Translator: Sebastian Betti
This thing I brought is a bag of sand, a classic bag.
We see it on the sidewalks and construction works.
It’s one of the thousands bags dumped by the oil companies
in the Vaca Muerta oil field,
used in unconventional oil extraction,
in fracking, a way to break the ground.
Where others see garbage, I see raw material.
I’m Ornella Basilotta, hacker of the fashion industry.
What do we imagine when we hear the term hacker?
A mysterious person trying to break into a system,
typing unbreakable codes.
I thought the same.
And when we say innovation, what comes to mind?
Robots.
Technology and computers.
What if I tell you that hacking is innovating?
Can you imagine how?
There are different types of hackers.
The white hat hackers,
hackers with an ethical profile.
They use their skills for projects that do good to society.
There is also the black hat hackers,
which are the opposite,
they use their knowledge for personal gain, with bad intentions.
And the gray hat hackers, a hybrid case between whites and blacks,
having no bad intentions, but working in gray areas.
Psychologist Edward DeBono wrote a book titled Six Thinking Hats.
Each hat represents a way to see and analyze a problem.
I have worked in the fashion industry for a long time.
In 2009, I founded a traditional women clothing brand.
With effort I opened my first store,
then another one, and one more.
After five franchises, a national brand,
more than 100 wholesale customers, an almost perfect business model.
At the same time, without realizing it,
I was an accomplice of a violent
and depersonalized change in the fashion industry.
Craftsmanship, trades, author’s design, all of it was lost.
The big brands began to make more than 35 collections per year,
and fashion became disposable.
My own brand became disposable.
The system was filled with viruses and started to fail.
According to the UN, fashion is one of the most polluting industries on Earth.
It is responsible for 8 percent
of global greenhouse gas emissions.
To make a jean, you need 7500 liters of water.
In 2018, I received an invitation through the social networks of a textile workshop
to produce my clothes there.
They tell me about their great ability as producers, and it was tempting.
It meant more clothes in less time, more customers, and shops.
It was crazy not to accept it.
I went to my appointment very enthusiastic, very happy.
Upon entering the workshop, I heard, "Stop, police!"
The police.
Migrations.
Child protection.
All the law enforcement raiding the place.
And there I saw it.
I saw the virus.
But I not only saw it, I understood it.
It was around my house and I was part of it.
At the same time, I was delayed in that place
thinking that I should go to school for my children.
The owner of the workshop told me, "We are in the same boat."
I was like, "No, you and I, we are not in the same boat."
But inside me there was something which told me, "Yes, we are."
That was a click in my life, a bandage was unveiled,
I spent 3 nights without sleeping.
The only thing I thought was I have to do something
I must keep doing what I love and am passionate about,
but in a different way.
I need to hack the fashion industry.
And there I remembered Mr. DeBono, I put on my hat,
and in this quest for transformation
I traveled to Neuquen, in search for natural fibers,
specifically mohair wool, coming from the Angora goat
that lives in our Patagonia
in order to add it to the winter collection of that year.
The idea didn’t seem very innovative to me,
didn’t quite convince me.
I didn’t feel those tickles in the belly that you feel when you love an idea.
Anyways, it was a fail.
The wool was too expensive, the business model couldn’t stand it.
It was a disappointment.
About to leave, the last day --
At that time, my dad was working in Neuquen,
at the industrial park there --
I decided to go look for him so we go back to the hotel together
and there at the industrial park
I had the chance to meet an oil waste treatment plant.
Something new; fuel cans, soil, and among other waste,
thousands of stacked sand container bags appeared,
crushed, waiting to be burned.
The big bags.
When I saw them, I fell in love.
I said I can’t believe they burn it.
An oil well uses 30,000 tons of sand,
which is equivalent to 20,000 bags
that are crushed and burned, not recycled.
And of course, release greenhouse gases and pollute the air.
I saw them and said: it’s fabric.
Unused, new, resistant, different fabric, all for me.
There it all occurred to me in my head, in a minute.
I could put an end to this obsolete, linear production model,
where natural resources are exploited as if they were infinite,
but also people are exploited in search for a very low cost.
These same people who end up paying the true price.
And here my hat was totally white.
To hack is to have a purpose.
To have a purpose is to innovate, a purpose that moves you, that fills you.
An environmental and social purpose,
which grows hand in hand to business growth.
The more backpacks, bags, wallets I sell, the more waste I can recycle
and more genuine and decent work in textile cooperatives I can generate.
A new production paradigm,
a more equitable, regenerative, ethical and local paradigm.
I manufacture my own raw material on demand for my business,
without depending on fabric stocks, with prices in dollars.
And best of all, in six months we had billed as never before
with the traditional brand.
Suddenly, many people had joined us in this new production system.
Many people have identified with my purpose.
People didn’t have to sacrifice ethics for aesthetics,
any longer.
There were many of us wearing the same hat.
In this context, where greenhouse gases increase year by year,
reversing the effect of climate change is an urgent plea.
But before that, we need to reset our head, our brain.
We need to empty our hard drives,
by deleting those ideas and thoughts to avoid making automatic decisions,
and make room for new ideas.
Because our planet needs changes, needs innovation.
Our planet needs a lot of hackers and you, and you, and you,
What hat are you going to wear?
Thank you very much.