From Bushwick, Bags for the World
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A few months ago in this column I described a 3rd Ward gig put on by Bags for the People. They called it a Sweatshop Social, and it was this writer’s first tango with a sewing machine. Since then, the good people at Bags have taught numerous needle neophytes like me how to prep the Singer and ease the peddle to create cheap, colorful, and — more importantly — non-plastic hand-bags that can be kept or distributed to shoppers for free. And now, four months later, they’ve gotten incorporated, and have their sights on a national movement.
Glenn Robinson is a cheery combination of folksy and diligent. A Union Square Farmers’ Market worker by day, and the co-founder of these Sweatshop Socials — the humble origins of which were in the apartment of a friend — Mr. Robinson and his crew "wanted to make a positive impact on the exorbitant use of plastic bags that they witnessed (at) each and every market." Proactive motivation like that inspired them to step out of the apartment and bring their craft-making to the masses.
Though it seems there’s a degree of craftiness here in addition to the craft-making: how many pro-active environmental consciousness-raising events can you point to that are fun, hands-on, and at root a party? Consider that, with the live music, and homemade beer and snacks, the Sweatshop Social would be fun in itself without the environmental awareness and impact involved; the latter is almost a behind-the-scenes byproduct, and one could point to this as a factor in the high turnout they’ve been enjoying. "Many of the people coming out have never sewn," Glenn tells me, "so teaching them how to sew has become a really big aspect of the events, which is perhaps even bigger than making a certain quantity of bags!"
It is that spirit of affectionate fellowship in the Socials, while remaining efficacious, that keeps one’s eyes on Bags for the People as they grow in stature. Cynical as it might seem, a movement catches on much less for its merits than for its vogue, and something like a Sweatshop Social can claim both. Their newly-minted Certificate of Incorporation hasn’t changed much in terms of day-to-day operations, but Glenn sees things in the bigger picture: "(It) is a major step towards receiving our tax-exempt status. Once we receive that, we will be able to go after the funding necessary to expand our public outreach and programming." How will this take shape? How do you maintain the cozy feel of a sewing circle mixer on a national scale?
Glenn’s vision keeps things in-house to start with, but not necessarily local, suggesting for instance that "a nationwide tour in a mobile sewing vehicle that pumps out reggae and runs machines off the sun would be pretty cool." He also envisions passing the baton — or needle, if you will — off to other localities. "One of our long-term goals is to create a broad public action network that connects sewing groups to our mission. This way, instead of carrying the weight of the world on our backs, we will involve the masses, through these sewing groups, with bag sewing workshops and events. This will give us the capacity to show people in all corners of the world that simple and creative action can be powerful."
It would be fun to see a charming and unassuming a bunch as Bags for the People take their craft and craftiness to other parts of the country, especially those places where sewing circles already exist. It presents an interesting opportunity to marry arts-and-crafts with environmental consciousness, and one could argue that that is exactly the sort of manifestation the latter needs to take in order to cultivate a proactive interest in what is really a colossal problem with devastating prospects. (Here’s a good read to get an idea.)
Progress comes a step at a time, though, and few know this better than Glenn Robinson. "A really short term goal," he says, "is to find some office/work space because my apartment can only take so much more fabric."























