#synthetic rubber plant

[raindropsandleaves]

Rubber Plant work flow

[sovietpostcards]

The Synthetic Rubber Plant in Sumgait. Comsomol members Larisa Bulatova and Tanya Fokina. Photo by Dmitry Baltermants (Azerbaijan, 1961).

[glassrowboat]

Kiss Me (Kill Me). Dottore.

Summary: And then his breath halted. Nails slotting into the same marks she had left in the leather as he gripped it tightly. One sentence was enough to have his synthetic heart beating wildly, pounding as he took in the most simple phrase possible. After all, how can one mistake the words sitting neatly right before him?

Series warnings: suicidal ideation, gore, Dottore, the author trying their best to write a psychologist without any formal studying themselves, suicide, self harm, drug abuse, unhealthy relationships, depressed reader, reader is her own character, eventual smut, religious symbolism

Chapter one:

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

Matthew 11:28-30

Pages were pinched between deft hands, crinkling them with ease as if the words printed out on them in a rushed, messy scrawl meant no more than a spider being crushed to death under a white tissue. All without so much as a hint of protest, for what could paper do against merciless hands?

It was merely a dead tree at the end of it all. Torn from its root, broken off and left to dry in the heat of a warm day, sapping it of all the life it had only to be dunked back into water. Boiled; down to its most basic properties and pulped. All to be formed into something new: the base that starts a creation. From books, art, or scrawled secrets in a diary.

But the dead do not praise the almighty that snuffed it out, nor do any who go down into silence. So the plant it had once been withers away.

A page was torn, a sound that grated on his ears. Dottore almost recoiled on instinct, having gotten so used to the distinct rip of paper that was torn asunder after hours of work had been documented only to turn out fruitless. A waste of his time and effort as a trash bin would slowly fill and tip over.

A scowl grew on his lips.

Now just what was she doing?

In the matter of a few long strides, Dottore had moved from his spot, leaning against the doorframe to her, grabbing her wrist with ease. Capturing her attention. The woman he dared to whisper the pet name habibi to in the dark of the night between rumpled sheets and had long since dubbed Beauty jolted back, looking up at him in a manner he was well used to by now.

Her gaze was as analytical as always; from the very moment they first met to now in their silent reverie. Observing him in the very same way Dottore looked down at a subject below his eager fingers or a piece of Khaenri’ah's legacy left behind in fragments scattered across Teyvat; breaking them down and building them back up so he may understand every last piece. How it works, how it moves, how it falls, and watch it all come together again with a newfound piece of knowledge to utilize.

But contrary to those moments hidden away in his laboratory, there were no gloves separating Beauty from him like there always was with those who lay strapped down on a stainless steel vivisection table. Nay, there was only the warmth of skin against skin he had so greedily chosen to relish in for he was a man who has never tasted sweetness being drawn in by the red sheen of an apple, pointed teeth biting into it for the first time as its juices befouled his maw. Not even the snap of blue rubber against his wrists could save him from the heat of her touch.

That was something Dottore had learned long ago.

“This is the first time I've seen you out of bed in days, and it's to tear apart your work?” Dottore questioned.

At least, that's what he assumed it was. She hadn't even given him the proper chance to peek at the pages he was expecting to see littered with bullet points and breakdowns of this subject or that one all in glittery ink before her free hand was brushing it all away. Nearly knocking it off the desk as she formed a measly excuse of a stack. Ruffling could be heard, but that paled to how her fingers were splayed wide to block his prying eyes.

Only a few messy words had caught his attention, drawing him in before she ripped everything right out from under him. Sheets of paper a rug his feet weren't even planted on suddenly throwing him off balance.

Tilting his head back to thunk against something all with the gentle scoff, she huffed, not even looking up at him as “peeking now” was asked in an accusatory tone.

“Could you blame a scholar for being curious?”

“Yes, I can.”

He felt her swatting at his chest, touch as light as the gentle caress of a falling feather, as she tried to get Dottore to give her some space; if not an ample amount. It's just like she's been insisting on for days now. Endlessly. Assurances of how she's fine, that they're fine, and everything is simply peachy besides the fact she's simply been feeling a little under the weather as of late have been stuffed into his ears again and again like cotton swabs. Soon, no doubt, they would pierce the tympanic membrane and leave only blood in their wake. For today, it had reached the two week mark, and Beauty was still insisting she was “fine.”

It took no effort on Dottore's part to capture the offending limb.

His thumb ran over her wrist, over her racing pulse, until he was tracing the lines on her palm. Mapping out how they curved around them and shifted with each flex of her hand. “Someone's nervous.”

