Tanwi Nandini Islam Writes.

The Hustle / Foraging in Forest Park

Tue, 22 Jul 2014 19:47:58 -0400

The cool recesses of Forest Park, the third largest park in Queens, were a welcome respite on a sweltering June day. Ava Chin was clearly prepared for foraging: sun hat, cool bottle of Pellegrino, long pants. I arrived waterless and wearing shorts.

At least I had my sunglasses.

Chin and I made our way from the train station toward the park. En route, she stopped and pointed to a green weed bursting from the concrete.

“Looks like someone spray painted them,” I said, pointing to the white powdery center of the plant.

“That’s actually characteristic of lambs quarters,” said Chin. “They’re even healthier for you than spinach.”

We strode past the children’s playground and crossed the entrance to the Jackie Robinson Parkway to enter the heart of Forest Park. Finally, the name of these urban woods resonated. A canopy of century-old walnut, oak and dogwood trees enveloped us in their shade. Some trees were marked with an X, or had branches sawed off—most likely to abate the danger of crashing limbs post Hurricane Sandy. Wild sorrel imparted a tart, lemony zest on the tongue. Juicy blackberries sprouted along the path, ready for picking. Red wine berries were not yet ready for tasting, their protective prickly sheaths in place until August.

Chin’s book, Eating Wildly: Foraging for Life, Love and the Perfect Meal (Simon and Schuster, 2014), “is an exploration of my life, foraging, love, things that were lost and ultimately found,” said Chin. “I was raised in Flushing, Queens, raised by a single mother and loving Chinese grandparents. It was my grandparents’ copious amount of food they provided that helped me to feel more at home in the world.”

It’s a common misperception, Chin reiterated, that foraging has “hipster” or classist associations.

What Chin described as “the wound left behind” by her absent father, was filled by the marvels beneath her feet, growing all over the city. The edible and medicinal properties of the plants we encountered trace their roots way beyond the current media trend of foragers stocking the kitchens of five star restaurants.

It’s a common misperception, Chin reiterated, that foraging has “hipster” or classist associations. “I see Chinese grandmother types who are foraging for gingko nuts in the fall. In the summertime…foraging for mugwort to use for moxa, for burning in traditional Chinese medicine,” said Chin. “I see Eastern European mushroom hunters, who are hunting for mushrooms that most American mushroom hunters would consider inedible. They’re able to render the mushrooms into something tasty.”

Foraging has been a way for Chin to discover nature in the city that has been home to her family for generations. These days, she’ll take her toddler daughter Mei on excursions to continue the tradition.

6 Must-Read Entrepreneurship Tips from Alice & Whittles Co-Founder Sofi Khwaja

Tue, 22 Jul 2014 17:32:00 -0400

ALICE & WHITTLES sounds like the name of a whimsical pair in search of adventure, doesn’t it? We’re excited to debut the brand as Ethica’s first shoe line. These aren’t just any shoes, though. These are espadrilles, famously favored by the likes of Salvador Dali and Pablo Picasso. It’s small wonder why, since the artistic simplicity of an espadrille—it’s made of canvas, jute and rubber—is a welcome comfort for doing just about anything, especially traveling.

After launching via a hugely successful Kickstarter campaign in April 2013, Alice & Whittles continues to forge ahead with its model of sustainable production. So how exactly do you turn a passion for ethical fashion–or for anything, really–into a business? We caught up with co-founder Sofi Khwaja to ask her about what it takes to build a socially responsible company.

1. Connect the dots between so-called disconnected parts of your life—you might find you’re actually working toward your true calling.

Sofi says: “My partner Nick and I were working with the United Nations Refugee Agency in Tunisia, shortly after the revolution. I’m also a lawyer. After years in the system, trying to clean up pieces of a mess that’s made over and over again, we started asking ourselves, ‘Is this the right way to affect massive issues of poverty?’ We thought about what industries had the potential to balance the inequities of the world. Clothing is a human necessity. Economically, production takes place in regions that are unregulated, affecting billions of garment workers around the world.”

