant, she says, which might present the familiar flavors of Indian cuisine like cumin, turmeric, garlic and ginger — and then make them extra spicy to mask the lack of nuance in the dishes.

“That isn’t what a homemade dish experience is like,” says Qadri. “A homemade Indian dish is all about the layers of flavor.”

A homemade Indian dish is all about the layers of flavor.”

shireen qadri

The co-founders are the sole employees, handling all aspects of the business. Walsh says, “If you go on our website, there’s a chat box. It’s Shireen or I who are going to answer.”

The two have a globetrotting past. Qadri worked in finance, and Walsh, a standout basketball player for the University of Maryland, launched J.D. Walsh Basketball School, which has led to basketball camps in India,

Don’t have an Indian mother to mix your seasonings for you?

Spice packets by moji masala are the next best thing.

by Dan Shurley

China and Israel that aim to promote world peace and diplomacy through sports. The two moved from New York City to Chestnut Hill during the pandemic, largely to provide a change of scenery for their young daughter. It has proven to be a perfect place to launch moji masala, as they have witnessed firsthand how committed the community is to supporting local businesses. And nowhere is that more evident than Weavers Way Coop, where they shop every day.

“There’s not even a little bodega in New York City that will support you the way Weavers Way does. They genuinely care about our local brand being part of their community. I feel like they’re a partner,” says Qadri.

A key part of the marketing of moji masala is offering samples at places like Weavers Way because once people try it, the couple says they are hooked. It’s also an opportunity to learn their potential customers’ preferences. Qadri and Walsh meet with people who have dietary restrictions due to illness or self-imposed diets to promote health. They talk about how hard it can be to take care of a family and still have time to take care of themselves.

“Food is a problem for people,” says Qadri. “As we get a little older and a little busier and we value the importance of eating well, it just makes everything so much harder. So we’re trying to solve a problem with homemade Indian food.”◆

Death Threats

A lone crow caws in the bare tree behind the yoga studio, the sky milky blue. With no rain in the forecast, Vivek is relaxed. The biologist-turnedstreet-vendor offers me his chair and continues putting books out on the tables. I tell him about the little purple flowers I saw on the walk over. “I don’t think they’re supposed to be blooming this early in the year,” I say. Vivek’s eyes flash wickedly. “They’re death threats,” he grins. A beat. “Little death threats from nature.”

Liberals and Reactionaries Reach an Agreement

—So, we’ve reached an agreement.

—No, we’ve reached an impasse.

—It’s an agreement.

—It’s an impasse.

—Agreement.

—Impasse. —Agreed.

Because We Lacked Warmth

Chimneys, because we lacked warmth, satellite dishes because we were lonely. Chimneys, because we were lonely, satellite dishes because we lacked warmth.

Reactionaries and Liberals Reach an Agreement

—It is the natural order of things.

—It is not the natural order of things.

—It is the natural order of things.

—It is not the natural order of things.

—It’s the unnatural order of things.

—Exactly.

Grief Support

Government program offers counseling, guidance and community for grieving Philadelphians by constance

garcia-barrio

Within minutes of stepping onto McGee Island off the coast of Maine for a writing residency, I learned through a phone call that my son, Manuel, my only child, had died. Dogged by alcohol, cough syrup, schizophrenia and half-cured pneumonia — he left the hospital against medical advice — he succumbed in his room at a small boarding house near my home.

I had accompanied him as best I could through the 22 years of his illness until his death on September 23, 2022, at age 47. The Medical Examiner’s Office found the substances mentioned in his body as well as the anti-psychotic medication he’d gone to Mental Health Partnerships-Parkside to

have injected the day before he died. He had tried up to the end to right his life.

As a practitioner of the Yoruba tradition, a West African-based religion, I asked the other women in residency at The Salty Quill to join me in a ritual to petition Yemayá, the angel of maternity embodied in the sea, for help to go on living without my son. The ceremony comforted me as I began mourning. But from week to week over the past 16 months, I’ve relied on Philly HEALs (Healing & Empowerment After Loss) to walk through grief.

Founded in 2019, the program — run by the Philadelphia Department of Public Health’s Substance Use Prevention and Harm Reduction (SUPHR) program — partners with the Medical Examiner’s Office to

provide free grief support to city residents who’ve lost a loved one to an unintentional drug overdose. In 2020, 1,214 Philadelphians died from an unintended overdose; in 2022, the year Manuel died, 1,413 city residents succumbed from that cause, according to the Department of Public Health. That jump mirrors a nationwide trend: the National Safety Council reports that in 2021, 98,268 people died from preventable overdoses – an increase of 781% since 1999.

Philly HEALs, which serves clients from age 5 and up, had helped more than 4,000 Philadelphians as of March 2023. Six clinicians and an intern staff the agency, says Kaitlin Worden, M.S.W., the bereavement care program manager.

Philly HEALs is a unique refuge. Other local groups, like the nonprofit Compassionate Friends, provide peer support after a child of any age dies, but death related to drug involvement often carries shame and stigma, according to Worden. “Family and

Terri Spina, who lost her daughter to an overdose in 2021, has benefited greatly from both individual counseling and peer group support through Philly HEALs.

friends may view the deceased as unworthy of grief,” she says.

Cadence Giles, senior bereavement counselor with Philly HEALs, sees bereavement care as preventive. “We help clients avoid less beneficial coping mechanisms, such as self-medicating,” she says.

Circumstances may deepen the need for help. Terri Spina learned that when her daughter Gina, 31, overdosed in April 2021, she was with a companion. That person left Gina’s first-floor apartment through a window and told no one about Gina’s death, according to Spina. “I kept texting her and calling her,” says Spina, who has PTSD from the event. “I thought her phone had gotten turned off. The police and fire department had to break down her door. I still remember the smell.”

Families may face other pressures. “Along with the shock, you can have financial stress from trying to bury your child,” says Lorraine Porter, whose son Dante, 33, died in August 2021.

The Medical Examiner’s Office called me a few weeks after Manuel’s death to tell me about grief counseling (most people learn about the service that way, though they occasionally find it by word of mouth or web search) and the prospect of help heartened me to lean into the pain. That’s a crucial step,

I don’t think I’d be here if I didn’t have the [peer support] group.”

— terri spina, Philly HEALs participant

according to Naila Francis, a death midwife in Roxborough who assists people in dying with dignity. She also helps grieving families. “Grief can get stuck in the body and manifest as illness,” she says. An example is “broken heart syndrome” in which the heart muscle becomes suddenly stunned or weakened after extreme emotional or physical stress.

Philly HEALs offers several services, all of them free, including up to 10 one-on-one counseling sessions. Julie M., whose two younger brothers, ages 51 and 52, overdosed within three weeks of each other in 2021, relied on the counseling. “I’d lost my mother 18 months earlier,” she says. “I knew I needed help [when my brothers died].”

I decided on weekly meetings with Giles for a month and then spread the remaining sessions over a longer period of time. With Manuel’s father dead, it fell to me to make the decisions about his treatment. In some sessions I grappled with “what-ifs,” wondering whether different choices could have prolonged his life. I also railed against Philadelphia’s crippled mental health care system.

In addition to individual counseling, Philly HEALs offers peer group meetings on Zoom for 90 minutes every two weeks. Participants may continue with them as long as needed. There are specialized groups, such as LGBTQ, the Hot Widows Club, a writing group and a grandparents group. For Spina, the individual sessions, which can be taken at the intervals one chooses, paved the way to join the peer group, also a key support for her. “I don’t think I’d be here if I didn’t have the [peer support] group,” she says.

Besides a forum where one can speak frankly, the group was a place where I learned from those who’d been grieving longer. For example, others alerted me that Manuel’s birthday and the anniversary of his death could deepen my sadness. Thanks to their warning about Christmas, instead of sitting at home I joined a street protest against the proposed Chinatown arena.

In a workshop about feeling relieved af-

ter a loved one dies, I mentioned no longer worrying about calls from the police or hospitals, or Manuel’s diminishing short-term memory, or what would happen to him if I died first. “We choose topics from issues that surface repeatedly,” Giles says.

Bereavement counselors also give virtual workshops on topics like anger, guilt, dreams and the mind-and-body connection. “I find the breathing exercises helpful for coping with stress,” Porter says.

HEALs’ e-newsletter updates clients on books, podcasts and programs, like the services now available in Spanish, and events where group members can meet face-toface. “There’s magic in being together,” Giles says. There’s also an education. A 2022 gathering included a visit to “Elegy: Lament in the 20th Century,” an exhibition at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. A group outing to West Philly’s Royal Gardens in November 2023 offered camaraderie, a green setting, journaling and grounding through earth-centered activities like weeding.

At the organization’s December 2022 holiday celebration, I saw people of different ages and ethnicities, bearing out the Public Health Department’s statement that overdose deaths occur in nearly every zip code of the city. I also found that other people had lost loved ones with a dual diagnosis, or mental illness and addiction. We lamented that rehab mills in Philly provide little help.

Since Manuel’s death, I return, at times, to the primal scent and murmur of the sea, and I sometimes wrap myself in the blanket that the women of The Salty Quill sent me. But for a sounding board, there’s Philly HEALs. I’ve also discovered the paradox of grief that death midwife Francis points out: “Making space for grief gives you more capacity to savor life, including moments of joy and beauty.” ◆

For details, visit substanceusephilly com/ phillyheals or contact Kaitlin Worden at  (267)239 1958 or kaitlin worden@phila gov

the MINDFUL FASHION issue

Is that what you’re wearing?

Do you know what it’s made of? Where it came from? Who stitched it together? ¶ Go ahead and cheat. Check the label. That will get you part of the way there: a list of materials and a country, but much of the story will remain a mystery. That little tag won’t tell you about the chemicals sprayed on the cotton fields or the air pollution at the chemical plant that produced the polyester, rayon, spandex or other synthetic fibers woven into the cloth. It won’t tell you whose hands pushed the fabric through sewing machines, whether they worked decent hours for decent pay or whether they were exploited at a sweatshop. ¶ In “Worn: A People’s History of Clothing,” Sofi Thanhauser describes how producing what we wear went from a necessarily organic, home-based, labor-intensive craft that produced incredibly precious items to a globe-spanning industry focused on cranking out mountains of cheap clothes that are out of style almost as soon as we wear them. ¶ Let’s consider alternatives: growing industries that help us reuse the clothes we discard, artists inventing new lives for old pieces, opportunities to craft our own fabric and entrepreneurs trying their hand at circular clothing manufacturing systems. You’ve heard plenty of people telling you how to eat mindfully. We hope you find the ideas and inspiration here to dress mindfully as well.

Yarns

The Dark Side of Fashion

Grid publisher Alex Mulcahy talks with author Sofi Thanhauser about the history of clothing, and about how

some of the industry’s thorniest problems haven’t changed

It would be nice to imagine that all the clothes in our closets and dressers — let alone the endless items lining the shelves of countless retail shops — spring forth fully formed. Or, if that fantasy goes too far, to at least believe that our clothing is manufactured with some level of respect for workers and the Earth.

Sofi Thanhauser’s historical look at the production of clothing from before the Industrial Revolution to the current day will disabuse you of any such ideas. Human exploitation (most often women and girls) and environmental degradation remain central to the production of clothing today.

Grid publisher Alex Mulcahy caught up with Thanhauser to discuss her sweeping 2022 book, “Worn: A People's History of Clothing.”

Your book has been called the “Omnivore's Dilemma” of clothing. What are the similarities between fast food and fast fashion? I think that I must have already had a sense of how the problem of textiles could be considered an agricultural problem before I encountered Michael Pollan or even Wendell Berry, who actually to me, is the grandfather of us all, and someone upon whom Michael Pollan relied.

But clothing and food are both big fundamental needs that humans have that are increasingly being met by really wide, farflung global supply chains that used to be met on a fairly local scale. And they both have really big problems with labor, and they also both have really big problems with the way they're treating the land.

Speaking of labor, the industrial worker has not fared well, and it seems largely because capitalism is so slippery about avoiding unions. I think that's right, but at the same time, one of the stories that I wanted to tell in “Worn” was how it wasn't really capitalism as some kind of pure entity that's separate from the nation state. For example, in the ‘50s there was this influx of Japanese goods and it seemed like they came out of nowhere. They're cheaper, so we buy them. It's purely a market story. But really there's quite a political story to be told there.

The U.S. State Department in occupied post-war Japan made a decision to not only rebuild Japanese textile capacity, but to open the U.S. market to the products of that industry and allow the U.S. Southern textile mills to suffer and ultimately to go under in the name of Cold War containment, because we were more interested in making sure that Japan and later other countries in the Far East had viable industries and didn't “fall to communism” than we were interested in saving our textile industry. So it's capitalism, but it's also state policy that went into the globalization of the garment industry in the post-war period.

