Tips for a Life Less Plastic

In the fall of my freshman year of college, I was enrolled in a wonderful English class called American Dreams. We discussed a variety of issues, from the suburbs to music to consumption to security to environmentalism, reading articles and excerpts to supplement each topic. The one that stuck with me most was called Polymers Are Forever, written by Alan Weisman. In it, Weisman discusses the origins of plastic, its ever-expanding place in human consumption, and its environmental consequences, including the North-Pacific Gyre, the largest mass of garbage in the world. I definitely recommend reading this article. It is eye-opening.

Plastic is by no means an enemy. Without plastic, the computer I'm typing this entry on wouldn't exist and we wouldn't have great cheap, reusable, break-proof, flexible, heat resistant, water resistant, tarnish resistant, great plastic products. We'd be chopping down more trees, mining more metals, etc. The enemy here is disposable plastic: grocery bags, packaging waste, etc. As Weisman addresses in his article, plastic doesn't biodegrade like most of the other things we throw away. Even "biodegradable" plastic only does so in very specific conditions, none of which are found in landfills or the ocean. So here are a few ways I've been trying to reduce plastic (and other) waste.

First on the list is one in Weisman's article. If you still haven't stopped using commercial body wash, face scrub, or exfoliants, check the ingredients for "polyethylene." Some such products use all natural exfoliants—seeds, salts, sugars, ground up shells—but the ones that don't use tiny, tiny plastic beads, which drain directly into sewers and waterways, ie. ecosystems. Most plastics are at least wrangled into landfills before blowing off into the environment. These beads go there directly. There are plenty of natural exfoliants: oatmeal, baking soda, brown sugar, salt; the list goes on. Ditch the product with plastic beads. (And throw it away, don't drain it.)

Other common disposable plastics are saran wrap, ziplock bags, and other disposable means of food storage. If you use a ziplock bag, try to wash and reuse it. Avoid saran wrap by using reusable containers like tupperware, jars, or even by putting a plate over a bowl instead of wrapping it in plastic.

Try to reduce packaging waste by buying products that aren't individually packaged. This applies to packaging materials other than plastic too. For example, buying loose leaf tea instead of individually wrapped tea bags with staples, strings, and tags, or using a French press to make coffee instead of buying filters for one-time use and disposal. Granola bars, biscotti, Life Savers: these are but a few examples of products with individual plastic wrapping that I see from where I am sitting in my family's kitchen.

Buy things in bulk whenever possible. (Check this shit out. This is what every grocery store in my utopian dream world looks like. That blog, which I was reminded of when I typed this entry title, is a great place if you're interested in the environmental aspect of a blog like this.) I'm fortunate enough to live in a town with a local dairy where you buy milk in glass bottles and take the bottles back when you're done. Take advantage of establishments like this when possible. Everything you pull off the shelf at the store, think about the waste that results once you've had your way with it. Can it be reused? Composted? Recycled? Even if you don't go zero-waste, being conscious of the remains of your consumer choices will help reduce your impact on the environment.

The thing that made me sit down and type this up right now was doing the dishes with a scrubbie dishcloth that I just crocheted out of cotton yarn instead of using the clean and firm plastic sponge that just replaced the dirty, limp, empty husk of a sponge we just threw away. A cotton dishcloth or scrubber is machine washable and will probably outlive a plastic sponge. And when it comes time to retire it, less worry about its particles lasting forever. If you don't knit or crochet, you probably have a friend who does. If you don't have a crafty friend, a dishcloth is a perfect place to start learning how to do it yourself.

Use a bar of soap instead of buying liquid soap in a plastic container with a plastic plunger whose reuse requires a large plastic bottle if you do make the choice to refill it. Reuse that empty deodorant stick by filling it with your homemade deodorant. Buy a box of baking soda (cardboard box!) and a bulk container of shea butter instead of over packaged face wash, exfoliant, toner, and moisturizer. Get a box of corn starch (paper bag in a cardboard box!) instead of plastic bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Buy a dental floss that's actually made of waxed floss and not plastic.