2. Make something that fills a gap in the market. Something that you’d love to wear yourself.

Sofi says: “We traveled a lot for work. 90 percent of what was in our suitcase was clothing. We thought about the items you could take to India and on vacation in St. Tropez. We came up with espadrilles. We wanted to make amazing, high-quality espadrilles that are beautifully crafted by the people of a region, and give back to those people at the same time.”

3. Freaking out about the competition? Don’t. Because you can do it better.

Sofi says: “Tom’s One for One model, which gives a pair of shoes to a child in need for every pair purchased, might have brilliant marketing behind it. But a company like Tom’s is missing the point. The truth is, mass-production on this scale isn’t sustainable. If you’re using exploitative labor, it doesn’t discount the negative impact you’re having. The charity model doesn’t work. It’s killing economies—basically you’re dumping all these free shoes in local communities. Now where are all the local shoemakers going to go?”

4. Do extensive research and tap into local know-how.

Sofi says: “We decided to go to the country that has the longest legacy in the garment industry: India. We spoke to policy makers, factory workers and slum garment factory owners. Then we decided to think outside of the box within the textiles world. We landed on a rural NGO, Khamir, which works to preserve the cultural ecology of the Kutch region of Gujarat. We work with brilliant people doing extraordinary things. We chose Kutch because we wanted canvas, and this region’s cotton was perfect. The artisans had the knowledge of the material we wanted to use, because the same canvas was used to make tarps in their farming communities.”

5. Practice what you preach.

Sofi says: “We provide fair trade for the labor behind Alice & Whittles. We give our artisan workers advance payment, health insurance, training, and there’s a commitment to full transparency about our business. From the organic cotton farmers’ seeds to the hand-weavers who make our shoes—we’re sticking to the principles we believe in. We’re not trying to make people feel guilty about what they buy, we’re trying to make a product that’s about workmanship, craftsmanship and quality. We want the shoes to be affordable and facilitate change on a grassroots level.”

6. Remember: Sacrifices can lead to the unexpected.

Sofi says: “Alice & Whittles is our baby, a reflection of both Nick and me. We don’t have anyone else but ourselves to do this. It’s our insides, our livelihood. Even for our wedding, we kept it very small because we spent that money on getting our business together.

Fear holds people back, and I had to shake off my ego and go against the grain of the family and culture I grew up in. But after I told my mother I was leaving the U.N. for fashion, she went upstairs to get a massive binder. In it was a coat of arms contract for my great-grandfather’s company, Alison & Co. They made clothes for the Raj, and the name was derived from the British mispronunciation of Ali & Son. We came up with the name as a play on Alison & Co. and Whittles, Nick’s mother’s family name. There’s so much love here, it’s so very meaningful to us. This is the best decision I ever made.”

- See more at: http://www.shopethica.com/features/interview-alice-and-whittles-sofi-khwaja#sthash.I2rlLzAB.dpuf

Textiles and Tropical Getaways: Interview with Sheena Sood, Abacaxi NYC

Tue, 22 Jul 2014 17:31:00 -0400

Studio Visit: Abacaxi Designer Sheena Sood

True to her label’s “urban-island aesthetic,” ABACAXI founder Sheena Sood’s home studio is an oasis in the middle of Brooklyn. Lavender walls, Indian embroidered pillows and neon Guatemalan throws reveal Sood’s love of travel, color and indigenous textiles. For her clothing line, which is made locally in New York, Sood sources traditional fabrics from artisan communities in India, then remixes classic pieces like saree blouses into edgy leather crop tops. All around her studio, you’ll find pineapple paraphernalia gifted by friends. These are little reminders of the vision behind Abacaxi, which means pineapple in Portuguese and “channels the tropics–the sun, surf, and lush flora and fauna.” We caught up with the newest member of the Ethica family to discuss her design inspirations and sneak a peek at her colorful digs.

There’s such a playful, eclectic vibe to Abacaxi. When did you get into fashion design? I always had an interest in textiles and patterns. Even from a young age, I always used to draw. I went to Brown and studied art, but my paintings involved a lot of fabric, embroidery and beading, which led me into textile design. I did a course in London at Central Saint Martin’s in textile design, where I learned how to weave and print by hand. I moved to New York knowing I wanted to work in fashion, and eventually I got a job at Tracy Reese as an assistant designer.

