Put on a Hippy Face

If this summer's fashion trends can tell us anything, it's that the world is definitely getting smaller. Standing on Broadway in fashion-crazy lower Manhattan, the scene on the street is more Global Village than Greenwich Village: women running in and out of stores in saris and Native-American-inspired footwear, vendors selling African-style wooden beaded jewelry, and paisley-clad hipsters each trying to look more citizen-of-the-world than the next.

The sights on Broadway in Manhattan are the same as in malls and downtowns across the country. Everywhere, young women are donning batik skirts and beaded slippers as encouraged by the high-fashion architects of this summer's big trend: bohemian chic. Flip through a trendy young women's catalogue, and you'll see gauzy, embroidered, multi-colored garments accompanied by these taglines: "ethnic-inspired" (Delia's), "boho" and "vintage" (Alloy), "eastern paisley" and "seriously loose and super-flowy" (Urban Outfitters).

The only problem is that the ethnic patchwork is contrived. Young women who have never traveled out of their zip code are dressing like they just came back from a whirlwind tour of Nairobi, Prague and the Khyber Pass. While some girls really did get that embroidered blouse in the former Soviet bloc, most of them have patched together their summer wardrobes at the Gap, Urban Outfitters, or United Colors of Benneton. And most of them have done so in blissful -- or willful -- ignorance of where their clothing actually came from.

Most people are at least vaguely aware that much of our clothing is produced in conditions antithetical to the values of "one world" bohemianism. Aside from the "Made In ___" tag that identifies its country of origin, it's impossible to tell just by looking at a piece of clothing whether it was manufactured by sweatshop workers. But odds are that it was.

According to a report [pdf] by Behind the Label, an initiative of the union UNITE HERE, roughly 80 percent of garment workers making clothes for U.S. retailers are working in conditions that violate our own domestic labor laws, as set forth by the U.S. Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA). That's over two million people worldwide, disproportionately women and young people under 18.

When people hear the word "sweatshop," they often think of child labor, long hours, and insufficient pay. They may also be aware that sweatshops are often overcrowded, poorly ventilated, and difficult to escape from in the event of a fire. In many sweatshops, managers force female workers to have pregnancy tests and fire employees who try to organize unions. In extreme cases, workers are forced to sign contracts pledging to never marry, have children, ask for a raise, or participate in religious or political activities.

Free-market economists and spokespeople for big business do their best to portray sweatshop workers as grateful for any work at all, and applaud themselves and each other for their humanitarianism. Urban Outfitters founder and President Richard Hayne, who acknowledges that the company and its affiliates -- Anthropologie and Free People -- use non-union overseas sewing shops to make their ueber-trendy clothing lines, has argued that some of the women sewing clothes for him in India had no other potential source of income aside from "selling their bodies." When asked why workers can't be paid more for their labor, the response is always that higher wages would necessarily lead to layoffs and skyrocketing consumer prices.

But the executives overseeing the abuses take home salaries amounting to thousands of times more than the wages paid to the factory workers. Sweatshop Watch reported recently that workers making Levi's jeans in Saipan (a U.S. territory in the Pacific) earned $3.05 per hour, while Levi's CEO Philip Marineau was compensated to the tune of $11,971 per hour -- almost 15 times what he was paid in 2001. Even by simply freezing Marineau's salary at its 2001 levels, Levi's could have given each of the 7,500 workers in Saipan earning minimum wage a 50 per cent raise.