Colleen Taylor

...abridged in graffiti on a San Francisco sidewalk.

It's been years since my Bible Bowl days, but the first thing I thought when I saw this was that it's a pretty good summary of the God I was taught about as a kid in Lutheran church. I'm not exactly religious anymore, but I have all positive memories and a really huge respect for the church I was raised in.

Since these days I generally commune on Sunday mornings over mimosas and waffles instead of wine and wafers, I'll take my gospel anywhere I can get it.

RIP, my unconditional love for 7 for All Mankind jeans. We had a good run.

Poking around some shops yesterday, I looked into buying another pair of Seven jeans. Sevens are definitely pricey (around $165 a pair full-price) but in the past I've always found them to be worth it. The denim is really high quality- thick, soft, really luxurious feeling- the colors are rich, the fit is flattering, and they hold up for years and years.

All the Seven jeans I've owned were made in California. I was under the impression that the primary reason Sevens are so expensive is because they're made here in the US. As you may know, I'm happy to pay a premium for things that are made here.

But the Sevens I saw for sale yesterday felt very different from ones I've seen before-- the material was flimsy and rough, and something about the fit was off. They just seemed cheap. Then I looked at the tag, and cursed out loud.


The Seven jeans at the store (apologies for blurry camera phone photo)

I was really surprised to find that Seven has started making (or "assembling", whatever that means) at least some of their jeans in Mexico. 7 for all Mankind has been in business since 2000; why would they start offshoring to boost profits now?

Well, a quick web search confirmed that Seven has gone the way of Nature's Gate: In mid-2007 the company was acquired by VF Corp., a publicly-traded apparel conglomerate, and cost-cutting changes ensued (stock market shareholders can be a pretty demanding bunch.) Of course, Seven hasn't passed down any cost savings to the customer-- the price tag on this pair still read $165. VF doesn't break out profits brand-by-brand in their earnings reports, but I have to imagine that they really started making a killing, margins-wise, when they shifted Seven's production south of the border. I mean, most Levi's are made in Mexico, and those retail for $50 or less.

Apparently there are still some Seven brand jeans made in California, but they're sold mostly on Seven's website and in the brand's own boutiques-- which makes sense since they don't have to pay any retailer fees there. I guess it's good that some pairs are still being made here, but it's a bummer that I'll have to be a stickler about checking tags going forward.

So the search for ethically-manufactured jeans that I enjoy wearing resumes (sorry, American Apparel, you fit the former requirement but definitely not the latter.) If anyone out there is interested in starting a company and sticking to their original principles, I swear I'll be a loyal customer!

"I've spent a lot of time in Mexico, and in Mexican culture they embrace death," Fonda explains. "On All Saints Day they sit on their ancestors' graves and they drink and they laugh. That's how to do it. To know it's coming, to try to understand. You're shortchanging yourself in life if you don't countenance your mortality."

--Jane Fonda on aging in the November issue of Elle Magazine.

It may be partly that I've got "sexy fill-in-the-blank" fatigue, but I'm starting to think Dia de los Muertos (traditionally celebrated November 1st-2nd) is a much more interesting holiday than Halloween.

Photo credit AlejandroLinaresGarcia

Earlier this month I was in my hometown, finally organizing the stuff remaining in my old bedroom, and found a clipping of a poem I loved but had totally forgotten about. It's fun and somewhat surprising to realize that my teenage self had pretty decent taste in some things (the clothing I found is another story altogether.)

The Teacher
by Billy Collins

There is that part of us that believes
We will never die – otherwise,
How could we watch so much television,

and there is the part that believes
when we die, all life will come to an end.
This is the part that storms within us
dragging its robes across the marble floor.

But what I like to believe
is that the minute I die,
the world will change into a map of the world

which I will roll up into a tube
and carry with me wherever I am going.

It could be an antique map with pictures
of sea serpents in the corners
or a huge Mercator projection,
but when I finally get where I am going
(and I have a feeling it will take days),

I will spread out the map on something flat,
and there I will study the patterns
of shorelines and boundaries,
maybe reminisce about a country I once visited
or a strait where a navel battle once took place.

I also like to believe
that there will be other beings there
who will gather around this picture of earth
so I can explain to them what it was like –

how the cold mountains rose above valleys,
how this was called geography,
how the people from this pale blue area
crossed into the light green area to the south
and killed whoever they found there
and how this was known as history

and as they listen, mild-eyed and silent,
others will arrive to join the circle
like ripples moving toward the center instead of away.

Published in the November 2003 issue of Poetry Magazine