And that policy really set the stage for exponential growth in production and consumption. What retailers and manufacturers and advertisers have found is that people have an unlimited craving for clothing. So when prices dropped really dramatically in the United States after the end of a quota regime, called the Multi Fiber Arrangement, everyone was actually surprised at what

happened. The price dropped in half and people without missing a beat started buying twice as much. So the appetite is unlimited. And I'm not saying that to blame or shame because clothing is fabulous and why wouldn't we want more of it?

It was illuminating to learn how the American Civil War had profound impacts globally, particularly on British and Russian imperialism. Until the Civil War, cotton textile manufacturers in the North of the United States, as well as in European countries and in Russia, were immediately reliant on American cotton. There was also a widespread fear — it turned out to be a legitimate fear — that relying on a slave-based agricultural system was not really going to be the most stable bet. Even though there had been some gestures to try to diversify supply before that moment, it hadn't really gone anywhere. But then suddenly it had to, because there was no way to get this really abundant supply of cotton out of the South. So the British turned to India, where they had already set up colonial rule and attempted to force farmers who were growing vegetables and doing subsistence farming into farming export cotton, which had really catastrophic results for those farmers. And in Russia, it attended the expansion across the Asian continent and places like Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, which became major supply areas for raw cotton for Russian industry. There were big colonial pushes and a lot of violence exerted to regain a supply of raw cotton for textile mills.

If we think about sociologically why women are expected to dress a certain way today, it really goes back to this idea that you’re not economically independent.”

SOFI THANHAUSER

Women are central to the story of clothing, both as consumers and as producers who suffered as manufacturing shifted from craft to industry. What is the legacy of that? If we think about sociologically why women are expected to dress a certain way today, it really goes back to this idea that you're not economically independent. I don't know if you're familiar with “Succession,” the HBO series, but there was some writing about Shiv's clothing and she dresses in a way that's pretty muted and not really out to

impress. And she is independently wealthy. Like she was born with so much money and power, she's never going to have to dress in a certain way to get it from anyone. And it was like drawing this equivalence between what a power play can look like for a woman when she doesn't need anyone to approve of her appearance.

Something that's bothered me really from early on and been like a hobby horse of mine, is the way that clothing and fashion are associated with women, and that they're both associated with a lack of seriousness and a lack of intellectual depth, as though somehow they're not real subjects. I would argue that clothing is at the root of this colonial project.

The history of rayon manufacturing — and how it poisoned and continues to poison workers — was one of the hardest stories to read about. There's a chemical involved called carbon disulfide, which is a powerful neurotoxin. If you are exposed to it at unsafe levels, you can lose a lot of important parts of your brain function, essentially, which is what happened to generation after generation of worker, not because it's necessary, but because the proper ventilation costs more money. So it isn’t that we couldn’t get this perhaps valuable industrial product unless we sacrifice the lives of workers. We just wanted to do it without investing in the proper ventilation.

Something that I find probably the most depressing when I look at history — but also has to do with why I care about telling history — is that sometimes the same thing is discovered over and over and over again and then forgotten, and often forgotten because of a large application of political violence. That is something that I see a lot in women's movements and feminism. There is a certain demand or advance and then this incredible wave of violence and then it's got to be rediscovered 20 years later or 100 years later by another group of people. So that story to me was and is a very sad one because of the ways that people choose to look away from really simple things that could be done to ensure human safety. And it just places you really close to the kind of bone-chilling decisions that are sometimes made in the depths of corporations to take it as given that some of your workers will go insane or die, and it's okay because it doesn't affect your profit that much.

Poppin’ Tags

Philly AIDS Thrift has all kinds of patrons: teachers, tourists, college students and on occasion, celebrities like singer Miley Cyrus and Eagles players.

STORY BY JENNY ROBERTS

Philly AIDS Thrift shoppers share what brings them in to the beloved, unique social enterprise —

As manager and longtime employee Adam Proctor puts it, the nonprofit thrift store attracts “every kind of person ever.”

Located at 710 South 5th Street, Philly AIDS Thrift has an eclectic, artsy feel and a mission-driven focus. The store is a safe space for LGBTQ+ folks and to date it has donated $4.6 million to local organizations, primarily AIDS Fund, which provides emergency assistance to those living with HIV and funds 21 agencies in the region.

Philly AIDS Thrift clearly isn’t your typical thrift store, and with 18 years in business, it’s a South Philly staple. Over the years, Proctor and co-founder and executive director Christina Kallas-Saritsoglou have gained industry insight into the evolution of thrifting and thrifters.

Kallas-Saritsoglou says thrifting has garnered popularity with the help of social media, attracting a new base of shoppers. “Thrifting became more cool, more popular, so then you would see more college students, or people you wouldn’t normally see at a thrift store,” she says.

Social media has also attracted dealers who buy merchandise to resell on their own online shops. There are shoppers looking specifically for vintage items or collectibles, too.

Saturdays bring tourists to the shop, but during the week, most patrons are locals looking for a bargain. Teachers buy books for their classrooms and parents buy children’s clothing from the $1 bins.

“They leave happy and they tell us about all the great stuff they got,” Proctor says.

Some folks come in and shop as a mental health practice, a way to decompress, Kallas-Saritsoglou says. There are also the regulars who stop by mostly to chat.

“We know them. We know their lives. It’s very communal,” Kallas-Saritsoglou says. “That’s what keeps people regular and keeps them coming back, because we genuinely care about them.”

Here are the stories of a few folks who stopped by Philly AIDS Thrift on a recent Saturday — and the reasons they thrift:

Philly AIDS Thrift has been a neighborhood staple in South Philadelphia since 2005.

TINA STARFIELD, 38

Children’s book scout

Tina Starfield, of South Philly, has been thrifting for as long as she can remember. She grew up in southern Maryland going to yard sales and thrift stores with her mother, who thrifted for affordability and sustainability reasons. When Starfield got to college, she thrifted clothing to alter her look.

“In college, it was probably more [about] trying to be cool,” she says.

Now the mother of a toddler named Novah, Starfield is back to thrifting as a cost-saving measure. She can save money buying children’s books at Philly AIDS Thrift rather than Barnes & Noble. And when Novah outgrows a selection of titles, Starfield can simply donate them back to the store again and stock up on new stories, she says.

“There’s perfectly good books here that cost $1 and my daughter’s going to read them and then give them to somebody else. I just find it so much more practical and cheap to [thrift them] instead.”

CHERYL WALL, 63

Expert gifter

Cheryl Wall, of Germantown, describes herself as an “expert, creative” thrifter. “Half my house came from a thrift store,” she says. Wall thrifts furniture for her home and decorations to make handcrafted wreaths to sell at Christmastime.

Since becoming a caregiver for family members, Wall mostly comes by Philly AIDS Thrift to relax. When she does make

Mawr College and visit the shops along South Street.

purchases, they’re usually for others. Knowing she has an expert’s eye, family and friends will ask her to be on the lookout for certain items on her shopping trips.

She’ll also pick up items that might help elderly neighbors like shower chairs, wheelchairs and walkers. The staff now puts these products aside for Wall and gives her a call when they’re donated.

“The people are really nice here,” Wall says. “They’re very helpful.”

CHASE DOYLE, 37 Seasoned pro

Chase Doyle, of Center City, first got into thrifting in Philly about 20 years ago. He would take the Regional Rail in from Bryn

Thrifting was a social activity and also a convenience when it came to finding clothes that fit properly and aligned with his gender expression. As a transgender man, Doyle says Philly AIDS Thrift created a space where he felt comfortable shopping for men’s clothing even before he transitioned.

“It was a lot easier to find vintage things that were in my size,” Doyle says. “Otherwise, I’d need to go to Banana Republic and pay like $50 for a pair of pants. It ended up being both cost-saving, but then also a way of finding more of a style that was less reliant on what’s immediately trendy.”

Today, he still enjoys combing through the racks at Philly AIDS Thrift and estimates half of his wardrobe is thrifted.

“My biggest tip is: don’t go in with a specific thing in mind,” Doyle says. “If you’re

STARFIELD

WALL

DOYLE

Thrifting brings me peace of mind, and I think it’s something about the disorder. Finding the special things in disarray is so soothing.”

AUBREY LOFTUS, Bella Vista

like, ‘I want to get a pair of black skinny jeans,’ they will have no black skinny jeans. I go in to see what the AIDS Thrift gods have given me today.”

ANTHONY NANNETTI, 72 Social shopper

Anthony Nannetti, of South Philly, has been frequenting Philly AIDS Thrift for more than 10 years.

“In my case, I don’t see it as thrifting,” he says. “I see it as just a fascinating experience. It’s going into a place that’s unlike any other certainly in the area, and finding everything from kitchen supplies, clothing, books, CDs,

albums — everything. You name it. Eventually, you will find it here.”

Nannetti, who is retired, stops into the store about five times a week to look for items that remind him of the past, noting Philly AIDS Thrift brings to mind old five and dime stores because of its variety of merchandise.

He also comes in to socialize. Nannetti spends much of his time looking for books and has made friends with others who frequent this section of the store. He’s also particularly close with staff and volunteers — they even helped clean out his mother’s home when she passed away.

“It’s a social experience as well as a shopping experience for me, absolutely,” he says.

AUBREY LOFTUS, 34 Thrifty fashionista

Aubrey Loftus, of Bella Vista, started thrifting as a teenager, trying to recreate outfits she saw in magazines.

“It was my way of finding fashion,” she says.

Today, she still thrifts to recreate outfits she sees on social media, aiming to be both fashionable and sustainable. She’s constantly watching videos on TikTok and Instagram of others sharing their thrifted looks and even posts finds of her own on the account @modernmisfits, including her wedding dress that she thrifted for $40, she says.

“I love how thrifting and the randomness of it dictates my style.”

As a mental health practice, Loftus will often stop by Philly AIDS Thrift on Friday nights, when the store is quiet.

“Thrifting brings me peace of mind, and I think it’s something about the disorder,” she says. “Finding the special things in disarray is so soothing.”

Another benefit to thrifting is the community connection it brings. Loftus has experienced people recognizing the clothing she’s thrifted as something they likely donated, she says.

“It connects you with your community in a cool way.” ◆

to donate Bring items to Philly AIDS Thrift between noon and 7 p.m., Tuesday through Saturday.

NANNETTI

LOFTUS

Economic Storytelling through Lived Experience

What 500 Philadelphians told Technical.ly stands in their way to economically thrive

Christa Barfield of FarmerJawn on growing an urban farming business

It takes a village to thrive — thank you to our partners

Between 2021 and 2023, news organization Technical.ly embarked on an ambitious project with a simple goal: To learn about the current obstacles and opportunities to economically thrive from listening to 500 Philadelphians. We did this with focus groups, community events, individual interviews and an audio documentary that featured 10 residents we followed for a year — plus reporting from a dozen other cities to compare it all. This print magazine is meant to be shared with the hundreds of residents who contributed to this project, and the thousands more who can benefit from hearing their stories.

One of the big recurring themes of Thriving was the importance of community support and networks in overcoming challenges and pursuing economic well-being. Hundreds of people we spoke with cited these connections as key, whether via individuals like friends, family and mentors, or established groups like nonprofits and government agencies.

Getting ahead is more feasible with others behind you — and that’s true for this project. Technical.ly couldn’t have done it without our partners.

FINANCIAL SUPPORT

Thank you first and foremost to our funders: the Pew Charitable Trusts, William Penn Foundation and the Knight Foundation. Unusual for a project like this, its origins come from stakeholders inside these foundations that sought to supplement their own research with lived experience from residents. We are honored to have brought their vision to fruition, and hope these stories will be used to inform smarter policy, more humane priorities and happier communities.

COMMUNITY PARTNERS

A big round of applause and gratitude for all the organizations and businesses that partnered with us on information gathering and synthesis. From co-hosting focus groups to participating in meetings and feedback sessions that helped steer our reporting, these groups and people helped make Thriving possible.