Working for Tracy Reese is a huge step for a young designer! Yes, I was never trained in fashion design, draping, patternmaking and all of that.

When did you decide it was time to do your own thing? After I left Tracy Reese, I went to India for three months. I just needed a break. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do when I came back, but as I was traveling in Rajasthan, I started collecting these embroideries that I just loved–vintages pieces from old kurtas. I probably had 20 or 25 when I came back. I had the opportunity to create my first capsule collection for a store locally, and I went for it. Each piece in the first capsule is one-of-a-kind, because I used those embroideries.

What challenges are young designers are facing nowadays? It doesn’t seem easy to strike out on your own. One thing that’s tough is that here in in New York the market is so inundated. I think a lot of stores are bombarded with a million young designers–there’s just too much. Unless you know the right people, it’s hard to breaking into stores. [At this stage], I want to continue to grow the brand, find the right retailers and hire a team. Right now, it’s just me. I want to be able to focus on design and production. From my first capsule to the latest collection, there’s definitely been a growth. I’m learning as I go along, about fit, what fabric is best to use. I want to continue to make each collection better than the last.

Do you gravitate toward certain aesthetics? All around your studio and in your collection, there’s so much of the “cosmopolitan, well-traveled woman” look you’ve cultivated. I’m obsessed with color. I love all colors. From season to season, the colors will always change in my collections—that’s something I’m always paying attention to. In terms of pattern, I’m also really inspired travel. I speak Spanish fluently and love traveling to Latin America. I just love the tropics. Right now I’ve used a lot of traditional Indian fabric, woven and embroidered, but I’d like to eventually work with artisans not just in India but around the world.

Is it hard to recreate these traditional Indian embroidered textiles? Your capsule collection repurposed vintage embroideries, but now you’re designing new ones. Shrujan, the Indian artisan NGO in Bhuj, Gujurat has been really good to work with. Their artisans can recreate the [vintage] embroidery. I draw a design and they send it to a bunch of artisans they work with.

How does sustainability factor into your work? All of my stuff is manufactured here in New York City’s Garment Center. That’s something I’ve been conscious about and would like to continue doing. The fabrics will change from season to season, but there’s definitely a focus on natural fibers like silk and cotton, and of course, a focus on sustainably sourced fabrics.

You’ve got women artisans crafting the textiles and New York Garment workers sewing the pieces. Who’s the woman you envision wearing your clothes? I’ve designed these collections to be very wearable. The focus is really on the textiles. She’s someone who has an interest in textiles, color and pattern. She likes clothes that are flattering, but she’s adventurous and likes to be a little seductive.

Abacaxi FW14 Launch NYC runway image by Udor Photography, courtesy of Abacaxi.

- See more at: http://www.shopethica.com/features/studio-visit-sheena-sood-abacaxi#sthash.JSKXA7Yh.dpuf

This Q&A first appeared on Ethica: http://www.shopethica.com/features/studio-visit-sheena-sood-abacaxi

Inside a Bangladeshi Garment Factory

Tue, 22 Jul 2014 17:29:00 -0400

April 24^th marks the one-year anniversary of the deadliest garment industry accident in human history—the collapse of Rana Plaza in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Watching the horror unfold, by way graphic, heartbreaking photographs, made me rethink everything I think about Bangladesh’s robust garments economy, and my own relationship to fashion. For many of us, buying fast fashion is an easy way to look good for less, do a little retail therapy without breaking the bank.

Yet, after Rana Plaza, we had a lot of hard thinking to do. How could we possibly worry about the value of our clothes, when such a glaring disregard for the value of human life happened? Made in Bangladesh, a phrase that should be a source of pride, of economic growth, has now become cause for a collective shudder. In the face of rubble and death, the resounding aftermath has been a call to unionize, compensate and ensure workplace safety.

Western brands’ connection to the tragedy was inextricable. To date, many of the retailers who were producing their garments at Rana Plaza have deposited a mere $17 million of the pledged $40 million relief fund aka The Arrangement, to pay medical bills and lost wages to the survivors and families of the dead. Brands that have yet to pay the full-pledged amount include: The Children’s Place, Walmart and JC Penney.

