Transcriber: Elizabeth Zielinska Reviewer: lisa thompson
The skin is the largest organ of the body,
constantly absorbing whatever it touches.
Our skin is like the earth itself.
It takes in whatever we give it.
It acts as a barrier
but also as a conduit for outside substances to enter into the body.
Did you know that when we step into the ocean,
our feet expand and swell
as the porous skin morphs to become better textured to climb over rocks
and also absorb the nutrients and minerals in them
and the seaweed that feeds on them?
There’s a branch of healing in India called Ayurvastra,
‘ayur’ meaning life and ‘vastra’ meaning dress.
It uses medicinal herbs like turmeric, cumin and hibiscus
to dye cloth so that the medicinal qualities
can be worn against and absorbed by the skin.
Samurai warriors were known for dipping their battle clothing in indigo,
whose antimicrobial properties would speed up the healing of wounds.
I’ve heard that geishas would carefully apply herbal powders
to their faces to keep their skin pure and clear.
In these land-based cultures,
there’s a sense of deep understanding that people had
with the natural plant world around them,
much deeper than we currently experience in our own post-industrial culture.
For all the so-called progress that’s come with industrialization,
we must also acknowledge a huge loss.
We’ve lost that sense of connection between our inner and outer worlds
in both a physical and a spiritual sense,
an embodied connection to nature.
If we understand our skin as capable of receiving the goodness of the earth,
then we should also be aware that it can similarly be polluted.
Many toxins and chemicals in the clothing we buy in the high street
are assimilated into the body through the skin.
Around 8000 synthetic chemicals are used
in the fashion, textiles, and footwear industry
to process and manufacture raw materials into fiber and fabric.
Non-organic fiber farming for crops like cotton
use harsh chemicals on the land,
such as phosphorus- and nitrogen-based fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides.
Dyes, bleaches and finishing agents are caustic,
burning exposed skin,
damaging eyes and air passages,
causing skin disorders like eczema, psoriasis,
internal cell mutations and breathing difficulties in asthma.
Serious skin and breathing health issues
are common in industrial textile facilities around the world,
and cancer is endemic in fiber farmers using spray glyphosate to grow crops.
And it’s not just the workers in the factories and farms
who are impacted.
The toxic substances leach out beyond the physical boundaries
into the wider supply chain,
to our high streets,
our wardrobes,
and ultimately touches our skin.
Effluents are dumped in rivers,
eroding the skin of amphibians and fish
and infiltrate into all waterways,
streams, lakes and our own drinking water.
The rivers lead out to seas and oceans,
impacting marine life
and wrapping our living blue planet in polluted water.
Our skin is as alive as the earth itself,
this vast organism that takes in wherever we give it.
We must radically think differently
about what we place on our skin and on the earth.
Most clothing bought on the high street
is made with petrochemical fibers such as polyester
and dyed with petrochemical or coal tar-derived dyes.
All of these affect the endocrine system, our hormone system,
and can create degenerative illnesses, chronic illnesses like cancer in the body.
The blue dye that rubs off your new pair of jeans is likely an azo dye.
Azo dyes are the most common form of dye used in textile production.
They release cancer-causing chemicals called amines,
as well as other toxic substances, such as formaldehyde and cyanide
and large quantities of petrol.
These clothes are popular because they’re affordable,
but they are anything but cheap.
Did you know that the oil industry
only functions
because of our government subsidies paid with our tax money?
So how do we progress to this place in time
with all our sophisticated technological advancements
into such a mass-produced global toxic mess?
Traditional plant and craft knowledge has been lost from our culture
over such a long period of time and at many various different stages.
To name a few, the Roman invasion four thousand years ago
wiped out most of our indigenous, pagan and Celtic traditions,
replacing them with their own Christian belief system.
The witch trials in the 1600s massacred 200,000 wise women
who held herbal knowledge in communities
and would also have been the natural dyers.
Then the first synthetic chemical dyes were discovered
concurrently with the beginnings of the Industrial Revolution.
In 1856, William Perkin discovered
the first synthetic chemical dye, mauveine.
Whilst researching and developing a cure for malaria,
he accidentally discovered the color purple
in a lab explosion which left sticky, purple, coal tar deposits
on the surfaces and walls.
Realizing the color could be replicated to scale,
patented and sold to the textile industry, he saw a way of replacing
the slow and labor-intensive old natural dye processes being used.
This initiated a gold rush moment of scientists setting up color labs
to create lucrative new colors.
Rivers across the world turned purple and blue
as we entered into a chemical era of highly toxic, brightly colored fashion.
Only now we are able to see and fully comprehend the impact of this movement.
There were voices of wise dissent amidst the clamor for quicker and more.