• Asian American Chamber of Commerce

• Asian Bank

• Fishtown Neighbors Association

• Humanature

• The Lactation Therapist

• Monkey & Elephant

• REC Philly

• Philadelphia Office of Immigrant Affairs

• Seer

• The Welcoming Center

• WURD Radio

Contributors

TECHNICAL.LY STAFF

Christopher Wink

Danya Henninger

Sarah Huffman

Aileen Connolly McNulty

McKenzie Morgan

Holly Quinn

Sameer Rao

TECHNICAL.LY ALUMNI

Michaela Althouse

Vincent Better

Christina Kristofic

Paige Gross

Sabrina Vourvoulias

Julie Zeglen

STRATEGY & PROJECT MANAGEMENT

Sophie Bryan

Jabina Coleman

Elinor Haider

Octavia Howell

Ellen Hwang

Jen Kinney

Alex Lewis

Hanae Mason

John Myers

Michael O’Bryan

Jessica Richard

Sandra Shea

EDITORIAL CONTRIBUTORS

Sorrina Beecher

Lisa Bryant

Ellen Chamberlain

Nichole Currie

Grace DeWitt

Emma Diehl

Amanda Hoover

Karuga Koinange

Shanti Lerner

Dominique Nichole

Lian Parsons-Thomason

Anne To

The journey to financial freedom, and what stands in the way

UNDERSTAND WHERE

WE’RE ALL GOING BY BETTER UNDERSTANDING HOW A FEW OF US ARE DOING.

● That’s the concept behind Thriving, the yearlong reporting project that news org Technical.ly led with support from the Pew Charitable Trusts, William Penn Foundation and the Knight Foundation.

Across hundreds of interviews, conversations and events, we explored the economic mobility of people in Philadelphia and other US cities, showcasing personal stories while surfacing systemic issues.

What did we learn? Plenty, and we found several recurring themes, across a wide range of demographics:

• Many people feel their stories are regularly oversimplified

• We all rely on community help

• Our economic self-image begins in childhood.

• Ineffective programs can be more frustrating than no programming at all

It all stemmed from this question: What are the obstacles and opportunities for you to thrive? Of course, everyone has their own

definition of thriving — and these interpretations are part of what made this project so informative.

The mother who paid off a credit card while pregnant so she could start a savings account for her newborn daughter. The state agriculture director who stretched his final Ph.D. year over several semesters because he’d already maxed out student loans. The Afghan refugee who traded a money-making food service job for a lower-paying post that let him spend weekends with family. The gig worker who walked away from a full-time office situation to prioritize making art.

We focused our reporting on 10 key demographic groups, based on exhaustive data analysis. After building a model of what a statistically representative 100 residents might look like in several US cities, including Philadelphia, we searched for themes and spoke to analysts, demographers and statisticians to pick up indicative trends. In the end we selected those that we felt will most inform our collective economic future.

Here are the persona groups we followed most closely and why. ➜

1. Recent Immigrants

A significant component of our future workforce

Despite declines in recent years, the US remains the world’s most desired destination for hopeful immigrants. In 2021, nearly 900 million people wanted to migrate here, and nearly 1 in 5 named the US as their top pick — more than double second-place Canada, according to Gallup.

Immigrants comprised 19% of Philadelphia’s workforce in 2018, and the city is currently home to the largest immigrant population it’s seen since the 1940s, with about 15% of residents reporting they were born in another country, according to Pew Research.

A big part of the American growth story for the future will be shaped by immigrants.

2. Older Immigrants

Demonstrating how our changing population grows older

Across the nation, nearly 14% of residents are foreign-born, the highest share in more than a century, and higher concentrations of immigrants overall are predictive of growing cities.

Immigrants are, on average, younger than their native-born peers. As generations of past immigrants get older, however, they offer insight into how Americans age in place. Roughly three-quarters of older immigrants earn less than $35,000, per a Technical.ly analysis, as they live on fixed incomes or rely on family and friends.

3. Immigrant Entrepreneurs

Outsized economic and cultural contributors

Immigrants to the United States are 80% more likely to start companies than their native-born peers, per a recent analysis by

an MIT economist, and their firms tend to employ more people. Immigrants made up nearly 22% of all U.S. business owners in 2019, despite comprising less than 14% of the population and 17% of the workforce overall, according to the New American Economy. Their businesses range from commercial corridor storefronts like restaurants and laundromats to high-tech software and gene therapy companies. And they’re often wealth builders: Between 20% and 35% of immigrant entrepreneurs in a given city earn at least $100,000, according to a Technical.ly analysis

4. Black Working Mothers

Crucial leaders in the effort to break generational poverty

More than half of Black mothers are raising children on their own, according to the US Department of Labor, and half with kids under 18 years of age report income of less than $35,000, per a Technical.ly analysis of 20 US cities.

Black working mothers are a vulnerable demographic with a considerable influence on how the next generation of Black families will grow.

5. Young Black Men

A key demographic for economic and social change

Disinvestment and racism leave young Black men one of the most vulnerable — and most important — categories of Americans.

Around three-quarters of young Black men in big US cities live in households reporting income of $35,000 or less, per a Technical.ly analysis. Rates of joblessness, violence, poverty, imprisonment and other social indicators make clear the system has fallen short.

Young Black men are also major sources of culture and creativity, yet remain heavily underrepresented in complex narratives of the country’s economic future.

We have to make it work. Regardless of how many hours you have to work.”

MICHAEL TAN

6. Middle-Income Black Residents

For insights on how to retain and share prosperity with more people

Median household income in Philadelphia is shy of $50,000, more than $20,000 off the national average. Median income for Black households is far lower, just $39,000 in Philadelphia and $46,400 nationally.

In Philadelphia, declines in both the Black population and the Black poverty rate suggest that it is following a path already trod by Boston and New York, cities that pushed out poorer residents without sharing prosperity. That means middle-income Black households have especially important insight.

7. Black Professionals

Proof of ways to combat racebased income inequity and create opportunity

The net wealth of the average white family is 10 times larger than that of the average Black family. Even when controlling for those who started from the same place in their 30s, older white Americans outearn their Black counterparts, according to Brookings.

One way to make up ground is for a higher share of Black workers to earn more and faster. Black professionals who earn more than $100,000 can reflect where racial income and wealth gaps are most readily confronted.

8. Older White Working Residents

Representing a major economic shift

A huge part of our working population is older, thanks to the Boomer generation’s size. Since it’s so relatively large, what this generation does economically matters for everybody else.

The reality is people do want to work. It’s just that we want to work livable wages.”

ERICA IRVING

About 36% of white Americans are over the age of 54, according to Pew Research, significantly more than any other racial group. Some are choosing to work well past retirement age — both by choice and out of financial necessity.

9. Disabled Residents

A growing, diverse and often overlooked part of the workforce

When taking together a range of experiences, disabled residents comprise between 5% and 10% of residents in nearly 20 US cities Technical.ly evaluated for this project.

People who use wheelchairs, people who are deaf or hard of hearing, and people who have low vision use physical space in a different way than designers typically consider and perform tasks in a different way than managers typically consider. Advocates argue those perspectives are often overlooked in understanding our future.

10. Gig-Working Creatives

Demonstrating the vitality, flexibility and economic shortcomings of an emerging part of urban work

Beat poet Jack Kerouac is credited with popularizing our modern sense of the term “gig work” — a temporary job in which you’re not emotionally invested but supports your creative pursuits. These days, a third of Americans contribute to the $1.3 trillion “gig economy” or “freelancer economy.”

Gig-working creatives, whose earnings are split between industries including at least one in an artistic field like music, dance or writing, contribute to the creative makeup of a city — and point to what kind of living is possible. ◆

LyVette Byrd on navigating life as a ‘suddenly blind person’

On the morning of her son’s 29th birthday, LyVette Byrd woke up to a life-altering reality. “I realized my eyes were open, but I saw nothing,” she recalled. “Then I realized ‘LyVette, girl, you blind.’”

This sudden change, when she was 48, marked the beginning of a challenging journey. Even after two surgeries, LyVette’s vision only ever partially returned to her right eye, allowing her to see shadows and large figures.

Before losing her sight, she worked as a liaison between the Community College of Philadelphia and a teen workforce nonprofit called YouthBuild, and was passionate about her job. But it required extensive computer use, and vision loss made this nearly impossible.

“What would take me minutes, took days,” LyVette said.

She moved into an apartment where the landlord accepted vouchers from the Philadelphia Housing Authority, and began relying on issued food stamps. Her Social Security payments were $1,193 a month. All told, it was just enough to keep her sheltered and alive.

To get back to work, she sought assistance from the Pennsylvania Bureau of Blindness and Visual Services, applying to a program that provided a computer screen reader and training on how to use it — and got caught in a bureaucratic cycle. After she was accepted, it turned out the program had run out of money, so LyVette was waitlist-

Gisselle Poveda on the challenges of expanding her small, immigrantowned business

ed. When her turn came up again, there were more interviews to complete, and then more waiting.

Instead of succumbing to frustration, LyVette started concentrating on how she could make the situation better for

others. She revived a consulting business she’d registered in 2003, aiming to help people organize community events and assist entrepreneurs in setting goals.

“From a very humble place, I know that I’m a leader,” LyVette said. “I know I’m a teacher. I am a world changer.”

The day her father decided to launch a business in his new country is etched in Gisselle Poveda’s mind.

“There’s an opportunity for us to have a bakery, but it’s gonna be a lot of work,” the Colombian immigrant told his loved ones. “We’re gonna do this as a family, otherwise it can’t be done.”

Just 16 at the time, Gisselle was all in. She began working alongside her parents at Cafe Tinto, learning how to run the North Philadelphia shop and absorbing recipes passed down from her grandfather. Six years later, when her parents were ready to retire, Gisselle took the helm. Under her stewardship, the bakery sustained its traditional charm while expanding its reach and becoming a neighborhood staple.

Now Gisselle has aspirations to go further. She dreams of opening a second location and launching a coffee brand that carries forth her country’s legacy. “I want people to know Colombia for its coffee,” she said.

Immigrants to the United States start businesses at nearly double the

rate of US-born founders, often tapping into the resilience and ambition that brought them to a new country. On the flip side are the challenges of navigating an unknown cultural and business landscape, where things may happen in a different language and be based on different rules.

So Gisselle is taking it slow. Instead of rushing into expansion for Cafe Tinto, she’s emphasizing the importance of financial stability.

“I don’t wanna have to be stressing and going crazy because I have a loan that I have to pay off,” she said. “I’m motivated by growth, but I want to do it in a healthy manner.”

Gisselle’s story isn’t just about running a successful bakery; it’s about preserving cultural heritage, adapting to a new environment, and the pursuit of the American dream. ◆

What does it mean to thrive as a Black working mother in Philly?

► BY SARAH HUFFMAN

Quiet time is a rare treasure for West Oak Lane resident Dominique Peden, a 33-yearold mother of two whose daily routine consists of daycare dropoff and pickup, cooking, errands, bedtime routines — and of course, work. Peden has always had to maintain two or three jobs to make ends meet. She’s been a dance teacher, a childcare provider, and a trainer with the national Children’s Defense Fund. She never expected to get rich — but becoming a mother brought the precarity of her situation to the fore.

“I think I had accepted a while back that working in childcare, I wasn’t going to be a millionaire,” Peden told Technical.ly, “but when I had kids … I started to realize financially, the burden.”

Philadelphia is home to more than 61,000 Black working mothers aged 20 to 34. About half of them head households earning less than $35,000 per year, mirroring trends in cities like Baltimore and Chicago and ex-

emplifying the national wealth gap between Black and white households. In some cities, including Austin, Boston, and Los Angeles, the outlook for Black working mothers is better than in Philly, and in some it’s worse; two-thirds in Pittsburgh live below the $35k threshold.

Despite these economic hurdles, these mothers are determined to provide for their children and create a better future.

Roxborough resident Shaynise Hill dreams of being a successful businesswoman. She taught herself nail art to support herself and her young son during the pandemic, then got certified and to officially run the business out of her home.

The Philly native dropped out of college six years ago after having her child — it was difficult balancing motherhood with classes and a job. Now, at 26, she’s heading back to cosmetology school with hopes of opening her own storefront.

“I’m big on leaving something behind for my son,” Hill said. “He may not want to do nails, but to say that he has an investment in the nail business stands for itself.”

For Mahalia Sealy, who moved to Philadelphia from Brooklyn for a lower cost of living, greater flexibility is a big reason she’s thinking of starting her own business. Her job as a training coordinator for the Maternity Care Coalition allows her to support her three children, and she gets to spend time with them because she’s mostly allowed to to work from home.

But with the return-to-office trend picking up, she’s aware that that perk might end. “If we go back to full-time in-person,” Sealy said, “I don’t know how I’m going to manage.”

At 30, Grays Ferry resident Celeana Robertson just wants a job that’s steady without being stressful. She returned to work in security after being an Amazon delivery driver (high stress) and a medical assistant (low pay). Her number one goal is making sure she can provide for her mother and her 9-year-old son. She and her mom both work, so their total household income is enough that they don’t qualify for certain benefits.

“I want financial freedom and I don’t want to have to worry about, ‘Hey, well, next week when I get paid, that’s when I’ll have the bills for you,’” Robertson said. “If an emergency happened, I want to be able to tap into my account and take care of what I need to do.” ◆

LISTEN TO THE FULL EPISODE BY SCANNING THE QR CODE

Afghan refugee Ghulam Danish on his journey toward thriving

► BY NICHOLE CURRIE

Ghulam anish is sitting in his used hybrid. He recently immigrated from Afghanistan. And like millions of Americans, he drives for rideshare companies like Uber and Lyft.