“You..” Beauty's voice trailed off, fading down to a whisper only from uttering one word. But still, he stared down at her, waiting for a proper answer on what this entire debacle had been about. “And you know I don't like you going over my work when it's incomplete.”

Dottore's fingers twitched, threatening to tighten his hold on her before he let her go.

“Then I suppose I should have come home at my usual hour then. That way, you would have had the time to hide this”- he gestured to the mess on the vanity- “away.”

Of course, she jumped, nearly throwing herself off a cliff in the process, at the chance to change the subject. “Actually, I was wondering why you're back early. You're usually so wrapped up in work.”

Which would usually end with Dottore trudging through their bedroom door after a long day, only to slip his coat off as silently as possible to drape it over a lone chair off to the side. A dull blue light would always fill the corner as he came back, flickering over his face and hers as Beauty laid in bed, illuminating the way her eyelids twitched in irritation at the sudden glow; still, she always pretended to be asleep anyway.

Never stirring from the covers.

Not even as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and slipped into the bathroom to get ready for the quiet night that awaited him; one of Dottore staring up at the ceiling while she slowly fell into the depths of the dream world he had once been ecstatic at having access to when he first ripped the Akasha from his ear and called it what it truly was: a limitation. An inhibitor. A chain wrapped around the necks of human beings like they were dogs to be shackled by Celestia's will.

The very same irking feeling at the thought greeted Dottore tonight like an old friend, beckoning him as he made his way downstairs, pulling her along with him and away from her supposed work and the wooden vanity so they could have dinner together.

Though she had first insisted on cleaning up, on getting rid of the “trash” she had “dared to pen down in the first place.” Her purple bound leather notebook with loose, torn pages sticking out of the sides was suddenly shoved into a nearby waste bin and quickly taken out to be dumped by one of the maids as they worked. All before he could even make out the design stamped into the front.

It was so unlike her, but she always did have a way of confounding him.

A reticent meal had taken up his evening; one Dottore never would have imagined bothering with five years ago, not when he could have been down in the lab with the sounds of metal clanging or the gentle hum of a machine running as he tinkered with a ruin guard. Rust would be filling his nose rather than the scent of roasted duck as he was left with something that would at least make eye contact (or the closest a ruin guard can get to such) without Dottore having to draw its chin up to look at him.

Her eyes boring into his before she pushed Dottore's hand away and told him to eat lest he let another meal go cold before he finished it. Again.

So he laid in their shared bed, the taste of mint still on Dottore's tongue from brushing his teeth after dinner, and once again started counting each dot in the ceiling above as he stared up at the all too familiar sight.

When he was younger, before he knew the truth about the false sky and the lies it whispered to him, a little boy with wide eyes and his mother’s favorite blanket wrapped around his shoulders to keep off the starving cold had done the same with the stars. No matter how itchy it had been, he would have tugged it closer, welcomed its warm embrace, as he wordlessly mouthed the words:

One thousand forty-three.

One thousand forty-four.

One thousand forty-five.

Until he was dragged inside by a hand that grabbed him a little too tightly to do the very thing Beauty had now: to fall asleep.

Her breathing steady, as unshakable as those devout to prayers and a lifetime in pews as Beauty laid curled up against one of the many pillows littering the bed, taking more comfort in the foam stuffed inside it rather than Dottore and his awaiting arms. Comfortably, her nose sat buried away in the shirt she had stolen from him, again, and her legs coiled themselves up in the sheets. She always did have a way of taking them from him in the midst of slumber.

It would be so easy to pull that damnable pillow from her clutches, to throw it off to the side and hold her close until the morning came, and he'll have to leave when the sun rises. Casting its glow across her form lying alone. Only an imprint of his body in the mattress for company, but the few words he has been able to catch scratched out from the mess of papers have been worming at his brain the entire time he had laid there counting away.

Maggots to a corpse.

Feasting on curiosity he had in spades.

One thousand fifty-two, Dottore counted.

His name had been painted across the pages. Dottore, Zandik, and the nickname she called him. Matching the one he had for her. Back then, she had a smile on her face that had halted his breath, just the way it did as he stared at handwriting he could recall all the way down to every flick of an E.

Observations, no doubt, for human behavior was her bread and butter; the very air she breathed; and the ink spilling from her pen as she wrote down every sin he dared to confess.

He had received hundreds of reports from her by now, far too many to count but stored away nonetheless, about the latest test subjects detailing every last thing she could think of. To the point that he already had a vague idea of what she would have written about him, but it was more than that. It had to be. For she wouldn't have tossed that damn journal out otherwise.