Use a reusable mug instead of the paper cup, cardboard sleeve, and plastic lid you get at the coffee shop. I don't care that the cup and sleeve are made out of 100% post-consumer recycled materials. It doesn't change the fact that your actions could leave them 100% out of the trash.

Take canvas bags to the grocery store, and if you forget them and end up with plastic bags, reuse the ones you can. Use grocery-sized plastic bags for trash instead of those big ones that will let you throw away gallons of stuff before you have to face the voluminous results of your waste. If the bags are holy, ripped up, or otherwise unusable, take them back to the store for recycling.

Be creative with things that could easily become trash. Make a planter out of an empty plastic bottle or milk carton. Make compost out of food scraps. Make yarn out of the hair your pet sheds (if you're feeling creative and unusually resilient to disgust and scorn). Visit some DIY sites like Instructables for inspiration or just do a Google search if you're looking for ideas.

Come up with techniques of your own following the basic guidelines of REDUCE, REUSE, RECYCLE. Think about them as first, second, and third resorts in that order. Because if you think about it, recycling is only environmentally friendly compared to throwing something into a landfill. If you can keep something from entering your front door, awesome. If you can keep it from leaving your house in a trash can by making it into something useful, fun, or cute, good. If you can send it away to get processed into something else, okay, fine. But be conscious of what ends up in the trash and creative about keeping things out of it.

Whether you decide to keep shaving or not...

Unlike the earth-child you'd think would be responsible for a blog like this, I take time and money to keep unwanted body hair in check. Since I don't wear shorts or sleeveless shirts frequently and don't have a luvah to impress, I don't shave as regularly as some, but it's still a grooming routine that seems unnecessarily expensive and wasteful. I've been using a Venus razor since middle school and have always wondered why the replaceable razor heads are so damned pricey. If it was just about money, finding a cheaper disposable alternative wouldn't be hard. But disposables are wasteful, whether you're throwing away the razor head or the entire razor every time the blades get dull.

One of my new year's resolutions was to eliminate plastic disposables from my life, so I've been thinking about buying a safety razor for a while. Safety razors, which replaced the straight razor of Sweeny Todd fame, will give you a much closer shave than disposables and are cheaper long-term. (You may be as interested as I was to know that King C. Gilette's innovation of the disposable razor inspired a fascinating business model. Also, if you're having trouble visualizing what a safety razor looks like, here's the one I just ordered and a Google image search.) Like a menstrual cup, the initial investment is more expensive (anywhere from $20 up), but considering the price I'm paying for Venus razor heads, it will pay for itself after a while and, with proper care, can last a lifetime. The only thing that you throw away with a safety razor is the dulled, double-edge razor, which I imagine you can sharpen if you want to get the most out of it. It might even be recyclable in some places.

Recently, an even cheaper, less wasteful alternative called sugaring has caught my attention. The principle is similar to waxing and the results last just as long, but you can make the "wax" with household ingredients: sugar, lemon juice, and water. Cheap, water soluble, and safe to put down the drain or in a compost pit. Unlike wax, the sugar mixture doesn't stick to your skin and will hurt less and cause minimal damage to your epidermis. It's recommended that your hair be at least 1/2" for this method to be effective, which means that you'll need to suffer through a brief werewolf period, but it's cheap and you can do it easily with access to a stovetop. I don't have 1/2" leg hair, a stovetop, sugar, or lemon juice, but once I get those things, I will definitely give sugaring a try. Shaving has always caused issues with my skin, so it'll be fun to compare the results.

If you have the necessary ingredients and are ready to try, do a Google search for "sugaring" to find loads of websites with recipes and instructions and let me know how it goes.

Cold Showers: Not as bad as you think.

I was reading about natural shampoos and remembered later that someone had mentioned cold showers in passing. Out of curiosity, I did a Google search, which is what first led me to EarthClinic.