Ghulam Danish: The expenses are high here and one job is not enough for, like, low-income families who work entry-level jobs, one job is not enough, I guess.

Ghulam is 31. He has a wife and kids, and he’s always thinking about how to provide for them. They live in Northeast Philadelphia. He doesn’t make very much from driving for rideshare companies, and it’s not what he wants to do forever.

GD: As a refugee, as a newcomer here, I need. I need to do a lot. I have to stand on my own feet, like the way I want … And like right now, me and people like me, we are just trying to survive, which is different from living.

A defining quality of the United States is just how many people in the world would choose

As a refugee, as a newcomer here, people like me, we are just trying to survive, which is different from living.“

GHULAM DANISH

to come here if they could — double the rate of the next country. And in a nation that’s getting older, immigrants bolster our workforce. They create vibrant communities and bring fresh ideas.

Foreign-born residents make up the highest share of Philadelphia’s population since the 1940s. That’s where Ghulam landed after he and his family left Afghanistan. In late August of 2021, Ghulam was living in Kabul when the Taliban invaded. US troops were withdrawing. Ghulam feared he could become a target.

GD: I was working with the US security company. And some of my neighbors knew that I was working there.

On the sixth day of the invasion, Ghulam, his wife Naija, and their 4-year-old daughter Angela got tickets for a flight out of the country. A family friend in the US helped arrange their evacuation.

At 4 a.m., they called a taxi and headed to the Kabul International Airport.

GD: And at that time, airport was a mess. The people of Kabul and surrounding areas, they were trying to get out through the airport. Kilometers away, there was millions of people. The taxi driver said he cannot move forward. We had to walk.

They couldn’t miss this flight.

GD: Because my wife was nine months pregnant. We were expecting another baby. And I was really afraid that if I could not get out at that moment it would become very problematic for us.

They managed to make it into the airport, onto the plane, and out of the country. In less than 24 hours, they left behind their house, family, friends, and their jobs.

GD: I had a good life, good job in Afghanistan before the collapse. Which is of course, not easy, but it’s also not difficult for us except that we have left, uh, our family members back there. We are worried about them.

About a year after they arrived, Ghulam got a job at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, or CHOP. It’s in the cafeteria — cleaning dishes.

GD: It is a hard job. At least for me, it’s a hard job. I haven’t done a physical job before in my country. I was always in office. Now, I’m just doing a survival job. In the beginning, it was actually very hard for me. I was getting exhausted, too much.

He stands for most of his 8-hour shift, working up to 6 days a week, usually on the weekends, and always at night.

GD: It’s not a normal life that I’m living now. A normal life would be having family time, having friends time, having a fun time. I’m looking for a better job, an office job where I could work during the day and be home during the evening and during the weekend. And a job with normal pay. Not too high, not too low.

He says he makes about $20 an hour. That’s about $41,000 a year to support a family of four. When he’s not working, Ghulam is in his bedroom-turned office. A nearly empty room where he sits at the computer, glued to the screen. Looking for resources to help him find a job.

He’s perfecting his LinkedIn, prepping for interviews with career coaches, and taking classes in project management and data analysis. Despite that, job applications haven’t been fruitful.

GD: They are insistent that I’m overqualified. So they say I may not stay there for a long time. Although I am telling them that I will be working with you guys for a long time. But they don’t believe.

From other employers, he’s heard the opposite.

GD: They somehow emailed that I’m not suitable for those jobs, but, uh, I am. Although it was also kind of entry-level job, I think I have also some limitations. Basically considering my accent or something,

they might thought that I’m not suitable for those jobs.

While it’s illegal to judge applicants on their accents, it can still happen. The Pew Research Center estimates almost 47% of immigrants in the US do not speak English proficiently. Ghulam speaks English — and four other languages — which is more than most Americans. Regardless, he worries about how employers will feel about his accented English.

He’s trying to thread a needle.

Three months later, Ghulam and his family welcome their third child — a baby girl named Sarah. And then, one week after Sarah’s birth, Ghulam gets the news he’s been waiting for.

GD: I got another job.

It’s an office job, as a career coach for refugees at the Nationalities Service Center in Philadelphia.

Four months later, the family is at Pennypack Park, where they come almost every weekend now that Ghulam only works weekdays. It reminds him of the village where he grew up, a few miles outside Kabul.

GD: My birthplace, we have the valley and water like this. … Because of the river and this nature, it gives the same, the same beauty, the same sense of within, the same feeling.

The family begins unpacking their picnic basket. They unfold lawn chairs, blankets, and set up a small portable swing for Sarah. Naija takes out homemade Afghan treats, chocolate chip cookies, and a thermal mug filled with hot tea.

Ghulam takes his shoes off, walks into the stream. He gathers a few rocks, and shows Angela the right angle to skip them. When he’s not in the water, he sits in his lawn chair, gazing at the stream and his family, absorbing what can seem like a mundane moment.

GD: It feels good to sit and watch the river stream. I mean, for me, it’s always enjoyable and peaceful to sit by the riverside and have some silence for myself.

He has peace, a job he loves, and a beautiful family in Philadelphia, making use of the skills he and his wife have, raising kids who have so much promise.

Ghulam is no longer in survival mode. He’s finally living. ◆

Quan Fields (aka Quany the Clown) on making it as a circus performer

► BY NICHOLE CURRIE

When quan fields was 12 years old, he was set on auditioning to perform with the Ringling Brothers Circus. The closest one he found was in New York, but he was living with his grandparents in North Philadelphia, and they didn’t feel comfortable taking him. Plus, the audition was on a school day. ¶ But Quan was determined.

QUAN FIELDS: I was up all night Googling how to get to New York from Philadelphia. The cheapest way was to go on the 11th and Market, and go on the Chinatown buses. And it’ll connect you from Chinatown, Philadelphia, to Chinatown, New York.

So that day, he went to school, wrote his name on the attendance sheet, then left. Using saved up allowance money to buy a bus ticket, he made it to New York City. While waiting to audition, Quan accidentally photobombed a picture the Ringling Brothers staff uploaded to their Facebook page — just in time for his grandfather to casually scroll through his facebook feed and see it. Grandpa was not happy. He found a number to call staff at the Ringling Brothers audition. They pulled Quan out of line. But the 12-year-old had found his life inspiration.

QF: And from there on, I knew it. I couldn’t work for anybody. I found my way into the circus. I gotta get there.

Due to disinvestment, racism and cultural factors, young Black men continue to be one the most economically vulnerable groups in America. This cloud of disadvantages makes it difficult for many to reach financial security and pursue their dreams. And yet like any integral group, they still find ways to generate culture and experience joy.

When 12-year-old Quan got back from New York, he launched his own business.

QF: The whole business started based upon a lie. It’s the best lie I ever told in my life. I did my little cousin DJ’s first birthday party. And they originally tried to hire Jazzy the Clown. She’s one of the hottest clowns here in Philadelphia.

Jazzy was and still is a very popular hip-hop clown in the Philadelphia area.

QF: They couldn’t afford her. So I’m like, listen, I just seen Bello two years ago. I just went to the Ringling auditions. Let’s go to Party City. We’re going to get me a costume. We’re going to get some makeup. I’m going to be the clown.

He agreed to do the show for free. He got a simple costume and called himself Quany the Clown. He learned beginner-friendly tricks on YouTube, like juggling and pulling a coin from behind a child’s ear.

QF: And it was the worst show I ever did in my life. But for some odd reason, from the outside looking in, people liked it. And that’s how it started.

Sixteen years later, Quan’s business has grown. He still performs at birthday parties, but is also booked for block parties and weddings. He started a clown troupe called Quany and Friends. When he can afford to, he runs a summer program for kids. He even performed in a music video for Tierra Whack. He has multiple streams of income to pay the bills, including a small dog grooming and dog training business, but he’s been trying to double down on the circus stuff. Three years ago, he started talking about it with friend and colleague Zohar Yakov, also known as Zabo.

Zabo is a third-generation circus performer who’s traveled the world. His and Quan’s first thought was to audition togeth-

Some people, they don’t like the smell of elephant dung and sawdust and peanuts and popcorn, candy, all in the same room. But to me, it smells like magic.“

QUAN FIELDS

er for touring acts like the Ringling Brothers, Universoul Circus, and the Big Apple Circus.

QF: And we noticed it doesn’t matter how skilled you are, being a man of color. It’s hard to get on shows. … It was like, OK, so we can’t. We can’t make these people hire us. How about we create the opportunity for us?

At first, both Quan and Zabo wanted to launch their own circuses. But Zabo registered his business first, and invited Quan to become a co-owner.

The duo started off performing at smallscale events, sometimes for free. If Zabo could get a gig in New York, Quan would travel to perform with him. And vice versa when Quan booked Philly events. But it wasn’t enough to sustain them both fulltime. So they embarked on a campaign to get more visibility.

At first, they didn’t have much success. They sent a press kit to more than 500 organizations across the East Coast, places like chambers of commerce, YMCAs, and trade shows. But they still weren’t getting booked. Then one day,the algorithm smiled upon them.

Months before the full Thriving podcast was released, short audio profiles were published about each participant. Quan shared his audio story on Instagram, and to his sur-

prise, a distant supporter of his reshared it. A supporter who happens to be a famous actor.

QF: Mr. David Arquette. He reposted it.

Little known fact: Arquette is not just an actor known for his role in the “Scream” franchise. He recently started studying to be a clown, and bought the rights to TV character Bozo the Clown. Quan became acquainted with him over social media, over their shared love for the circus.

The post went viral.

QF: I swear like instantly, 30 minutes. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. My phone is going off. People just commenting, commenting, commenting. People call me. “Hey, I didn’t know you were starting a circus. I thought you was a one-man show. I thought you were just doing birthday parties.” I’m like, wow.

Friends and strangers began donating money to help make his bigger circus dreams a reality. Some booked Zabo’s Circus for performances. All thanks to the power of networking — and a celeb who turned out to be a kindred spirit.

QF: David is a clown. David is a comedian. David is an actor. The only difference we have is, David is rich — and Quany’s trying to get rich. ◆

Doriana Diaz on trying to make a living through gig work

Doriana Diaz, a 23-year-old artist from Germantown, faced a pivotal moment when she realized her full-time job at an art museum was hindering her creative spirit. Despite delivering consistent income and benefits, it left her overworked, underpaid, and without the energy to pursue her own work. She was at a crossroads.

“I really don’t wanna do this anymore,” she recalled telling her therapist. “I don’t have any money saved. I graduated college a year ago, like, what am I supposed to do?”

Despite her trepidation, Doriana took the plunge. She quit the full-time muse-

um job to be a gig-worker. About a third of Americans contribute to what’s been called the $1.3 trillion freelance economy. And more than 6,000 Philadelphians earn full-time wages by piecing together money from their creative endeavors with earnings in other industries.

Doriana started with a part-time position at a t-shirt printing outfit, to give her something steady as she figured out how to use her collages to make money. Her art celebrates her Black and Puerto Rican heritage, and she draws inspiration from legendary Philadelphia poet Sonia Sanchez, striving to create works that are exciting and chaotic.

She began traveling to street fairs around the region, seeking out markets that didn’t have a table fee. She reached out to the Free Library, and hosted dozens of collage workshops at various branches. She also led workshops at the Bok Building, and even got a commission for an exhibition at the African American Museum.

“The freelance life can be seen as a

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very reckless way of life,” Doriana said. “But I think that for me, it’s just been the most worthwhile thing that I’ve ever done. And the decision to bet on myself has been the best choice that I’ve ever made.” ◆

Stephon Fitzpatrick on pursuing a Ph.D. and being a role model

When University City resident Stephon Fitzpatrick was 16, he made a bold declaration to his father. “Dad,” he said, “I’m gonna get my Ph.D. by the time I’m 32.”

That ambition led Stephon to his current position as the first ever executive director for the Pa. Commission for Agriculture Education Excellence. His journey started back in middle school, when he chose Future Farmers of America as his favorite extracurricular activity.

“I was a Black kid getting into agriculture,” Stephon recalled. “There were none of my friends, nobody was getting into this space. And the next thing you know, here we are 18 years later, still advocating it.”

The climb hasn’t been easy. He began doctoral studies at the University of Maryland Eastern Shore, where he had free education credits, then was offered the job in Pennsylvania. He took it, but

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the move to a different state forced him to rely on student loans — he didn’t want additional debt — but even that ran out when he reached his aggregate FAFSA limit. Ever resourceful, Stephon reached out to a former contact, who reviewed his good record and was able to find university money to pay for a few more semesters.