William Morris was one of the last industrial producers
to champion the use of natural dyes,
along with having a deep appreciation of nature
and creativity as a means for connecting to natural environments.
The fact is that every one of these dyes is hideous within itself,
whereas the old colors are within themselves beautiful.
“Only extreme perversity could make an ugly color out of them,”
William Morris.
As we’ve drifted away from our relationship to the local plants,
so has our connection to our own bodies
and the earth that supports us.
It’s now normal to wear toxic plastic clothing.
Many of us do not give it a thought.
Women actually apply 168 chemicals to their bodies each day on average.
Chemicals we wouldn’t put into our mouths
we put on and wear against our skin.
We dress our children in them.
We exercise in them.
We even do supposedly spiritually connected activities, like yoga, in them.
I want you to look down at what you’re wearing.
Have you given much thought to how your clothes are made
or what they’re made of, the shirt on your back,
the shoes on your feet?
Have you ever questioned if they’re good for you,
or for the people that made them,
or for the earth?
Cheap clothes cost more than we can begin to imagine:
not just taxpayer support of oil, not just taxpayer support of oil extraction,
not just polluted rivers and exploited workers,
but something much closer to home,
our collective home,
your bodily home.
Our very connection to the earth and to our own skin has been lost.
Natural dyes are free of toxic synthetic contaminants and irritants.
They’re safe to make, use, wear and biodegrade back into the soil.
A whole rainbow of incredible colors can be made with them.
In fact, the original pride flag was made with natural dyes.
Natural dyes contain hundreds of different pigments within one dye color,
giving them a depth and a radiance,
unlike synthetic Pantone colors,
which just contain one or two single pigments within one color
and can appear flat and incongruous next to each other.
Place any two natural dyes next to each other,
and they’ll always blend and sit well next to each other.
Natural dye is taken from the landscape we dwell within,
can be a way of relating to it and connecting to it,
a kind of natural camouflage that helps us to blend in and to belong.
I really enjoy the soft, muted tones
of the dye plants that we get here where we live.
The dusty pinks, yellowy greens, sky blue and earthy tones,
which all speak to me of the soft and gentle landscape
that is the British Isles:
the soft rolling hills,
gentle meadows, woodlands and moorlands.
Our food and clothing are our most direct contact
to the natural world that we live in and are a part of.
We take food into our bodies every day,
several times a day,
and we’re increasingly aware of the need to eat wholesome food
with no additives in.
Clothing should be no different.
We wear cloth against our skin every day.
Surely it’s time we made better choices about what that cloth is made of.
For the past decade, I’ve been transitioning my wardrobe
to being composed of all-natural dyes and natural fibers,
as locally sourced as possible and free of synthetic contaminants.
It feels good for the clothes I wear
to support the intention that I have
of how I choose to live in connection with nature
and in playing a role in restoring ecological systems,
an outer skin that connects my own to the world around me,
a second skin
and a conduit for connection.
I’ve become increasingly interested in the herbal properties
of the dyes that I work with
and how to work with them intentionally
to bring more depth and meaning to my practice.
Rose, the lover you always dreamed of,
heartening, heart-opening, loyal, loving, tender, kind,
and so soft and gentle on sensitive skin.
Marigolds, an upward shining light, impossibly joyful, light-hearted
and full of cheer.
Calendula, dahlia, viola
can all even heal the wounds caused by our unnatural productions.
Eczema, psoriasis, rashes and inflammation can all be soothed
and brought back into balance.
I take satisfaction in growing and harvesting my own colors,
observing a plant through each season
and cultivating a relationship to the plant in its place.
I source local, unbleached wools, silks, linens and hemp.
And I choose dye plants intentionally to imbue meaning into my clothing.
I notice how different clothes make me feel:
warm, cozy, protected,
sensual, feminine, loose, free, uninhibited.
Working with local fiber farmers,
dye growers and artisans has allowed me to develop a sense of connection
to my local community and landscape.
Building relationships and working together,
combining skills
to create whole, finished garments for the wider community
feels deeply satisfying and rewarding.
Knowing that the way we bring things into being has a positive impact
makes all of the difference.
Would you consider wearing flower dyes in your clothes, rather than petrol?
How might that feel
to be conscious of it when you dress
and undress each day and as you move through your day?
Begin with your skin,
this remarkable organ that holds you together.
Ask what ingredients things are made of and how they are made.
Invest in systems that you wish to see more of in the world
and be a stand for their existence.
Begin by reclaiming our faded knowledge
and make getting dressed in the morning a moment of activism
that both heals and delights.
Your clothes don’t have to cost the earth.
Buy and make clothes that are good for your body and good for the earth.
(Applause)