While the thought of showering with cold water was really unattractive initially, I read up on some of the benefits. Cold showers, unlike warm ones, encourage your body to produce its own heat and improve blood circulation, especially to the skin. It is more energizing than a warm shower, although a lot of people reported that they were sleeping better after switching to cold showers. Some people have reported that rashes and other skin issues went away after switching to cold showers. Others claimed that it improved their immune systems. The most fascinating reports were from people who suffer from depression and anxiety who say that a cold shower works more effectively and instantaneously than any drugs they've been prescribed. It seems like cold showers do have an effect on your nervous system and brain chemicals. Not heating the water reduces your carbon footprint and you're less likely to veg out and waste water with a cold shower. Not heating the water also reduces your utility bill.

In the experimental spirit that has taken over my life, I decided to give cold showers a try. I have really bad circulation, some skin problems, and have been known to get a little anxious from time to time. It was shocking initially; occasionally, my body was forced to take really deep breaths. It was unpleasantly cold, but with a little bit of time and massaging, it became less uncomfortable. I stayed in for about ten minutes, doing my "no 'poo" experiments and washing.

The thing I liked most about the cold shower experience was getting out, but not for the reason you think. When you get out of a relaxing, warm shower, the warm water on your body cools while the warm stuff evaporates and the vapors around you condensate. Something like that. It's cold is what I'm trying to say. You rush to towel yourself off and get into some warm clothes. When I get out of a cold shower, I was toasty warm. I dried off slowly and comfortably and put on my robe, which was quickly filled with the heat radiating from my body. Your shower has to be longer than three minutes for this warming to take effect because it has a lot to do with improved circulation.

I won't be continuing with exclusively cold showers because my new, water-only, hair washing method calls for temperature changes. I've also read that a lot of people just end their warm showers with a few cold minutes for the benefits of circulation and skin, which is what this "no 'poo" method calls for as well. I have a feeling that transitioning from warm to cold will be more difficult than taking the plunge, but I'll report back in more detail once I've tried.

COLD SHOWERS SHOULD NOT BE TAKEN IF YOU'RE MENSTRUATING OR SICK. A cold shower is dangerous when your body is weakened. If you decide to take a cold shower, start by exposing your extremities to the temperature before getting to your core. Sudden temperature changes to your core can be dangerous like hypothermia. I start with my feet and legs while I brush my teeth and follow with my wrists (exposed circulation points) before taking the plunge.

Face Care Simplified

Facial care products cater to a vast array of specific consumer needs: sensitive skin, anti-wrinkle, acne reducing, pore refining; the list goes on. I was yet to find a commercial product that works for me and, as my cleansers, washes, toners, creams, and ointments were getting down to their last few applications, I dreaded going shopping for a new series of expensive products, which were likely to leave me disappointed again.

My skin is fairly unusual. I have really defined pores, which mean chicken-skin spots on my arms and legs, and clogged pores, blackheads, whiteheads, zits, and general roughness on my face. Until recently, I was buying anti-acne products thinking that the cause of my skin problems was primarily chemical rather than physical: bacteria, hormones, grease production, what have you. But I've realized, years of unsolved skin and hundreds of dollars later, that it's more about the size of my pores and their tendency to get clogged with dirt, debris, oils, etc. I was investigating pore-refining washes, toners, and moisturizers before my "no 'poo" adventure led me to EarthClinic, where I have been reading about the many, many uses of simple household products to cure various ailments.

I still don't understand how exactly the site is organized. It's driven largely by user input and you can browse it by looking for a certain ingredient or a specific ailment. Some pages have concrete information published by the site; others are just compilations of people's experiences, experiments, successes, and failures.

In any case, I've found a few tricks for facial care, all of which I tried today.

The first is using baking soda as a face wash. It removes facial grease and exfoliates gently. I used really warm water to rinse and thoroughly wet my face in hopes that open pores would react more effectively to washing. I made a small mound of baking soda in one of my palms, added enough water to make it into a paste, and massaged it into my skin. Keep it off your lips if you don't want to taste baking soda afterward and don't get it too close to your eyes. When you feel sufficiently exfoliated, rinse it off. I noticed a significant difference in my skin after one wash: my pores looked smaller and my face felt smoother.