Now he’s on track to finally get that PhD this spring. Stephon’s determination, his willingness to make changes, and the importance of building and utilizing relationships have gotten him to the finish line for his degree. He says it’s wonderful to see it all pay off.

“When you’re a minority in agriculture and you look like me — I’m 6’4”, I’m 315. I’m dark skinned. I have tattoos,” Stephon said. “When you’re in an industry that hasn’t catered to minorities, there’s a level of confidence that you have to have. … I think over the past 20 years of being in this industry up till now, I’ve learned that the key to my specific industry is relationship building. ◆

What helps Philadelphia’s older immigrants thrive?

► BY PAIGE GROSS

Married couple Kalpana Venkat and Ramesh Venkatakrishnan consider the Philly region to be home. Now 64 and 70, respectively they’re grandparents, and have a solid network of friends and business contacts. But when they immigrated from India in the late 20th century, that community was not easy to come by.

“I came here with two suitcases, some clothes and Indian pots and pans I needed,” Venkat said. “Everything I have today is through our hard work, determination.”

The duo considers themselves to have lived the American dream — “owning a home, paying it off and sustaining yourself in retirement.” But the immigrant experience has changed since they arrived, they said, and that over the last several years, hostility toward foreign-born people has risen.

Philadelphia’s immigrant population is at its largest since the 1940s, comprising about 15% of its residents and close to 20% of the city’s workforce. But the demographic also includes a significant number of older people — and of the 66,700 immigrants aged 65 and

older, three-quarters earn $35,000 or less.

South Philly resident Cecilia Johnson wants to work. She’s been living in the city since 2017, after fleeing war trauma in her native Liberia to join family already here. But despite over $1,000 in fees paid so far toward paperwork and legal processing, she hasn’t yet been able to obtain the green card that would let her apply for jobs.

She’s unhappy about continuing to depend on her cousin, who’s been helping her with essentials like food and shelter. “It’s just been worrying, thinking. Worrying, thinking,” Johnson said. “I’m a strong woman. I can work.”

Because older immigrants often face economic strain, there can be pressure to contin-

ue working beyond the typical retirement age.

Colombia native Alvaro Chicue, now 75, moved to Philly six years ago when he retired from his job as a jeweler at Tiffany & Co. in New York. He feels blessed to have had that opportunity, but being out of work has forced him to rely more on his family. He’s been living with his son, daughter-inlaw and their two children. He said his financial situation isn’t exactly ideal, but it’s enough to get by.

Postponing retirement isn’t always a financial calculus. Man Wong, a 65-year-old Philly-area restaurateur who immigrated from Hong Kong in his early 20s, said he continues working for the mental challenge and the connection to others.

Trained as a fine artist in his native city, Wong did not love working in his family’s Northeast Philadelphia restaurant. He eventually moved to New York to pursue a performing arts career. He performed internationally and booked a variety of shows, but “with my age, immigrant background and language accent, I don’t think I can reach the top levels of Hollywood,” he said.

An injury brought him back to Philadelphia, and he dove wholeheartedly into the restaurant industry. He now runs four food establishments and advocates for more recognition for the cuisine of his heritage. He’ll never forget the early training he received, and credits that with his drive to continue.

“I have to thank my mentors,” Wong said. “That gave me the foundation of the values, good values for my lifetime.” ◆

Erica Irving on building a better financial future for her family

Erica Irving, a 28-year-old mother from Northwest Philadelphia, had a mini financial epiphany when she discovered she was pregnant. Coming from a family with a troubled relationship with credit, Erica was determined to rewrite her financial narrative for the sake of her child.

“As soon as I found out I was having Shiloh, [I was like], ‘Oh, I have to get myself together,’” Erica said. “So I made a list of all the things I had to kind of put in place, the things I had to think about — what I wanted for myself, what I wanted for her.”

Working full-time in dispatch at a food delivery company, Erica was earn-

ing $20 an hour, which she figured was enough to start a savings account for Shiloh. She also signed up for her first credit cards after learning that would increase her credit rating.

The plan was working, and Erica was excited for her daughter’s financial future. But eight months after Shilhloh was born, her well-laid plans were disrupted when her entire department was laid off.

Unemployment challenges were compounded by delays in receiving her checks and the fact that Shiloh’s non-verbal, hyposensitive autism required special toys and foods. Erica missed a few credit card payments and

even had to dip into Shiloh’s savings to buy groceries. She watched her credit score plummet — but didn’t give up.

In fall 2022, Erica secured a new job as a 9-1-1 dispatcher. The late shifts allowed her to be with Shiloh during the day, and the $25 hourly rate provided the financial stability she needed. She resumed saving for Shiloh’s future and rebuilding her credit.

Erica’s story is a testament to the resilience and determination of Black working mothers in Philadelphia, striving to build a better future for their children despite systemic obstacles and personal challenges. ◆

Michael Tan on the challenges of expanding his small business

On a quiet street in Old City Philadelphia, husband and wife Michael and Ici Tan run a bakery named ICI. Before it opened in 2015, the couple were essentially home bakers making fantastic croissants and macarons. Over time, they built a dedicated customer base, with some flocking to the shop for traditional pastries, and others for those carefully made gluten-free.

Michael credits his entrepreneurial drive to succeed to the environment in which he grew up, after his family immigrated to New York from China when he was 9 years old.

“You want a quality of life,” Michael said about immigrants like his parents. “You want an education for your children. You want to give them more possibilities of what they want to do.”

After graduating from college, Michael launched and ran his own soft-

ware business, and supported his family that way for 13 years. Then he and Ici decided to try something new, so they opened the bakery. Then the pandemic hit.

By the time the couple reopened after lockdowns, they’d lost most of their employees, leaving them to work 18hour days. Plans to move the bakery to a more central location, closer to tourist attractions, also stalled — and they’d already purchased the space. The entire building needed to be renovated, but construction expenses skyrocketed, and for over a year, the move was delayed.

Despite these setbacks, Michael remains optimistic about the future of ICI. He hopes to maintain his old customer base while attracting new customers who are visiting Philadelphia.

“Many people think that running a business, you could see it from the beginning to end really quick,” Michael said. “[But] progress does not move as fast as you might think. Success does not come as fast as we might think. It takes time.” ◆

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Linda Hines on learning new skills as a grandma who works

South Philly resident Linda Hines has dedicated her life to caring for children. Now a 63-year-old grandmother, she raised her own kids plus several others in the neighborhood. When they grew up, she got a job at a daycare center, where she’s been for the past 23 years.

“I love doing my job. I love working with children,” Linda said. “Making the kids happy. Seeing smiles on their face, like when they first come through the door and they trust you. They come right up to you and they hug you.”

A few years back, the daycare center encouraged Linda’s to pursue a Child Development Associate (CDA) certification. Considered crucial for early educators, the certificate can lead to better pay

and more parental trust. Linda was excited to go for it, since she’s not ready to retire.

“I want to still stay with work,” she said, “and working with children, and try to get them better education by me having a better education.”

The journey to obtaining the CDA, however, left Linda filled with anxiety. It’s been 40 years since shewas in school, and tests were never her strong point. “Sometimes I’m not good like that,” she said. “I could talk and tell you about things, but I can’t write it down. I get nervous.”

Still, Linda remains committed to the goal. She completed the required preparation course and is studying her work-

Christa Barfield on growing an urban farming business

books. When the test comes around, she’ll be ready. Plus, she’s already put her new knowledge into practice.

“I feel very good because I’m teaching different stuff and seeing the kids, how they’re learning,” Linda said, “I get all excited when they start asking questions. So I’m proud of myself.” ◆

Germantown native Christa Barfield is on a mission to make fresh food more accessible in her community. At 30, she started organic tea company Viva Leaf Tea, and at 32, she launched FarmerJawn, taking over hundreds of acres of arable land near the city. Last year, she opened FarmerJawn Greenery, a storefront selling indoor plants and holistic items.

“I am a person that understands that taking on a lot of things can either cause turmoil or it can be bliss,” Christa said. “Usually it’s a mixture of the two. And that has definitely been my experience. But it always ends up great. Which is what it’s supposed to be.”

Her latest project, CornerJawn, aims to redefine the corner store by providing local produce alongside staple items. The idea emerged when Christa and a friend visited several shops in urban food deserts — and realized most of the options were not healthy or fresh.

“It comes down to how do we change the psychology of where people find their produce or get their produce from,

and how do we also shift the dynamic of what people use corner stores for,” Christa said.

In January 2022, she was selected to receive a $50,000 grant from the Pa. Department of Agriculture for the CornerJawn concept. But it came with strings attached — it’s a reimbursement grant, requiring Christa to spend her own money first and then get paid back. This put a strain on her budget and investments, especially because her first chosen store location fell through at the last minute.

Despite the setbacks, she’s feeling good about where the project is heading.”In my belief … everything happens for a reason,” Christa said. “I’m fully grounded in my faith knowing that there is no issue. Like, we are going to be fine.” ◆

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Au Naturel

100% cotton, zero-waste underwear start-up talks lofty goals and consumer response —

BY MARILYN ANTHONY

The big favorite wants to redirect our worn out panties, briefs and bras into the zero-waste economy — but there’s a catch. Used polyester-infused underwear is not currently suitable for recycling. With no place left to go but the trash can, undies join the estiomated 11 million pounds of textiles dumped in landfills yearly.

In 2020, The Big Favorite (TBF) founder Eleanor Turner launched her sustainable clothing business with the belief that growing numbers of consumers want to break the clothing waste cycle, cutting back on the estimated 89 pounds of clothing the average American consigns to landfills annually. Turner thought plastic-free underwear would be the best foundation on which to build her innovative company, initially located in Philadelphia and now based in Yardley, Bucks County.

TBF’s mission is to create a zero-trash standard for their products. Their “base layer” line of panties, sports bras, briefs and tees showcases Pima cotton, known for its superior comfort, durability and recycling ease. “Our garments are so comfortable, customers tell us they forget they are wearing them,” Turner says. TBF customers are encouraged to wear out their purchases and send them back clean. TBF pays for shipping, sanitizes the garments and passes them to a third party to be repurposed into yarn.

While Pima cotton may be familiar to discerning consumers, less well known is that Pima is native to Peru, where it was originally cultivated by Indigenous peoples, Turner says. TBF contracts with Peruvian manufacturers able to meet TBF’s standards of fair labor practices, energy conservation and environmental impact. Mindful of the extensive greenwashing in

the fashion industry, Turner travels to Peru to walk the sewing line and facilities. The business owner wants her customers to trust that the promise of organic materials, natural dyes and material reuse behind each purchase has been verified.

As TBF’s sole full-time employee, Turner is no fashion novice. Previously, she acquired industry experience and professional contacts as a designer for brands like Tory Burch and J.Crew. She learned that fostering creativity and experimentation is critical to business success. But she also discovered that adding polyester to cotton is cost-cutting magic. As companies wove more plastic into clothing to balance retail prices with profit, she saw an opportunity to create a sustainable alternative literally from the bottom up, making naturally-dyed undergarments from organic fibers. Cur-

rently, TBF sells online direct to consumers but expects to expand its distribution in 2024 after completing what Turner describes as a “thoughtful testing of retail and wholesale channels.”

Starting with a small, unisex product line of thongs ($16), briefs, tees and organic Pima turtlenecks ($65) enabled TBF to do what every start-up must accomplish: keep the business simple, prove the concept and experiment to find the best solutions. TBF’s added challenge was building a resourcereplenishing circular system — rare in an industry plagued by waste.

Despite Vogue magazine’s recent claim that “the future of fashion in the 2020s is circular,” consumer response has not turned out as Turner had expected. She had thought customers would support TBF products because of its mission, especially after articles in Elle, Marie Claire, and Fast Company magazines praised the company’s “circularity.” Instead, Turner says, her products are known for their “fit, quality and support for natural biomes.” Mission, it appears, matters less than anticipated. Participation in TBF’s return/recycle pro-

The Big Favorite founder Eleanor Turner thinks underpants could be the first step towards a circular clothing industry.

gram still falls short of its ambitious goals, while comfort, style and convenience predominate as consumers’ main motivators.

Ali Howell Abolo, associate professor and program director of fashion design at Drexel University, describes the prevailing market forces succinctly. “Fast fashion companies are continually pushing overconsumption.” While some may claim to support sustainable practices, Howell Abolo questions how inclusive and valid such claims are. “We need to think about the cultural, social, economic and environmental impacts [of a business] all as aspects of sustainability.”

Kimberly McGlonn, founder of the Philly-based sustainable clothing company Grant Blvd, knows how tough it is to change the conversation around fashion. Since 2017,

Our garments are so comfortable, customers tell us they forget they are wearing them.”