Just a year later, and it seems as though Western interest is already diminishing.

This March, I had the chance to visit a garment factory in Badda, a neighborhood in Dhaka, which felt more like a strip of nondescript businesses, rather than a garment industry zone, like Savar, where Rana Plaza had stood. I had little idea what to expect. Images of destruction, underage child labor and dilapidated structures are what we imagine— like Rana Plaza or the burnt remains of Tazreen.

Along with my sister and the head of operations, a man named Suleiman who reminded us of a Bangladeshi Chris Farley, we took a tour of the nine-story garment factory. We entered a loading dock, where a group of men listened to the radio, waiting for the next shipment of fabric to come in. Just to the right of the freight elevator, we saw a childcare room, with a simple assortment of toys and toddler chairs, and no children. (It certainly seemed like a bad idea to leave a child downstairs right by the freight elevator and building’s entrance…).

Suleiman led us through the maze that is his factory, with a sense of pride in their standards of compliance. We entered a darkened room, where huge bolts of fabric, imported from India and China, were stored.

Kohl’s Inspection Room read the sign on the door. I remembered that Kohl’s is one of the companies that refused to sign The Accord, a European agreement that legally binds retailers “to establish a fire and building safety program in Bangladesh for a period of five years.” Many brands, including H&M, as well as some U.S. retailers like Abercrombie & Fitch, Sean John Apparel, and Scoop NYC have signed The Accord. Companies who have signed this measure are signing on to ensure workplace safety and accountability.

Kohl’s, as well as Gap and Walmart, have instead created The Alliance, a group of North American companies. Why did they opt out of The Accord? The European agreement features a binding arbitration process, which means companies may be legally tried in their homes courts if they fail to deliver on their terms. There are no binding terms for The Alliance, and the responsibility is up to factory owners to fix their workplaces. If owners don’t do their part, they will lose the company’s business.

The Arrangement, The Accord and The Alliance all sound like post-apocalyptic factions, rather than real organizing for change.

Suleiman led us upstairs to the fabric inspection room, where a male worker ran the bolt of fabric through a machine to catch any irregularities or tears. The sound of fabric weaving through the machine is almost meditative, and like every worker in the factory, this young man must own his sole production task. Throughout our walk in the factory, each person’s role is intrinsic to the making of each and every shirt.

There’s the fabric-cutter, who wears a protective glove reminiscent of Michael Jackson, or the collar-maker, who pricks the pointy-ends of a collar to make them sharp. Most everyone seated at a sewing machine wears a mini-surgical mask for their nose, to prevent loose threads from flying in. There is a vivid strangeness to the whole scene. All of the women wear brightly colored salwaar kameez, and saris—florals, polka dots, batik—the pure opposite of the boring sleeveless shirts they make for their buyers. One or two workers smile at us, and we wave. Yet most cannot look up from what they are doing because a misstep means a lost shirt.

And we weren’t allowed to pull them aside to ask questions.

Suleiman took us through the making of one sleeveless button-down shirt, which he later gave us at the end. He held up one worker’s task—attaching the collar—for our examination.

“See?” he said, holding up the shirt. “I feel proud, when I see this—this is made in Bangladesh.” He gestured to the empty aisle between sewing stations, the path covered with arrows moving in one direction. “See? This is compliance. No one can stand in these rows. If there is a fire, they must follow this path to exit.”

“How much do your workers make per month?” I asked.

“We pay them 11,000 taka/month,” says Suleiman.

I do a quick calculation, that’s about $141/month. Divided by 30 days, 11 hours a day, that’s about 42 cents per hour. My sister and I share a glance. From a few conversations with friends and family, the average domestic worker in Bangladesh, who cooks, cleans, raises children and supports the very basis of middle and upper-class life in urban Bangladesh, makes about $2K-$4K/month. As evident from Bangladeshi photographer Jannatul Mawa’s series on domestic workers and their bosses, they remain separate from the families they work for. Within Bangladesh’s social and economic class context—the garment industry has been a boon for young female workers who want to earn more than work formerly available to them.

