Organic my foot

One of the most pointless Earth-do-gooder exercises is the current craze for garments made from organic cotton. What begins as a purist idea ends up being guided by knee-jerk consumer guilt and the dictates of the dollar.

Overseas, organic cotton is making quite a splash, so it was predictable that we'd get a dose here. Unlike most exalted ideas, organic cotton did not make its debut in designer labels, but went straight for the groin by appearing in Big W and Target.

True organic cotton garments, for the record, are made from cotton grown without the aid of chemicals. Therefore it can only be produced in a natural colour or, if somebody can perfect the commercial application of natural dyes, we may see it various vegetable soup colours.

One importer I know has stock of natural organic cotton T-shirts which looked as though they would do rather nicely for him until the chains weighed in with their versions.

Target's organic cotton probably starts out on the right track through growing, spinning and knitting but then the story gets the wobbles. The yarn or the garments are dyed and printed using commercial dyestuffs that are anything but organic. And, for good measure, Target throws some nylon and elastane into the organic mix in some of the garments.
The label that accompanies this nicely styled range of tops and short dresses piously states: 'this fabric is made from organically grown cotton, without the use of synthetic chemicals, artificial fertilisers or pesticides, helping to preserve the health of the world we live in.'

'Now, to be fair to Target, (which I greatly admire) the ticket does say 'made from' without claiming to be 'made only from'. But I would imagine the average consumer, if she really gives a damn about organic anything, would think the whole garment had sprung from the soil as is, which is not the case.

I'd like to see a bit more honesty in labelling of organic cotton garments with wording along the lines of 'the cotton used in this garment was grown, spun and knitted without the use of artificial fertilisers or pesticides but was then buggered up with the addition of acidic dyestuffs and rubber compound printing'.

Loom with a view
Hands up those who have ever been inside an Australian woollen mill. Not many, I see, largely because there is not one woollen and worsted mill left in the country.

I must admit to not only being inside one, but working for a nearly a year in the Centenary Mills in Bentleigh Victoria as part of the training program my father had mapped out for me ahead of becoming a highly  unsuccessful textile wholesaler. But that's a story for another time.

What I'm trying to admit is that I love woollen mills - with their fearfully noisy weaving sheds, humming spinning frames and dark, steamy dyehouses reeking of acid. To me they are exciting places where fleeces become textiles as the result of a skill akin to art.

In the days before the late Senator Button began lowering the tariff barriers that signalled the slow death of Australian textile and garment manufacturing, Sydney's leading woollen and worsted mill was John Vicars in Marrickville. It was a massive industrial site that began weaving in 1893.

All that is now left of the 50 acres of mill buildings is the original timber house (known as 'the mill house') that successively became the residence of various Vicars families. The site of the mill itself is now mostly occupied by the Marrickville Metro shopping mall.

AMP, owner of the shopping centre, commissioned a plaque to commemorate the Vicars mill site. The plaque was unveiled by the Mayor of Marrickville on April 9 under one of the old Moreton Bay figs in front of the Mill House.

The current John Vickers, who has carried on the kindness and community care of his forebears, spoke at the ceremony. I didn't attend for fear I'd start blubbering at the sadness of the passing of a great Australian enterprise.

 
Dinnergong at Target
Why on earth has Collette Dinnigan done a deal with Target? With her turnover quoted at $19 million (hard to believe) she announced her lingerie label, Wild Hearts, was to be marketed through Target stores. She recalled past, pleasant days when she did a line for Marks and Spencer in the UK, demonstrating to her fans that selling downmarket is not new to her. But what damage does that do to a designer label?

I give full marks to Target for enticing designers to sup at the budget table and for creating the Target Limited Edition house brand which is attractively styled and well worth the money. But really, Collette, if you're doing as well as reported, why take the Target bait?

By Fraser McEwing