Another thing that acne-prone people recommend washing your face with is honey. You might wonder "how the hell," but it ended up being less messy than I expected. You can either dilute it a little with warm water, rub it all over your face, and rinse it off, or you can apply a thin layer over your whole face, leave it on for ten minutes, and wash it off with warm water. I tried the latter, and not only was it the most delicious facial mask I've ever used, but it washed off really easily. Honey is naturally antibacterial and antiseptic, which presumably prevents acne. It is relatively acidic, which might balance the effects of the baking soda a little. Aside from these characteristics, I have no idea what the benefits are. After the honey mask though, my skin continued to feel good.

In the massive list of uses for apple cider vinegar, I found a lot of people using it as a toner and taking it internally, which benefits your skin as well as other functions and organs. I took my first two doses of apple cider vinegar today (one tablespoon of vinegar diluted in two cups of water. I add a spoonful of honey to improve the taste.) and applied undiluted apple cider vinegar to the acne prone areas of my face—cheeks, forehead, temples, and jawline—with a cotton swab. It burned initially but the unpleasant sensation went away after a few minutes. If it's too abrasive, you can water it down. People claim that they apply apple cider vinegar to zits before going to sleep and wake up to find them gone without a trace. We'll see how that goes.

These processes can be pretty drying, but no more than their commercial counterparts. I'm waiting for a pound of shea butter to arrive in the mail, which I bought for my lips but is a good natural moisturizer for faces, especially for people with acne problems. Until then, I might use some commercial moisturizers that I have left over.

It's awesome when your all-natural cosmetic ingredients are cheap and come in bulk. I bought a four pound box of baking soda for $2.79 and a gallon of apple cider vinegar for $3.99 today. These are going to last me a while and I can use them to solve an endless variety of problems. Bath scum? Not a problem. Yeast infection? How about a vinegar douche. (That takes a brave and desperate woman.) Heartburn? Don't mind if I do. High cholesterol? Hit me with the ACV.

A Life Without Shampoo: Introduction

The decision to try to live without shampoo was the only one so far that I didn't find on the internet. It is also the decision that led to my current attempts to eliminate other commercial cosmetic products from my routine, which in turn inspired me to launch this blog. My muses in this effort were two male friends of mine who, I recently found out, are fully adapted to "no 'poo" lifestyles. (It's an unfortunate name, I know.) Their hair is soft, beautiful, healthy, and clean. You would never suspect that they haven't used shampoo in months.

While most people's initial reactions are of disgust and disbelief, the concept makes sense with a little thought. Using shampoo daily, as most Americans do, strips your hair of its natural oils (known less pleasantly as sebum) and, in an attempt to maintain a balance, your body compensates by producing tons. Your hair gets greasy, so you wash it again. Rinse, repeat. This vicious cycle is one that shampoo manufacturers have decided to take advantage of. Selling shampoo also means selling conditioner. Convincing consumers that they need to wash their hair daily to smell and look good means selling more of both products. This is another example of a product that doesn't seem like a financial drain but that you will spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars on in a lifetime.

The truth is, you don't need shampoo. Even if you think you do, you definitely don't need to use it daily. Shampoo as we know it didn't exist until the 1930s. It is a glorified soap that has been formulated to smell flowery, lather like a detergent, and rinse easily out of hair. A recent story on NPR put it nicely into historical perspective. In 1900, it was normal for women to wash their hair once a month. Ten years later, the New York Times published a column saying that it was okay (meaning they could, not that they should) for women to wash their hair once every two weeks. But even today, most Italians and Spaniards only wash their hair two to three times a week. Dematologists and stylists agree that shampooing your hair more than that is not good for your scalp or your hair.

Add to this that shampoos come in plastic bottles and contain all sorts of chemicals that you don't want in your body or in the environment. Bank/Earth/Self. Get it?

I have had a fairly tumultuous relationship with my hair. It is fine but thick, voluminous, and wavy. It's gone from shoulder-length to layered short to military sheared to long, longer, longer still to bob to mohawk and back to layered short. It's been bleached and dyed almost every color of the rainbow. The haircut I have now—which I got by pointing to a picture of Rihanna in a crappy fashion magazine and telling the stylist that I want it to actually be short—is the first haircut that I've been really happy with. In terms of bathing and shampooing, I realize in retrospect that I didn't start showering and shampooing daily until my junior year in high school. And since then, not surprisingly, it seems like my hair gets greasier much faster than it ever used to.

