Urban scavenging and a new way to look at the world
28-9-2024
From a young age, we are taught not to pick things up from the street. There is a certain point at which an object becomes thrash, and once it has reached that point, you are no longer supposed to use it, or touch it at all. I've always had trouble with this standard. From a young age I picked up everything that piqued my interest, which was mostly broken bike chains and small bits of metal, since there was not much else to be found in the rural area where I lived. My parents, who both worked in lumber and did many kinds of craft projects, would also have interesting thrash for me, like bits of chain, metal rings and hooks, leather strips, and so forth. I would use this to make simple jewelry or fidget toys, but i also loved just collecting and sorting these trinkets.
Another thing I learned young, is that you can't buy everything you want. First of all, things cost money. I was not poor, but I worked a youth wage job, and when you count every purchase in hours you'd have to work for it, it becomes a lot less fun to buy things. And second of all, the specific things you want may not even be available to buy - especially if you live in the rural outskirts of a small city. When I got into metal and alternative fashion, some of the first things I did was learn how to paint band shirts and patches with fabric paint and paper stencils, because I could not buy any of these things in my city. I did not know how to do this well, because many online tutorials assume you have access to a variety of tools and products I simply did not have. So I learned to be resourceful and develop my own methods over time.
When I left my parents house at 18 to go to university, I moved into a city. That led to a few developments. First of all, the realization that buying furniture and kitchenware in chain stores was incredibly expensive, and consequently the realization that thrift stores exist and are easy to visit when you live in a city center. And second of all, the realization that in a city, the streets are littered with treasures: other peoples thrash.
We are conditioned to ignore thrash; its a category that things slip into at some point, after which its no longer acceptable to touch them. They are considered dirty, and they have to be removed and disposed of. But if you overcome this mindset and start paying attention to what you see on the streets, a whole new world opens its doors for you.
This happened to me when I moved into a city. the discovery of thrift stores had already greatly increased the range of things I could get my hands on, since they became affordable to me, but also because they were cheap enough to buy something that didn't quite fit my needs but then experiment with altering it until it did or could be used as something else. This trained me to see things in other things: a handkerchief in a torn patterned shirt, a scarf in a pair of ugly leggings, a plant pot in a Halloween bucket. But at some point, I was looking for a set of leather gloves for a costume, and I simply could not find any that fit me in the thrift store. To buy new ones was expensive but possible, but I had already developed an aversion to buying new things unless it was absolutely necessary. And one day, I saw a leather glove outside on the street in a muddy puddle. I took it home and cleaned it, and found out it fit me perfectly. My eyes were suddenly opened to the possibility of taking things from the street. As if they were put there specifically for me, I started seeing leather gloves everywhere. I now have a pair of them, in two different colors, but they worked for my costume and still keep my hands warm and dry to this day. I feel a deep joy and appreciation when I wear these mismatched gloves, because they serve me so well, and I did not have to give any money to some clothing company exploiting their workers or to fund the slaughter of animals for it. I simply picked up thrash from the street that would have been disposed of otherwise, and turned it into an object again. It was comparable to the satisfaction of a good thrift store find, but much stronger.
I consider the appreciation of thrash a form of art, something you have to develop an eye for. These gloves were only the start for me. I lived in a large student building that had its own container for large thrash like furniture, which I checked regularly and where I found some amazing things, like a fully functional adjustable desk chair and a thick yoga mat I use for sleepovers. In my messy shared kitchen, I leave bits of paper in dishes that were left behind dirty, and if it is still in there after a month, I consider them abandoned, clean them and take them for myself. I pick up furniture that people left on the sidewalk before the garbage truck can take it. Friends have learned to let me know if they need something, because I keep an eye out for it, and I'm fairly reliable at finding their requests somewhere.
It goes even further than this, though. I started with picking up objects as they are. But by now, I also harvest thrash for materials. When i see torn furniture in a color I like, I strip the upholstery and use the fabric. Especially a broken leather chair could be like a goldmine to me. I take flat bike tires to use the rubber. I cut shoe inlays from foam mats. I collect bits and pieces of metal and put them in a big box for repair projects. The world is my oyster.
I am of the opinion that possessions gained my making or finding them, bring much more satisfaction than buying them. Over-consumption and the struggle for ethical choices in an inherently exploitative system makes me feel exhausted and disgusted sometimes. But through my scavenging and crafting, I feel more connected to the things I own. For me, it is not just about saving money, but about regaining grip on the things I use and the world around me. I now look at the world in a fundamentally different, more pragmatic and more fluid way. When I want something, I don't wonder where I can purchase it, but first how I could make it or where I could find it. Don't get me wrong, I still go to stores ocassionally, like everyone else. But I spend much less money and time there than I would otherwise. And fun things I could not afford to buy new, are now available to me when I figure out a way to make them or when I get lucky and find them on the street.
One day, I would love to make a zine to share the scavenging skills I've developed for myself. But for now: know that there is so much out there. You do not have to dismiss thrash. If it is dirty, you can clean it. If it is broken, you can fix it. It is not a skill you have to already have, as much as it is a way of thinking, a desire to learn, and a willingness to get your hands dirty. You can do it too. All you need is an open mind (and sometimes a box cutter). Next time you go out, have a good look around. You may be surprised with what you find.