Right? As we walk up to the final stage of production, where hundreds of shirts hang on racks, waiting to be steamed, we pass by a film crew and a man furiously blasting a fire hose outside of the window.

“What’s he doing?”

“We’re making a fire safety video for our buyers.”

“Ah, so you have sprinklers?” I ask.

“Oh, no, not yet. We are working on that.”

While I learned a lot about a factory attempting to be compliant in a post-Rana Plaza garment industry, there is still much work to be done. In a country of 154.7 million people, living in land the size of Wisconsin, we know change will not happen overnight, but we have to continue to put pressure on retailers to not back down on workplace safety. In retrospect, I’m wondering if the lack of sprinklers would’ve been solved had Kohl’s been a part of The Accord. If legally bound to reckon with infrastructure issues, I want to believe that workplace safety could become a reality in Bangladesh.

The garment industry has transformed Bangladesh’s economy, and it’s worth making the industry a fair, safe and empowering space for Bangladeshi workers. The answer lies in change, not in shutting down factories.

So, what can we do from here? I’ve joined this collective of activists and artists of Bangladeshi descent to organize an action in front of three locations: Union Square in New York City (6pm) and Diversity Plaza in Jackson Heights, Queens (8pm) to commemorate the workers who died, and the survivors who rebuild their lives after trauma. We will shout for Western companies to take responsibility for compliance and workplace safety. We will raise placards etched with phrases like, “Who are You Wearing?” and photographs of the dead and the living. And we will light candles, holding vigil for the changes we demand, until they burn out.

For more information about April 24th Rana Plaza actions in your city, check out the International Labor Rights Forum: http://www.laborrights.org/events

This article first appeared on Ethica: http://www.shopethica.com/features/remembering-rana-plaza

Those American Apparel Ads are Shilling Poverty, Not Porn

Thu, 03 Apr 2014 20:11:00 -0400

Featured on Elle.com:

Those American Apparel Ads Are Shilling Poverty, Not Porn

Your Brain Turns Me On: How Important is Intellect to Sexual Desire?

Fri, 13 Dec 2013 21:55:39 -0500

We’ve all known lovers skilled in the bedroom that can’t engage in philosophical conversation.Intellectual stimulation does wonders for stirring up intrigue, but how important is a potential mate’s intellect to our sexual desire? Great conversations might lead to a midnight foray, but could someone’s braininess outweigh other factors, like physical attraction?

Just how important is how smart someone thinks you are?

"I used to feel an intellectual connection was key to sexual desire but I’ve recently learned that it doesn’t have to be," says Rumana, 32, a newly single lawyer living in Brooklyn. "I’ve gone out a few times with a guy who’s not really my ‘type.’ He’s sweet, direct, light, easy. There’s almost zero intellectual connection."

Read the rest on Jezebel’s Groupthink

Hyphen Mag: Leave Lorde and Her Boo Alone

Fri, 13 Dec 2013 21:53:45 -0500

Whenever someone crosses that sad pissing circle drawn around male celebrity, especially in music, there’s always a backlash. Now, I’m too old to really give a damn, but in this case, I’ll pipe up. Lorde, the New Zealand wunderkind who released her debut Pure Heroine this year, with smash-hit single “Royals,” is caught in a crosshairs for doing the unthinkable:

Dating an Asian guy.

Read the rest at Hyphen Magazine

Elle.com: Why We Need a Muslim American Superhero

Thu, 07 Nov 2013 19:37:00 -0500

I admit: I’m a lightweight comic book geek. I was always down for X-Men, Batman and Wonder Woman. I just watched The Wolverine and Man of Steel* on an ultra-long international flight. My biggest gripe (don’t worry it wasn’t Henry Cavill)? Every story revolves around white men saving the world. So, when I heard that Marvel Comics’ new series, Ms. Marvel, features a 16-year-old Pakistani-American Muslim superhero, I was elated.

In the series, set to debut February 2014, Kamala Khan, a 16-year-old from Jersey discovers her latent superpowers—she shape-shifts—setting in motion her meteoric transformation into Ms. Marvel.

At the heart of it though, she’s just a regular teenager, right?