Adapting to a "no 'poo" lifestyle is something that a lot of people give up before reaching their goal. Since the glands in your scalp are used to overproducing sebum that you would usually wash away with shampoo, most people experience what "no 'pooers" refer to as a "detox" period, which is just a loaded name for a transition period. During this time, which seems to vary from person to person, your hair is greasy and unattractive. People formulate different methods to keep it from smelling, from getting overly greasy or dry, and it seems as though there's a lot of trial-and-error before a miraculous and natural balance is established on your head. But people who've made it work promise that your hair will feel and look great if you can tolerate this gross period.

At the date of this posting, I have gone a week and two days without shampoo. I was on spring break when this all started. Since my last shampoo two Tuesdays ago, I have experimented a little with the standard washing and conditioning method that you'll find all over "no 'poo" discussion boards: washing with diluted baking soda and rinsing with diluted apple cider vinegar (both in a ratio of one tablespoon to a cup of water). My hair was incredibly greasy by the time I got my hands on some baking soda three days after shampooing. I got into the shower, wet my hair, massaged the diluted baking soda into my scalp, rinsed it off, and followed with diluted rice vinegar, which was the only kind we had around. My hair felt great when each ingredient was in it, but when I rinsed them out, my hair became a wet, sticky, mat. I was worried that the process hadn't done anything. But once my hair air-dried completely, I realized both the baking soda and vinegar had done their duty. My hair was softer and fluffier than it ever was after being shampooed.

But this was only the beginning. Reading extensively about issues people were having with "no 'poo," I braced myself for battle. I returned to school two days after my initial baking soda, vinegar wash, carrying a sandwich baggie of baking soda. I worked in the dining hall on Monday evening and decided to wash my hair after the shift. It was far less greasy than it had become in the days after my final shampoo. I didn't have any vinegar, so I just used the baking soda. As expected, the results weren't as spectacular as they were with vinegar on a really greasy head. Rather than looking soft and fluffy, it looked weighed down and felt like it was covered with a waxy residue. I did the same thing on Wednesday with similar results.

Today, I finally got a chance to bike down to the grocery and pick up a big box of baking soda, a gallon of apple cider vinegar—which has a ton of other uses that I'll get to in another post—and lots of other heavy stuff. I was sweaty and gross after my strenuous bike ride back, so I figured it'd be an opportunity to try again with the vinegar rinse. The waxy residue is less extreme but didn't really go away.

Since being a little disappointed by what I expected to be a vinegar miracle, I've been looking around on the "no 'poo" LiveJournal community and now think that transitioning from shampoo to baking soda and vinegar to water-only rather than just dropping everything at once seems to only prolongs the process. People who have successfully transitioned to water only do occasional salt or baking soda washes and conditioning rinses depending on the state of their hair but don't have regular washes or rinses. Rather than changing things chemically, water-only washers do a lot of brushing, combing, and massaging, to physically distribute oils from root to shaft. They also use changes in water temperature to help alleviate greasiness and waxiness, which is something I've been playing around with anyway. (Again, for another post.)

Now that I think about it, my two muses didn't bother with baking soda, vinegar, tea, and other things. They just tolerated the greasiness while it lasted and celebrated when it was gone. I'm going to do some investigation of specifics and will report back.

This is much more complicated and experimental than anything else I'm attempting. I will be posting updates for a while.

The Cup That Started It All

This post will benefit ladies only. If you don't have a vagina but have a lady-friend with menstrual problems, I invite you to read on.

People don't generally make small talk about how they deal with the menstrual menace. It is, after all, an unsavory topic. For generations, mothers and older sisters have quietly instructed blossoming young ladies about how to deal with this monthly occurrence. Typically, these instructions come with a sack of sanitary pads or a box of tampons. When my thirteen-year-old uterus decided it was ready to make babies, I was directed towards pads by an aunt, used them for a while, and then out of curiosity decided to give tampons a try. Unfortunately, a single attempt triggered my first wave of menstrual cramps. The whole experience turned me back to pads, which, as many people know have problems of their own: leaks, smells, discomfort, etc.