ELEANOR TURNER, founder of The Big Favorite

she has nurtured her mission-driven enterprise, and it hasn’t gotten much easier. As consumers, “we are failing with aligning our consumptive behaviors with an understanding of what is happening in the areas of climate catastrophe and social justice,” McGlonn believes. She questions why we are willing to pay far more for a flashy designer label than it costs to produce, but seem resistant to put a premium on goods that redefine “luxury” by being sustainably and ethically manufactured.

As Turner looks to grow her business, she faces an uncertainty many founders encounter. Pitted against the massive marketing budgets and economies of scale enjoyed by established brands, how can innovative small companies change consumer behavior? Howell Abolo sees the potential for change as more students in fashion programs arrive with baseline knowledge in sustainable design. Even more importantly, she says, “Newer generations bring an awareness of the climate crisis, understand a need for change, and they want to change.”

With mission-driven companies like Grant Blvd and The Big Favorite and sustainability-minded young designers shaping fashion, customers can’t claim a lack of alternatives. So what will be the tipping point that lures consumers away from fast fashion to become champions of sustainable clothing? Will it begin by recycling our underwear? Howell Abolo hopes more companies begin taking eco-friendly actions. “Consumers of many different target markets are interested in being more sustainable,” she says. “We’re seeing more interest in clothing repair, buying quality over quantity.” The huge dilemma is making sustainably-produced products affordable. She urges fashion pioneers, “don’t give up.”

Before launching her business, Turner discovered that, in the 1930s, her great-grandfather owned a company called The Big Favorite that made workwear for American laborers. Dickies eventually acquired the company and retired the name. Excited by this legacy, Turner reclaimed and reinvented the TBF brand. She sees a through line connecting the practical clothing her great-grandfather made with her contemporary garments. “They are all built for American life … and for what people need,” she says. “We just need to be comfortable. I like to think he’s proud.” ◆

Dress for Success

Long-running nonprofit boutique leverages partnerships to alleviate clothing insecurity —

BY DAWN KANE

In a women’s recovery home for addiction, a volunteer offered to wash Rhonda Richardson’s laundry for her. After seeing that Richardson owned only a few worn pieces of clothing, the woman gave her a voucher for free clothes from The Wardrobe. Little did Richardso n know, she’d find both confidence-boosting outfits and a support group at the local nonprofit working to end clothing insecurity. Today

Richardson credits the staff and volunteers at The Wardrobe with helping her believe in herself, even on the tough days.

“They made me really feel like somebody,” Richardson says.

The staff at The Wardrobe, founded as

Career Wardrobe in 1995, consider themselves transition experts: whether outfitting individuals entering the workforce, or providing everyday clothing to low-income families, immigrants or college students.

After receiving the clothing she needed to successfully gain employment and begin a college program, Richardson went on to become a volunteer and conduct successful fundraisers for The Wardrobe. “I needed something that was strong,” she says. “When you look good, you feel good, and when you feel good, you do good.”

Richardson’s story shows the dramatic difference the right clothes can have on a person’s life, but not everyone has equal access.

While middle and upper income folks of-

ten have excess clothing — in the U.S. about 89 pounds of unwanted items per person go into the trash each year based on EPA figures — others don’t have enough. That lack can hold back individuals with low or no income from educational and career opportunities. That’s why The Wardrobe joined forces with community partners across the region to stop clothing insecurity and reduce the environmental harm caused by textile waste.

The Wardrobe’s locations in Philadelphia and Upper Darby (and partner agency Wings for Success in Exton and Kennett Square, Chester County) accept adult-sized clothing and toiletry donations. Volunteers sort items by size to give to clients in need, sell in their

stores or ship in boxes to subscribers across the country. Their wardrobe box service curates clothing items and accessories to match individual’s style profile, size and need. The service is available at no charge to clients with clothing insecurity, and sold to others for $65 a box for four garments and an accessory. More than 90 subscribers’ payments currently support the program.

At the stores, the staff strive to create a welcoming environment for everyone. Whether a person is experiencing homelessness or needs clothes for gender expression, all are equally welcome alongside middle-income customers looking for wardrobe updates.

“Can you imagine what it feels like to be welcomed into the store, even if you’re experiencing homelessness?” says executive director Sheri K. Cole. Each month, the staff organizes open wardrobe days to provide free clothing and support services to clients from targeted groups, including veterans, women, LGBTQIA+ and immigrants.

“I come from a retail background,” says

We need everything in your closet to cherry pick the best things that our clients deserve.”

SHERI K. COLE, The Wardrobe executive director

Viviane Redding, a program coordinator. “I have worked [at] places where people have kicked people out for three things wrong … It’s lovely to work somewhere that actively works to prevent that from happening.”

Still, Cole knows the organization’s limitations. Her staff may not be able to reach a person on the other side of town who lacks transportation, and while they want people to donate every article of clothing, pair of shoes, or accessory that they no longer want, she knows that many of those items won’t work for their clients.

So, with The Wardrobe acting as a central distribution point, more than 150 community partners help bridge the gap. Groups like Prevention Point in Kensington, which empowers people affected by poverty and drug use, can coordinate clothing donations and distribution.

Broad Street Ministry, for example, has the space to receive large donations of clothing, but doesn’t have the resources to manage it. “We’re more of the experts at radical hospitality,” says Laure Biron, chief executive officer. “We have about 21 staff that do all the direct service work to those 7,000 individuals we serve a year … We have much less experience in the merchandising area.” Now the two organizations share space, training and staff to leverage their strengths and better serve the community, Biron says.

The Wardrobe also partners with Helpsy, a New Jersey-based textile collection company and B Corp, to recycle what they cannot use. According to a 2023 report published by The Roundup, we produce 92 million tons of textile waste globally each year. Just 20% of textile waste is collected and 1% of clothing is recycled as a new garment. In the end, 87% of materials used to make our clothes end up incinerated or in a landfill.

Founded in May 2016, Helpsy aims to reduce the environmental impact of the clothing industry. “We believe that clothes aren’t trash,” says Lisa Sciannella, chief of staff at Helpsy. Through home pickups, clothing drives and collection bins, the company partners with nonprofits, municipalities and schools in ten states to keep clothing out of landfills.

According to Helpsy’s 2023 impact statement, the company has diverted 31 million pounds of clothing and shoes from the waste stream, a savings of nearly 6 billion gallons of water and 207 million pounds of carbon emissions.

While they focus on environmental impacts, Sciannella says, as a B Corp they strive to provide meaningful work and pay a livable wage to their 73% diverse workforce, including productivity incentives and making their employees company stakeholders. They also contribute winter coats to organizations for distribution where needed.

In partnership with The Wardrobe, Helpsy offers free clothing pickups from households in Bucks, Chester and Montgomery counties that wish to donate to The Wardrobe. The nonprofit also buys The Wardrobe’s excess donated clothing as well as those that are too worn to resell. Cole says that the clothing that doesn’t work for their local partners can go to Helpsy, where she knows it will be recycled correctly and not just shipped overseas to another country’s landfill.

In their store on North 4th Street, Cole gestures at the racks of clothing, reflecting on the importance of donations. “You might see here that we have tailored, highend things — very nice stuff — but we need everything in your closet to cherry pick the best things that our clients deserve.” ◆

Sherri K. Cole of The Wardrobe wants everyone to have the outfit they need to get ahead, regardless of employment or housing status.

Textile Transfiguration

Germantown-based designer turns forlorn garments into meaningful treasures —

BY EMILY KOVACH

When Moth Snow was in college, they would spend afternoons scouring thrift stores for discarded sartorial gems. Perusing the racks, they’d perform a kind of tactile divination, feeling the hem of a sweater or collar of a blouse, then guessing its fiber content. Was it cotton? Wool? A polyester blend? Their fingertips would seek answers, which they’d confirm by peeking at the sewn-in tag.

They learned this strategy from a professor in a class at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), where they graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in 2017. The class was focused on the impacts of the textile industry, and it provided some eye-opening revelations.

“My teacher was emphatic about the human and environmental costs of the industry, globally and especially in the U.S.,” Snow remembers. “We also discussed the sheer waste that churning so many garments creates; 2,000 garments go into the waste stream every second, that’s like 11 million tons a year in the U.S. alone!”

Appalled by these statistics, Snow started a small brand called Touch Threads, a textile upcycling brand where secondhand material becomes the canvas for one-of-akind wearable artworks.

Touch Threads began with Snow rescuing natural fabrics, like linen, silk, wool and cotton, from thrift shops. Using fabricdyeing skills learned over a series of sum-

mer internships with Chester County-based artist Leni Hoch (“my textile fairy godmother”), Snow started overdyeing stained or ripped — but otherwise durable and high-quality — clothes and accessories.

“I usually focus on flawed garments, things I can only make better,” they say. “I can save the good stuff that no one else wants.”

Snow moved to Philly in 2017 and gigged around while cultivating Touch Threads on the side, frequently vending at craft fairs and art markets. The pandemic created the push they needed to focus on the brand full-time.

“In the 2020 of it all, I realized I was the only person who could employ me, so I thought, ‘Let’s do this and see how it goes,” Snow says.

I can save a whole blanket from the landfill and use it to create multiple garments.”

MOTH SNOW, owner of Touch Threads

Working from their studio in Germantown, Snow continues to evolve the Touch Threads aesthetic and style. Most of their garments feature an ethereal watercolor look, the result of the ice-dyeing and other dyeing practices they use. Over the past few years, they’ve begun to incorporate handdrawn, painted and block-printed designs and embellishments as well. They tend toward motifs that celebrate nature, including mountains, trees, animals and plants, as well as mythical iconography.

“There’s always been a clear through line in my work about how beautiful and special nature is,” Snow notes. “I tell stories with each piece — if I add an image of a deer, I’ll also include flora and fauna from the same geographical area as a nod to the different watersheds and natural divides.”

Snow also reconstructs clothing from

large pieces of second-hand fabrics, like sheets, blankets and sleeping bags. A tapestry may be reimagined as a boatneck tee, or a quilt may be dyed to obscure discoloration, then sewn into a cropped hoodie with a detachable hood.

“I can save a whole blanket from the landfill and use it to create multiple garments,” Snow says. “And if things have stains, I can engineer a design that covers flaws or bring in patches; I see all the possibilities in a garment that’s damaged and puzzle-piece together how to make it more interesting and wearable.”

In addition to selling their upcycled garments through the Touch Threads website and Instagram, Snow has worked with retailers across Philly to bring their work to more people. In the fall of 2022, buyers for the Philadelphia Museum of Art gift shop

reached out, asking if Snow could paint a series of tote bags. Since then, Touch Threads has created five collections for the museum. These have mostly consisted of jackets and button-down shirts with a focus on size inclusivity.

Moon & Arrow, a boutique on Fabric Row, welcomed Touch Threads as its featured artist in June 2023 with a collection of 12 pieces. Big Top Vintage in Port Richmond has also consigned an array of Touch Threads garments since October 2023. Big Top’s owner, Elliott Arrack, says that Touch Threads fits right in with their philosophy of sustainability.

“There are enough clothes in the world — we don’t need to make any more clothes,” Arrack says. “Moth takes pieces that are already in rotation and works with them to make something beautiful that someone can add as a statement piece in their closet rather than a factory-made blank garment.”

Arrack and Snow first met while working at the same craft markets and got to know each other better when Touch Threads applied to be a vendor at the Richmond Street Flea, a monthly vintage and art market that Arrack co-curates and organizes.

“I got to learn more about their work and bought my first Touch Threads piece, which is an ice-dyed, hand-painted leotard,” Arrack explains. “It seemed like a no-brainer invitation to have them in the shop.”

Snow hopes to continue expanding their list of stockists, pursue more collaborations and diversify what they create — with a hint that future home goods and kids’ clothes might be on the way. They also aim to connect with more individuals to create custom Touch Thread-ified garments.

“You can take something you already own, like a jean jacket you never wear anymore, and I can inscribe it with meaningful motifs that can help you feel empowered in your identity,” Snow says. “It’s like getting a tattoo, but for your clothes.”

This harkens back to the founding principles of Touch Threads: to remove clothes from the wastestream and create timeless items that will last for decades.

“There’s so much power in giving time back to your clothes; fixing and mending them is an act of care,” Snow notes. “You’re going to have these garments for years and years. My favorite thing to hear from people is how often they’re living in these pieces.”

Moth Snow transforms stained and ripped fabric into nature-inspired wearable art.

