Project 3/50 and Project 95

I've been meaning to note a couple of interesting local-economy initiatives. I think a lot of the "buy local" talk is oversimplified -- trade has been going on since humans began, and international trade is not new. But massive multinational corporations at the scale of Wal-Mart and Pepsi and many others takes us beyond trade to a frightening level of control and ownership, and that's why it's smart to return to an awareness of supporting local businesses.

I like the 3/50 Project, which asks participants to spend $50 each at 3 locally-owned brick-and-mortar businesses each month. If you can't spend $50, well, whatever you can; I think consciousness is the point. This came naturally last month; I supported my beloved auto care shop,woman-owned and locally-owned Hoshi Motors; my hair salon, owned by a very nice man named Paul; and a local store with a phenomenal inventory of ribbons, beads and some very fancy fabric. Not bad, considering that I have been doing very little shopping for quite some time now.

Then there's Project 95, subtitled Fabric Shoppers Unite. According to their totally unattributed statistic (really, it's so much more meaningful when we know where the numbers come from), 95 percent of fabric purchases are made at chain stores -- Joann's, Hancock, Michael's and Hobby Lobby, I presume, are the leaders.

In theory I support this 100 percent. In practice, the only local fabric store that remains within 25 miles of me seems to have an institutional policy of condescension and rudeness to customers that has simply exhausted my good intentions over the years. I rarely go there, and I rarely buy garment-sewing fabric anymore -- online buying is challenging. And when it comes to notions and patterns, no question, I go where the bargains are. For fabric, I would definitely spend money at the local store if it were a pleasant place to go. And sadly, my lovely local quilt shop closed a few months ago.

Beyond the nice round numbers and sound-bite missions, can these projects make a difference? Well, yes they can. Grassroots movements are incredibly powerful. As noted, though, they only work if there are alternatives to chain stores, and in the fabric world, we haven't really made those alternatives viable. I have a dear friend who created and owned one of the world's best fabric shops here back in the early 1990s; she worked hard at it but couldn't make a living. When she had her going-out-of-business sale, the vultures descended, of course. Today, more sophisticated in our understanding of marketing and trends, we might say she was undercapitalized, or her timing was off, or whatever --  but it was a big loss to the creative community here. And to me.

Where do you shop? I know many of my readers use unique ethnic textiles or repurposed fabrics, or are lucky to live near a great fabric shop. We are only as good as our tools and supplies, but we also do find ways to be resourceful.

Disturbing but not surprising: Rob Walker notes in his Murketing column that Americans average 20 square feet of retail space per person, versus European countries that top out at 3 per person.

Comments

[Kim Hambric]

I mail order almost all of my fabric from EQuilter. The variety is huge. We do have one SMALL quilt store about 20 miles away. They are helpful and friendly, but the inventory is just way too small. I might go in and purchase a handful of different fabrics, but I can't go in looking for something specific -- there is just too little there for that.

We do have a Jo -Ann fabric store. I will only go in if I absolutely have too. They are rude and the store is depressing. I also purchase my thread online so I can avoid going there.

Mail order definitely has its downside -- you can't match anything to the computer screen. I do dye and paint much of my fabric these days and carve my own stamps for simple prints.

Basically, I've learned to live with fewer choices.

[Heather]

I stopped buying cloth from fabric stores a couple of years ago. A rare exception was some silk devore from Stone Mountain Daughter in Berkeley when I visited last year - that is an incredible fabric store with great mail order service - you call and tell them what you're looking for, and they send samples. http://www.stonemountainfabric.com/
Tons of ethnic and luxury fabrics, as well as some really great bargains.

Most of my cloth comes from a pretty unique source - I have a friend in Japan who often visits the temple markets and gets rolls of old kimono fabric for me. The wool cloth is an exceptional bargain as the people there don't really wear wool kimono anymore.

[K-eM]

I try to shop at a locally owned fabric shop, but they went through a "rude" phase which made it a chore for awhile and now it's hard to find what I'm looking for. I realize they have to carry what sells, but its frustrating. Beyond that, some great local sources of textiles is the thrift store and garage sales. You do have to be open to whatever you find, but I've actually found fabric in yardage and have even recycled the fabric from garments, curtains... for new garments.

[jude]

this post is so key to enhancing the shopping experience as well. there is so much value to this movement.

[Kim]

Elaine-
As a former fabric shop owner, your comments resonate with me. I remember when there were many local shops to choose from. Now even the beautiful ones in the big cities have folded.

Your friend might have made a go of her shop if she had added a sewing machine dealership. That is where the profit is.

[Phyllis]

This last statistic is so alarming. Why, as Americans are we such consumers? What is the mentality that prompts this kind of spending? I am not sure. It would be fascinating to explore this further.

I would rather buy old textiles rather than new. That said, I will only go to local fabric shops when I want to buy something newer. The quality is better, and definitely the service. I also know many of these women are supporting families, and they need a loyal clientele to survive. It is too bad your local fabric shop has a reputation for being difficult to its customers.