During my senior year of high school, I stumbled upon a LiveJournal community dedicated to menstrual cups. I looked at the websites of four-or-so menstrual cup manufacturers and found all sorts of reasons to buy one. On average, a woman spends upwards of $50 on feminine hygiene products per year for approximately forty years. At around $30, a menstrual cup pays for itself in less than a year. The ones made of medical-grade silicone are non-porous, meaning they won't harbor bacteria or viruses and can be sanitized by boiling. Tampons and pads are made of synthetic materials that will never, ever decompose, and contain chemicals that you don't want in and around your vag-hole or in landfills and water systems. So not only is a menstrual cup a money-saver, it is also better for your body and for the environment. Here are some visual comparisons (from the manufacturers of the Keeper), and a comparison chart and compelling advertisement (from the manufacturers of the Miacup). None of the data seems to match up, but you get the idea.

How do these things work? The bell-shaped cup is "folded," inserted into the vag-hole and pops open and into place just beyond the pelvic bone–the ridge at the front of the vaginal canal. (Here's a diagram.) Since the cup isn't absorbent like a tampon, it can be safely worn when you're anticipating your period but not actually menstruating, which takes away the anxiety of being unprepared for blood; say, in an airplane, on a dinner date, or at a concert. And when you start menstruating, you empty the cup as often as you need to by pulling it out, dumping the contents into the toilet, rinsing or wiping it off, and reinserting it. I have never had to empty my cup more than three times in one day. The only guideline that manufacturers give is to not leave it in for more than twelve hours, only because you'll forget where you put it if you do. Silicone softens as it warms, so when it's inserted properly, you can't feel the cup and you're free to swim, do extreme sports, go camping, and travel far and wide without wasting space in your suitcase.

The downside? I could tell by a lot of the posts in the LiveJournal community that using the menstrual cup takes a lot of patience and effort to get used to. It's especially hard for people who aren't familiar with their own genitals, but if that's the case, it gives you an opportunity to familiarize yourself. Women who made it work were confident that they would never go back to pre-cup products and routines.

I decided to buy the DivaCup—a silicone cup manufactured in Canada that seemed to be getting good reviews—the summer before I went to college. It definitely took a few cycles to find a method that worked well for me, but practice and patience were key. The LiveJournal provided a lot of helpful advice. Proper insertion was the hardest part of the process to master. Sometimes the top of the cup doesn't open fully. Other times, the cup creates a vacuum. When it doesn't work, you just have to take it out and try again. But remember, you can practice even if you're not menstruating.

The trick with insertion is finding the right folding technique. The fold you choose changes the ease of insertion and expansion once it's inserted. This illustrated page of various folding techniques is probably the most useful post in the entire LiveJournal menstrual cup community. I use the origami fold, inserting the cup with the folded side down/back and it usually works on the first try.

I haven't completely eliminated other feminine hygiene products from my life. For the first few days of each period, I us a panty liner for back-up. It adds up to about three panty liners a month: No big deal. If you're feeling more extreme, you can buy or make a few washable liners. I haven't ventured into that territory... yet.

An important thing to consider when deciding what menstrual cup to buy: Some cups, like the Keeper, are made of natural gum rubber. Natural rubber (latex) is a porous material and can harbor bacteria and viruses. They can increase the likelihood of yeast infections and other nasty thangs in your 'tang. There are also people with latex allergies. As a general rule, when it comes to genitals, always go with non-porous materials like silicone or, in other situaitons, glass and metal.

Also, some manufacturers will allow you to return the product within a certain time frame. The DivaCup used to have a policy like this, but doesn't any more. The manufacturers of Miacup, however, will let you return a cup bought on their website within six months if you decide a cup isn't working for you.

I got my period on vacation last winter when I wasn't expecting it and had to spend two days without my menstrual cup. It was hell. I had forgotten how much of a hassle menstruating is without my money-saving, environmentally friendly pal.

I highly recommend giving menstrual cups a chance and making this investment for the sake of your wallet, the environment, and most importantly, your own comfort and well-being.