Time Warp

South Philly weaving studio/yarn shop teaches the slowest kind of fashion —

BY EMILY KOVACH

On the fourth floor of the Bok Building, a handful of students are gathered in the airy, white-walled workshop space at Weaver House. Each person sits at their own floor loom, a large and elegantly complex machine constructed from blonde wood, strung across with fibers. The mood in the room is one of concentration, each person immersed in their own radius of methodical movement as their feet work the treadles (pedals) and their hands carefully guide the shuttle through the field of threads before them. An instructor travels from loom to loom, gently helping the students as their weaving creates a chorus of sounds that echo through the space.

The workshops here are an almost sacred space, where newcomers and long-time members of the city’s fiber and craft communities come together to learn the craft of weaving. People come from across the world to study at Weaver House, as it’s one of only five or so places on the East Coast — besides colleges and universities — to offer floor-loom education.

Classes are just one component of Weaver House; it also operates a yarn shop and an online store offering many kinds of yarn, looms, weaving accessories and educational materials. But the workshops are closest to owner Rachel Snack’s heart.

“I really enjoy teaching and sharing my passion with others, it’s one of my strengths,” Snack says. “I want people to fall in love with the craft.”

Snack, a textile artist and leader in the national weaving community, earned a graduate degree at Philadelphia University (now Thomas Jefferson University), one of the oldest textile programs in the country. After working as the creative director for a yarn company, she opened Weaver House in the fall of 2019 primarily as a studio and weaving school, with a small selection of

goods to support the students’ projects. During the pandemic, sales of yarn skyrocketed, and she pivoted to include a larger retail operation.

The yarn shop, which is in another sundrenched room on the second floor of Bok, is lined with cones and skeins of yarn in a gorgeous palette of colors both bright and neutral. While Weaver House carries lots of what Snack calls “workhorse” yarns, its true specialty is high-end, slow-made,

handspun fibers, often produced by small cooperatives and family-run mills.

“There are so many alternative materials, like naturally-dyed hemp, braided jute, all sorts of linen and handspun raimie, and part of our ethos is teaching people how to work with those yarns,” Snack says. “You’ll never be able to find those fibers in a big box yarn store or even other yarn shops.”

Most yarn you do find in chain craft stores, Snack explains, is acrylic, polyester or a

If we just consume less in general, we can spend more to make one thing that will last for many years to come.”

RACHEL SNACK, Weaver House owner

blend, all of which are essentially made of plastics. These are the same fibers that are found in fast fashion garments, which shed microplastics and last forever in landfills. Snack is quick to point out that she doesn’t judge folks for buying these yarns, and that, in fact, alternative natural fibers (which tend to be much more expensive) aren’t right for every level of weaver, or for every project.

“As you become more passionate about the practice, you’re better able to see the tactile

quality of synthetic versus natural and know when it’s appropriate to use what yarn,” she notes. “Like with fast fashion, if we just consume less in general, we can spend more to make one thing that will last for many years to come. And eventually when they’ve lived their lifespan, they can biodegrade.”

One sustainable fiber that Weaver House sells is kudzu yarn sourced from Laos. The plant, which is invasive here in the U.S. but native to Laos, is spun into shiny, thin, rope-

like fibers. Snack developed a special pattern for a woven table runner to introduce her students and customers to kudzu.

“It helped them be less intimidated to work with kudzu and now they want to use it in everything,” she says. “For me, this is a touchpoint for what could be possible in the U.S. for turning that invasive plant into something useful and regenerative.”

Mindfulness is part of everything that Weaver House does. Weaving is extremely time-consuming and slow-moving (it takes Snack, an expert weaver, over 10 hours to weave a scarf). But instead of the slowness being a frustration, she insists that it’s actually the best part.

“It’s therapeutic to be present with yourself and the loom. It creates a rhythm with your body almost like a dance, and when you embrace that rhythm it becomes a really beautiful practice.”

Nguyet Chau, a Philadelphia-based interior designer, has taken a number of weaving classes at Weaver House since June 2023. She sees weaving as an extension of her design work and is learning to produce custom fabrics to fulfill her customers’ desires for original, one-of-a-kind textile pieces for their homes. In addition to the pleasure of creativity, Chau agrees with Snack’s claim that the snail’s pace of weaving is its secret power.

“I’m a doer, so I’m constantly moving, and weaving forces you to slow down,” she says. “It’s so grounding to work with your hands.”

Chau has taken workshops with a range of Weaver House’s instructors and is blown away by the way the staff, particularly Snack, helps weaving feel less daunting.

“Rachel is an incredible human being and artist, but as an educator she is incomparable,” she says. “She’s so inspiring, supportive and patient, and is a visionary weaver. Weaving seems to many people like something your grandmother did, but Rachel revolutionized it to be for younger people.”

For Snack, everything at Weaver House, from the highest-level classes to the casual chats in the yarn shop, come back to fostering community.

“Weaving can be a solitary, isolating practice,” she says. “Being able to share and create dialogue in a place where you know everyone is obsessed with weaving is just really cool.” ◆

Rachel Snack teaches how to create fabric from fiber at her studio and shop Weaver House in the Bok Building.

The Cost of Color

Science History Institute exhibit explores the history and environmental impact of dyes

For thousands of years, people used organic materials like plants, insects and minerals to create dyes. But in 1856, an 18-year-old chemistry student named William Henry Perkin changed everything.

While attempting to create synthetic quinine using coal tar, Perkin accidentally developed mauveine, the world’s first synthetic dye. His invention of the rich purple hue unlocked a whole new universe of color — and a host of devastating consequences

BY JORDAN TEICHER

for the environment and human health. It’s a story that’s told in the compact but sweeping exhibition “BOLD: Color From Test Tube to Textile,” at the Science History Institute, which runs through August.

The story of those impacts, says curator Lisa Berry Drago, is one that chemical companies and textile manufacturers would rather conceal. But it must be told. Today, the fashion industry is responsible for 10% of greenhouse gas emissions and dyeing is one of the most toxic steps in the production of a

garment. To demand better of these industries, we first need to understand their flaws.

“We don’t know anything about the fibers. We don’t know anything about the colors. We don’t know much about the lives of the people who actually put our garments together,” Berry Drago says. “This show is not designed to make anybody feel guilty. Hopefully it makes people feel educated and motivated.”

Synthetic dyes, she says, have been a hit from the very beginning. Just five years after Perkin’s invention, mauveine was a global sensation and businesses took notice. The dye’s popularity ignited a “dye arms race,” particularly in Europe, and sparked the formation of new companies — including Bayer and Novartis — that would later become pharmaceutical powerhouses. After mauveine came fuschia, then alizarin crimson. “After that, every year there was a new color. And then every year there were five new ones. And then every year there were ten new ones. It was just exponential,” Berry Drago says.

With the explosive growth in synthetic dye development, she says, companies start-

Synthetic dyes have revolutionized the colors worn by people around the world — at a steep environmental cost.

ed adding color to a vast array of products. A display box from the American Aniline Products company in the exhibit shows the variety: match tips, plastics, anti-freeze, laundry bags, wood stains and more. “Once they figured out they could make these synthetic colors, they were putting them in everything,” says Berry Drago.

It was a double-edged sword. While synthetic dyes opened up new opportunities for self-expression, they came with a high cost for human health. Workers making synthetic dyes suffered high rates of cancer. Consumers suffered, too. Garments dyed with Paris green, a shade derived from arsenic in the late 1800s, caused rashes. In rooms where the dye was used on wallpaper, people became nauseous. Eventually, Paris green came off the market as a dye and was sold instead as rat poison under the same name.

Manufacturing synthetic dyes also poisoned the environment, as many Philadelphians could attest early on. Diagrams in the exhibit of Philly-area dyeworks, built as early as the 1860s, show just how many were located adjacent to rivers and creeks where companies disposed of bleaching agents, ammonia, soap and other waste products. “By 1900, they were seeing disappearing fish and waterfowl. They were seeing distortions of the smell and taste of the water,” she says.

As American regulators caught up with the industry, a lot of dye and textile production moved overseas, along with the accompanying environmental damage. Photographs from Xintang, China, in the exhibit show how synthetic indigo used to produce denim has turned local waterways blue.

Today, the U.S. is far from its heyday in textile manufacturing, but many in the tristate area are still dealing with the industry’s polluting legacy. The groundwater in Toms River, New Jersey, for instance, still has not recovered decades after executives from the Swiss firm Ciba-Geigy admitted dumping chemicals used in the production of dyes into local landfills and waterways. Cleanup there will take at least 20 to 30 more years.

It’s a sobering story, but Berry Drago says we’re not destined to keep repeating the same mistakes of the past century and a half. And we don’t have to renounce dyes entirely to envision a better system for pro-

We don’t know anything about the fibers. We don’t know anything about the colors. We don’t know much about the lives of the people who actually put our garments together.”

LISA

BERRY

DRAGO, Science History Institute curator

ducing garments. ”We’re not going to wear burlap sacks,” she says. “So much culture and personality is expressed through color.”

She also maintains that we don’t have to return to the pre-synthetic days. “Many of us tend to think that natural dyes are so much better for the environment. But they weren’t necessarily better from a land use perspective [or] from a labor standpoint,” she says. “There are ways that we can re-embrace natural dyeing. But we’re not going to go back to the 1800s.”

The end of the exhibit points to ways forward that are both high and low tech. It spotlights businesses like huue, a Californiabased startup producing bioengineered, low-impact indigo, and Green Matters

Natural Dye Company, a Lancaster County business using food waste such as avocado pits to make natural dyes. A backpack made from discarded denim by the Kenyan designer Mohamed Awale, meanwhile, shows

Although jeans are dyed by synthetic chemicals today, the expertise to process plant-based indigo came to North America from Africa via enslaved experts.

the environmental benefit of reducing the production of new garments altogether.

The news about fashion’s environmental impact has only gotten worse in recent years. According to McKinsey, the average consumer bought 60% more clothes in 2014 than in 2000, but kept each garment for half as long. Still, Berry Drago is encouraged by the increasingly abundant solutions to the problem of dye pollution and the growing number of people — from home dyers to entrepreneurs to activists — working toward a future where bold colors and a healthy planet can coexist.

“We’ve been lucky to connect to a whole community of people, particularly in Philadelphia, that are very invested in these things. There are people dedicating their entire lives to reducing fast fashion waste and educating consumers,” she says. “When I return to this work and the people that we’ve worked with, I feel very optimistic.” ◆

Repurpose Therapy

Fashion designer channels inner child for bold upcycled looks —

BY KIERSTEN ADAMS

Ashani Scales is the type to take the expression “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” to heart. In 2021, Scales went on a thrifting hunt for a quilted blanket she could turn into a coat. Having recently started sewing again, Scales was searching for soft, easy-to-manage fabrics that would keep her warm. After a trip to Jomar, she thought she found exactly what she was looking for: a warm green quilt large enough to be cut down and turned into something else — but instead, she wound up with a paw-printed dog cage cover she mistook for a heavy blanket.

At first she considered using the cover for her own dog, but unwilling to give up on her vision, Scales proceeded to repurpose the cover into a mid-length quilted coat with paw prints lining the inside. Her first real upcycled piece, and her most talked about design to date.

“A lot of people ask me about the coat, and they’re like, ‘How did you come up with that?’” Scales says. “Sometimes you don’t know that you’re being innovative until you get to a part where you’re stuck. It’s that part of creativity that’s kind of fire.”

Philadelphia-based clothing designer and artist Scales likes her work to start in the thrift store, like any great upcycler. In stores like Goodwill and Jomar that carry

gently-used clothing items for low prices, Scales yields to the interest of her inner child and shops for fabrics and materials she can repurpose.

Scales has been upcycling clothing since she was 11 years old, when she was given her first sewing machine by a neighbor. Growing up, Scales says when it came to clothes she always had everything she needed, but if she wanted more she’d have to get creative. Her curiosity for fashion led her to practicing with old jeans, which she cut up and turned into small tote bags.

Despite bad sewing and less-than-perfect stitching, Scales saw the endless possibilities of upcycling for herself and others in need of refreshed relationships with what they already owned.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Scales, locked in the house with nowhere to go and nothing but time, recommitted herself to her childhood dream of being a designer and began sewing again.

“My favorite part of upcycling is taking things apart [and] seeing what pieces I have before I can put them back together again. It’s really fulfilling,” says Scales.

Her upcycling and sewing has led her to creating costumes for children’s plays, participating in Philly Fashion Week, collaborating with fellow designer Taseen Abdulbarr, making a custom jacket for Philly rapper

Tierra Whack, and most recently, becoming a teaching artist with The Village of Arts and Humanities, where she’ll begin working with a cohort of 12 to 15 middle schoolers to create zero-waste tote bags from clothing scraps collected from the community.

As a designer, Scales’ work focuses on how we can collectively continue loving our old clothes made new through alterations and ingenuity.

