The economics of color in local culture

I’ve been reading a bit more on distributism at The Distributist Review. This quote captured my attention last night:

Local production for local consumption is a policy enabling the flow of an extensive variety of goods and services created by and sustaining the very community that makes them.

Mass production makes for very little local color. Everywhere, America ends up looking the same. Local culture looks like the variety of goods and service created by the locals. A Grand Island, Nebraska craftsman might use a different lumber, different joinery and different finish — in response to the land and weather around him – than one in Tennesee. Objects coming out of a factory respond to one thing by comparison: Market potential.

Haven’t we been here before, Rocky?

Over-eager adopters of newness and supposed goodness

An article I read this morning made me think of something I posted about a month ago:

It never ceases to amaze me how we’re such eager adopters of new technology ideas that we don’t stop and consider the ramifications of what we adopt — like 90% of soybean farmers planting one genetically modified soybean seed.

I eat locally when I can because, in general, the food is better and I have a better idea of where it came from. There are people who’ve made eating locally a religion, though, apparently in part because they think it a more environmentally friendly lifestyle. Writing for the New York Times, Stephen Budiansky informs us that’s bogus in a little article called Math Lessons for Locavores. “The local food movement now threatens to devolve into another one of those self-indulgent — and self-defeating — do-gooder dogmas,” he claims.

Budiansky enjoys eating from his own garden nine months out of the year, but he breaks the energy consumption of foods down for us into layman’s terms. Locavorism has apparently entered pharisaical levels of legalism, resulting in “all kinds of absurdities. For instance, it is sinful in New York City to buy a tomato grown in a California field because of the energy spent to truck it across the country; it is virtuous to buy one grown in a lavishly heated greenhouse in, say, the Hudson Valley.”

According to Budiansky’s math, driving to the grocery store and then refrigerating your loot consume most of the energy that goes into our food production, even if we can brag about our Energy Star appliances. The diesel fuel to truck or train it across the country uses little energy by comparison.

Guess we have to find another way to boost our own self-esteem.

Why I root for the little guy in an industrialized society

I’ve been watching a few odds and ends in the Netflix instant watch queue this week [no] thanks to being too sick to climb up and down a ladder with a brush in hand. Just finished the documentary called Food, Inc.

The only way this really relates to this blog is that the documentary is about the industrialization of the food supply, and industrialization (or mass-production) is a recurring theme on The Aesthetic Elevator. It’s interesting to me mainly because I live largely on the opposite end of the spectrum, spending a lot of time creating one-of-a-kind objects, and because it never ceases to amaze me how we’re such eager adopters of new technology that we don’t stop and consider the ramifications of what we adopt — like 90% of soybean farmers planting one genetically modified soybean seed.

The film makes certain accusations against certain companies, and in the case of at least one company whose website I visited they attempted to refute those accusations. I’m generally very skeptical when it comes to such giant bureaucracies in the first place — they’ve largely earned the distrust I have for them.

One of the examples in Food, Inc. talks about chicken farming. Northwest Arkansas, our former stomping ground, is all about growing chickens. The parents of a friend had land with three or four chicken houses. They recently sold the place on account of the exact same complications described in Food, Inc. My friend who shared with me — about four years ago now — how the contracts with companies such as Tyson work could have been in the film. The farmers end up more like indentured servants than independent contractors.

Why should I accept the refutations of the companies in the film when I’ve seen first hand the claims of the film? I don’t want to be the kind of person that has a knee-jerk reaction to every bureaucracy, but they just keep shooting themselves in the foot.

Eyeglass Aesthetics: Jewelry for your face

When I was in tenth grade, or thereabouts, things started getting blurry.

I’ve worn glasses since eleventh grade, and I actually like wearing them — unless I’m playing Ultimate Frisbee or photographer. Eyeglasses are face jewelry, and I wish I could afford a new pair every six months, just for fun. Three things, in my opinion, make (or break) a good pair of frames.

The Face: Different people, believe it or not, have different faces. Some are square, some are round and some are light-bulb shaped like my own. Not ever pair of frames works on every face. For instance long faces, like my own, can very rarely pull of a round frame. Better suited to such light-bulb countenances are a wider design, something oval or rectangular.

prodesign-denmark
A hot pair of specs from ProDesign:Denmark

The Frame: Don’t be afraid to show off a little frame. I walk into the local post office with some regularity. I recognize all of the clerks when I go in, and immediately took note of one’s new specs. They were wild — and gorgeous — and I made a point of saying how much I liked them. She replied by saying that they were way more risky than her usual conservative self. She went for them anyway, and it paid off. Seek out good design, of which there is an abundance in frame design if you know where to look, and find something that pops! If you have to wear glasses in the first place, don’t pick something that’s going to pretend to be invisible on your face. Use it as an opportunity to save the world.

Proportions: Keep in mind proportion (in all things, not just eyeglasses), both of the frame to the surface of its lens and the eyeglasses as a whole to the size of your own head. All of a sudden aviator glasses are back in style, especially for sunglasses. All of a sudden aviators are back in style. The original 1937 design was fairly innocuous, but I’ve seen some modern takes on that classic design that are more like windshields on a person’s face than sunglasses. I begin to wonder where the windshield wipers are and if I should look out for errant sprays of blue washer fluid. Not only is this potentially problematic in how much glass is covering up a person’s eyes — and eyebrows, and cheeks, and ears and . . . — but the amount of frame to lens is enervating.

The kicker here is that good frames aren’t cheap. In fact, their prices often seem more a little outrageous for something so small and pretty darn simple. I’ve found some very good deals on Ebay in the past on unique frames, and in years past I actually bought a pair of reading glasses that I had Walmart put lenses in.

But you get what you pay for generally. The reading glasses fell apart almost immediately, and the two frames I bought off of Ebay never fit very well. The Ebay sellers did provide measurements, but only trying a particular frame on will tell you whether or not it’s comfortable. Further, Walmart doubled its cost for lenses a couple years ago.

My last pair, a Bellagio design, I bought from a stellar local place called Childers. They purposefully carry very unique frames (in light of which it’s hard to believe they’re still in business here in Siloam Springs) and the customer service is great. Not only that, the cost of their lenses was half of Walmart’s new price.

There are a lot of internet outlets offering deals on frames and even lenses anymore. However, I’d encourage you to look into local businesses that will give you what you pay for, in service and design.

And remember to show off a little frame.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 34 other followers