slow clothes
n.pl.— «Nowhere does he touch on the appeal of Slow Clothes, which got me thinking, first frivolously and then more seriously, about not just the sensual pleasures to be found in dressing and undressing slowly but how following the guiding principles of the Slow Food movement can have a positive effect on our wardrobes.…There’s no question that when you buy Vancouver-grown, you’re getting concepts and ideas hot off the drawing board, designed last night and stitched up this morning. The new crop of designers just emerging from the schools is not just in lockstep with what’s happening, it’s ahead. This is design still with the dew on it, and, as with those Okanagan peaches, you know where it comes from. Buying mass-produced labels means you have no way of being sure that that T-shirt or pair of jeans wasn’t made by preschoolers in a Third World country. I’m not saying that there isn’t sweatshop labour in Canada—there is—but seeking out locally produced fashion does up the odds that the person who stitched that lapel or pocket (often the designers themselves) wasn’t working for peanuts.» —“Just How Slow Can You Go?” by Angela Murrills Georgia Strait (Vancouver, British Columbia) June 3, 2004. (source: Double-Tongued Dictionary)
Further reading
Joan from Augusta, Georgia, says her grandfather used to pronounce the word onions as if they were spelled ernions. The word onion is adapted from the French cognate oignon, and thanks to variations in dialect, geography, and other factors, this...
Penny in Savannah, Georgia, recalls that her father, a Navy veteran who served in the South Pacific, would say of someone who was clueless or didn’t know what he was talking about: That person doesn’t know if he’s punched, bored...