Hyphen Mag: In Search of Soulful Outer Space with Kan Wakan's Kristianne Bautista

Thu, 07 Nov 2013 11:41:01 -0500

Photo Credit: Luis Ruiz, of Larufoto

As the new Music Editor of Hyphen Magazine, I’ll be curating a space for amazing new Asian American artists! Please check out my first piece!

Kristianne Bautista, lead vocalist of the rising indie band Kan Wakan, has a sugar and smoke voice backed by a haunting orchestral ensemble.Signed to the renowned major label Verve Music Group, (home to heavy-hitters like Yuna and Alice Coltrane), this L.A.-based band’s trance-inducing strings make for an epic listening experience. They weave elements of Americana, psychedelia and post-rock, recalling the likes of Phillip Glass, Etta James and Moondog. I caught up with the songstress at the band’s center during the band’s debut CMJ performance in NYC.

“Kan Wakan is derived from the Tagalog word kalawakan, a loose term for atmosphere, space,” says Bautista. “Two of us in the band, [Bautista and bassist Ian Anderson] are Filipino. [The word Kalawakan is] vague, but it means something really big.” As she speaks, she lightly pulls on an American Spirit, readying her voice for the night’s show. She emanates a shy, 90s teen-dream vibe. Every now and again, she smiles warmly.

Check it out on Hyphen.com

Elle.com: 7 Designers to Watch from Lagos' Emerging Fashion Scene

Tue, 05 Nov 2013 17:05:14 -0500

Lagos, Nigeria’s cultural capital and city of 21 million people, might not be the most obvious site for a runway show, let alone a week devoted to fashion. The city is known for its oil reserves, sure, but fashion? Increasingly, the answer is yes.

Read more: 7 Designers to Watch from Lagos’ Emerging Fashion Scene - ELLE
Follow us: @ElleMagazine on Twitter | ellemagazine on Facebook
Visit us at ELLE.com

The Feminist Wire: "What the Fashion World's Minstrel Shows Mean for Real African Designers."

Thu, 31 Oct 2013 00:00:00 -0400

Every Halloween season, a new crop of blackface horror stories appears in the news. Word of Saturday night’s annualHallowood “Disco Africa” themed party in Milan has caught fire, attended by the likes of Stefano Gabbana, designer Allesandro Dell’Acqua, and model Anna Dello Russo dressed in tasteless garb involving blackface, suits in leopard print, tiger, and ornate feathered headdresses. As far as I could tell from Instagram, one of the few black attendees came dressed as a tiger, seemingly because all the white attendees were dressed as black caricatures.

I’m as outraged as anyone seeing such flagrant displays of racist imagery, especially among those considered the apex of fashion. Remember, this isn’t the first time Dolce & Gabbana has gotten flack for racism—last year’s SS 2013 Collection was a full on display of Mammy-inspired prints, famously boycotted by Azealia Banks.

AFROPUNK.COM: Afropunk, Afrochic: 6 Designers from Lagos Fashion & Design Week

Wed, 30 Oct 2013 14:40:52 -0400

Afropunk’s second style house might be in Lagos, with looks that easily cross continents and streets. Last week, I hit up Lagos Fashion & Design Week (LFDW) to celebrate its 3rd installment with a crop of hot designers in African fashion. Set up in makeshift tents along the beach, Lagos’ freshest designers showed their threads for Spring/Summer 2014— a bright mix of traditional prints, Ankara and dapper menswear. With the lack of diversity throughout the world’s fashion weeks, seeing this dreamy—downright stunning—crew of all-Black models was a rad experience.

By Tanwi Nandini Islam, AFROPUNK Contributor

Check these six designers from LFDW:

1. Orange Culture

This was among the strongest lines to show at LFDW. Besides the fun Dr. Seuss makeup, the structured lines and layers make it wearable for many seasons—whether you’re in the sultry heat of Lagos or spending fall in Brooklyn. The designer is 23-year-old Adebayo Oke-Lawal, who has his tribe of fashion devotees that love his modern take on indigenous textiles. The Orange Culture philosophy is simple: “Orange Culture is more than a line; it’s a movement. A movement for men and women who don’t allow clothes determine who they are.” Follow @TheOrangeNerd