“I want to be your clothing therapist. If you have something that you don’t like, let me change it, or let me help you fix it,” says Scales.

One of Scales most recent ‘therapy’ services was for her sister, Aaliyah Joiner. The two often worked together on upcycling entire outfits from used goods, but Joiner was adamant about having her sister create a pair of pants from a thrifted chartreuse blanket with thick fringes around the edges from a Goodwill store in New Jersey, purchased for $8. Joiner prompted her sister with a text that read “work your magic,” and from there Scales got to work.

“My sister has been really into fashion ever since I could remember. She can always make something out of nothing,” says Joiner. “She is my own personal seamstress, who could want more? I already have my next project in mind for her.”

Throughout her pieces Scales weaves

sentiment in her garments and stitches with the intent of creating something new from something used. Her work feels exciting at a time when what’s being churned out online and in stores is a result of unethical mass production in the fast fashion industry.

“I think that in a way the world can sometimes drive itself more on greed than ingenuity, and that’s kind of messed up,” says Scales. “Yes, there’s always going to be a demand for quicker, faster, but is the quality still going to be the same?”

According to ethicalconsumer org, the fast fashion industry is responsible for roughly 20% of industrial water pollution and 10% of total global carbon emissions. It thrives on the use of synthetic fibers like nylon and acrylic, which are processed petrochemicals. As criticism continues to mount, small upcycling clothing designers like Scales are the vanguard against fast fashion’s negative impact on the environment.

In Philadelphia, Scales has become synonymous with fashionable and sustainable wear, but that’s only an added bonus as to

I want to be your clothing therapist. If you have something that you don’t like, let me change it, or let me help you fix it.”

ASHANI SCALES

what drives her to slice up jeans and old blankets. Upcycling has been an outlet for getting in touch with that inner child still excited about finding new use for old jeans. It’s art therapy that allows Scales to unleash her creative ideas in constructive (and deconstructive) ways.

“I want to grow up and be the person that the kid who just started sewing could be proud of. And I think I work more and more every day to see myself as that kid again,” says Scales.

Across her Instagram page, @ashanii , Scales shares photos and videos of herself

repurposing kente cloth pants into twopiece outfits, and transforming Eagles jerseys and 76ers blankets into jackets and puffer coats. While some materials have proven to be tougher, stiffer and less pliable, Scales doesn’t shy away from what could be.

Scales hopes that from her work, fans of unique and often costume fashion will explore sustainable designers and brands local to Philadelphia, and that the upcycling community will only continue to shape, taper and grow. Leading the next generation of designers to look at something old and see only possibilities.

Ashani Scales transforms unlikely items — like a dog cage cover — into bold and unique fashion statements.

Events Calendar

MARCH 2

Remake x Drexel’s Retail & Design Club: Clothing Swap

Clean out your closet and bring your unwanted clothes to trade in the name of circular and sustainable fashion. It’s the perfect opportunity to refresh your wardrobe without spending a dime and promote eco-friendly practices in the fashion industry.

12:00 p.m. – 4:00 p.m., 3501 Market Street, Westphal Room 109. Cost: Free. remake.world/events

MARCH 3

Womynfest 24th Year

Womynsfest is the longest running free women’s festival in Philadelphia. A night of showcasing female artists from ages 5 to ninety nine. A five hour event of showcasing local artists in Philadelphia known and unknown.

7:00 p.m. – 11:00 p.m., The Rotunda. Cost: Free.

MARCH 5

Intro to Glowforge: Make a Custom Coaster

By now you’ve probably seen the commercials floating around about the Glowforge cutter/engraver machine and the amazing things it can do and create. In this certification class you will be sitting down with MakerSpace Manager Evan Ludwig to make a custom coaster.

6:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m., Utility Works. Cost: $30, Free for Utility Works members. utility.works/makerspace

MARCH 6

63rd Street Crosswalk Design Workshop

This Fall Amber Art and Design, Clean Air Council and Tiny WPA will be creating public art installations along 63rd Street and we need your help to inspire the

designs. Come and join us for an evening of creativity, story sharing and imagination as we collectively envision and design together.

5:30 p.m. – 7:30 p.m., Christy Recreation Center. Cost: Free. amberartanddesign.com

MARCH 6

Basketry Basics and Brews at Urban Village

Come on out for a lovely evening of learning and crafting with natural materials. This workshop will guide participants through the basics of making a simple basket with natural materials.

When: 6:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m., Urban Village Brewing Cost: $50. 4eee.org/coyotetracks.html

MARCH 7

The River Revisited: A Collaboration Between the Philadelphia Ballet and AAMP

Join Philadelphia Ballet, the African American Museum in Philadelphia and the Clef

Club for a panel and performance celebrating the work of Alvin Ailey, an American dance icon.

5:00 p.m. – 7:15 p.m., African American Museum in Philadelphia. Cost: $20.

MARCH 9

Late Winter Bird Walk

Enjoy a morning of guided birding in the Andorra Natural Area with birder Tony Croasdale.

9:30 a.m. – 11:00 a.m., Wissahickon Environmental Center. Cost: Free. facebook.com/WissahickonEC

MARCH 9

Mushroom Crafts with the Philly Mycology Club

Join us at the Community Clubhouse at FDR Park for some crocheting and crafting with long-time PMC member, Cassie. We welcome artists and aspiring artists alike.

11:00 a.m. – 2:00 p.m., FDR Park Community Clubhouse. Cost: Free. thecraftcoven.org

MARCH 12

Delaware River Environmental Justice Gathering

Join fellow community partners and environmental professionals working in the urban Delaware Estuary to share successes, discuss challenges and act toward environmental jus-

tice (includes breakfast and lunch).

9:00 a.m. – 4:00 p.m., Rutgers Camden Campus Center. Cost: Free. delawareestuary.org

MARCH 11 – 15

Energy Week at Penn Climate change and the move to greater environmental justice mean big changes for the energy sector. Get energized with a week of talks and workshops with experts such as climatologist Michael Mann. University of Pennsylvania. Cost: Free. energyweek.upenn.edu

MARCH 13

Gregory Blue and the Landscapes of Stroud Preserve

Studio Incamminati and Natural Lands invite you to an exciting exhibit of original art: Gregory Blue and the Landscapes of Stroud Preserve. This celebration will mark the commencement of the dazzling exhibit, which features 40+ works, inspired by Natural Lands’ Stroud Preserve, by artist Gregory Blue.

7:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m., Studio Incamminati. Cost: Free. natlands.org

MARCH 14 – 17

Greater Philly Yarn Crawl

The 2024 Greater Philly Yarn Crawl is our first-ever Philadelphia yarn crawl. A yarn crawl is an organized event giving fiber craft enthusiasts the opportunity to visit the local yarn shops in the area.

Yarn shops across Greater Philadelphia. Cost: $5.

phillyyarncrawl com

MARCH 14 – 17

Swedish Folk Weavings for Marriage, Carriage and Home 1750-1840 Preview Night

Join us for a sneak preview of Swedish Folk Weavings for Marriage, Carriage and Home. This exhibition features rare and artful cushions and bed covers woven by women for their dowries and households.

5:00 p.m. – 8:00 p.m., American Swedish Historical Museum. Cost: Free. americanswedish.org/

MARCH 22

Vision Zero PHL 2024

Traffic fatalities across the country have been on the rise, with pedestrians, cyclists and other vulnerable road users making up a higher percentage of victims than ever before. Bring your voice to Vision Zero PHL in 2024. The conference registration includes lunch.

9:00 a.m. – 4:00 p.m., Temple University Student Center South. Cost: $65. bicyclecoalition.org

MARCH 23

A Climate Conversation for Families: How to Go from Overwhelmed to Taking Action Together

Do you feel overwhelmed by the news about climate change? Do you talk to your kids about how they feel about it? Join us in Riverbend’s Snider Barn where you and your family will find a safe space to tackle these tough issues together.

12:00 p.m. – 1:00 p.m., Riverbend Environmental Education Center. Cost: $10. riverbendeec org

TOP MIND of

local businesses ready to serve

BOOK STORE

Books & Stuff

They can ban books in our libraries and schools, but they can’t ban the books in your home library. Grow your home library! Black woman-owned online shop for children, teens & adults. booksandstuff.info

COMPOSTING

Back to Earth Compost Crew

Residential curbside compost pick-up, commercial pick-up, five collection sites & compost education workshops. Montgomery County & parts of Chester County. First month free trial. backtoearthcompost.com

GROCERY

Kimberton Whole Foods

A family-owned and operated natural grocery store with seven locations in Southeastern PA, selling local, organic and sustainably-grown food for over thirty years. kimbertonwholefoods.com

the MINDFUL FASHION issue

SPANDEX

LINEN

Linen textiles are inherently sustainable, derived from the flax plant with minimal environmental impact. Linen cultivation requires less water and pesticides, making it a natural, biodegradable and eco-friendly choice in the textile industry.

WOOL

Large-scale wool production raises environmental concerns including overgrazing, land degradation, chemical use and methane emissions. Sustainable alternatives like ethical grazing and regenerative practices, address these issues.

2m ² Fabric: 4.5kg/ CO ₂ e

Spandex is an oil-based product and poses environmental challenges with energy-intensive processes. It is often blended with other materials, which reduce its potential to be recycled. Bio-based spandex, made from a material derived from corn, is an alternative on the horizon.

2m² Fabric: 13.89kg/CO ₂ e

SILK

Traditional silk textile production involves energy-intensive processes and often relies on unsustainable practices (sericulture). Sustainable alternatives, such as cruelty-free and eco-friendly silk production, aim to minimize environmental impact.

ACRYLIC

Acrylic textiles are often very a ordable and lightweight — the fast fashion sweet spot. But reliance on fossil fuels for raw materials, energy-intensive production and microfiber pollution are big environmental drawbacks.

2m² Fabric: 6.8kg/CO ₂ e

2m² Fabric: 7.63kg/CO ₂ e

Knit Picking

Fast fashion is inarguably one of humanity’s toughest problems to tackle. Underpaid and exploited workers, mountains of waste and an estimated 20% of the world’s wastewater — all the results of our seasonal buying and shedding of cheap clothing. According to the United Nations Alliance for Sustainable Fashion, the industry’s impact is somewhere between 8-10% of all global carbon emissions — more than international flights and maritime shipping combined.

So, are certain fibers better than others? Should we be avoiding buying clothing made of some fabrics? The environmental impacts of specific materials can vary based on production practices, processing methods, and regional factors. Generally speaking, natural fibers are less environmentally harmful than synthetics, and organic production is better than conventional methods. Here is a list of common materials and their characteristics.

2m² Fabric: 11.53kg/CO ₂ e

POLYESTER

Polyester is derived from fossil fuels and relies on energy-intensive processes that degrade our environment. Recycled polyester can help address these concerns, though any form of polyester contributes to microplastic pollution.

2m² Fabric: 7.2kg/CO ₂ e

NYLON

Nylon textiles, derived from fossil fuels, contribute to environmental issues through energy-intensive production and pollution. Recycled or bio-based nylon can mitigate this material’s impact.

COTTON

Conventional cotton production has significant environmental drawbacks, including pesticide use, water depletion and soil degradation. Sustainable alternatives such as organic cultivation help to mitigate these impacts.

2m² Fabric: 7.31kg/CO ₂ e

2m² Fabric: 8.3kg/CO ₂ e

Building bridges to reach people where they are

Lauren McGrath Instructor, MES

“Our work as conservationists, as researchers, as policy influencers doesn’t mean anything unless we can translate our work for a common lay audience,” says Lauren McGrath, instructor of the Master of Environmental Studies (MES) program course Creating Gateways to the Land with Smarter Conservation.

Lauren, a 2016 MES alumna, draws on her experience as the director of the Watershed Protection Program at the Willistown Conservation Trust to introduce students to the interdisciplinary field of conservation. “I try and expose students to the many different avenues that they can go down with their Penn graduate degree, shining a light into some obscure corners of conservation,” she says. Throughout the semester, students hear from expert guest lecturers, analyze readings, and participate in fieldwork, such as collecting and interpreting bioindicators in waterways or banding birds to track migration. Along the way, they learn that to have a meaningful impact in translational ecology, communication is key.

“We spend a lot of time in class discussing who the stakeholders are in our work as conservationists,” Lauren says. Landowners, community members, hunters and anglers, and policymakers can all be valuable ecological resources and partners— but may not all be using the same specialized language. To sharpen adaptive communication skills, Lauren includes coursework like writing assignments that must be stripped of academic jargon. Being inclusive, Lauren says, is productive. “It’s really about the bridge building that has to exist in conservation work in order for us to move forward at the pace that we need to in our rapidly changing world.”

To learn more about Lauren’s course in the MES program, visit:

www.upenn.edu/grid