Cast it aside like dross.

With one last lingering glance her way as Beauty snored against the sheets, Dottore got out of bed.

The floorboards didn't even so much as creek below him as he walked to the door and shut it with a silent click.

A book of all things was haunting him. Causing Dottore to leave his chambers in the middle of the night to make his way down chilled halls. The presence of the cryo Archon herself decorating each corridor, each twist and turn, with the cold he had worked so hard to combat a few centuries ago with heaters so hot to the touch you couldn't even graze past one without it leaving a burn on any trace of exposed flesh. (As learned from personal experience).

Zapolyarny Palace's rubbish room should be…

The flutter of his white jacket followed Dottore as he pulled it on, having only just plucked it from where it hung before the door had smacked him in the face he made his way down a flight of steps.

Briefly, Dottore could hear his segments over their shared network prying into what he was doing. Or arguing with themselves, really; that seemed to be their favorite hobby. They always had something to say. To jabber about to the point that tamping each voice down had become second nature.

Shutting them out was easy, something he had done millions of times by now. And that was just this past six months.

The last thing he heard, flickering out as the connection was temporarily cut to dull the ache in his head was Epsilon. Petulant, as between the radio static Dottore caught something about “and you say I'm the one who should mind their own business.”

Then, all Dottore was left with was the loud groan of the trash compactor. A sound that had welcomed him time and time again after all the times he had been down here. His shoes had always hit the floor louder than necessary as he had to deal with tossing supplies that unfortunately hadn't lasted through his experiments.

It creaks a nostalgic hum.

But that wasn't why he was here.

Flexing his hands, the leather of his gloves moving with them, Dottore set to digging through the plastic bags in front of him. Tossing anything that wasn't his goal out of the way, cluttering the floor with paper cups, shredded files, and whatever else had been used and forgotten. A lesser man might have been disgusted, but this was just another Tuesday.

And then his fingers met the stained purple leather.

Kalpalata lotus print embedded on the front.

A white figure huddled over trash stood in the middle of the room, a reverent touch grazing over the cover of the journal covered in scratches and fingernails prints worn into the leather just like the flower marking the front from having gripped it too tightly.

Surely, if someone came in now, they'd look at him as if he was crazed. Maybe even shout about ghosts suddenly intruding on the palace; to which he'd only laughed.

Taking the treasure in his grasp, Dottore turned it over methodically, studying just how well worn it was. Threadbare, down to the bone as the binding threatens to fall out on him, the first page already hanging out of the book as he opens it to read his habibi’s name claiming this as hers all with one simple signature staining the surface; in a way that he couldn't find himself to mind even with the occasional drops of ink.

It was enough to have Dottore pulling his gloves off, throwing them to the floor to collect later so he could trace over each word. Even with the splatters, it was still so much neater than his own notes written down in a crazed frenzy.

And then his breath halted.

Nails slotting into the same marks she had left in the leather as he gripped it tightly.

One sentence was enough to have his synthetic heart beating wildly, pounding as he took in the most simple phrase possible.

After all, how can one mistake the words:

Wouldn't it all be easier if I was dead?

In pure black ink. No colored pens, no glitter, not even doodles in the margins or a little heart just for him, a sight Dottore had grown well used to seeing in her reports to him.

The sight made him want to hurl the book into the shadows of the room around him. Let it be forgotten between heaps of trash and plastic bags. They could hide the pages, cover them in scraps of food, and soak in the drops of half finished drink until each letter was blurred beyond recognition.

She did, after all, decide it was trash.

So wouldn't it make sense he let it be treated like it was? As long as it meant never seeing those words again.

His arm was already extended, waiting to toss it into the foul abyss and say good riddance, but what would that do, really?

In the end, he still knew.

Dottore could sit here, close his eyes, and picture that damned sentence again all because he knew.

That simple fact was enough to have Dottore grimacing in annoyance. Mind telling him the obvious, just as always, even in this moment where his emotions were stirring into a storm. Clouds in his veins and behind the eyes, raining down as he flipped to the next page.

Thursday, May 13, 1675.

Graduation was today.

I sat with a few other people in my Darshan in the cheap chairs they set up (one I swear gave me a splinter) and watched as people took their scrolls with smiles on their faces. Years of work finally came to fruition.

Good for them, really. Good for me. Or, at least, that's what I tried to remind myself as I climbed up on stage and faked a smile as I was congratulated for making it this far. But even then, I was glad to cast that hat aside, the yellow Vahumana badge staring back at me as I put it away for the last time.

Another page.

Wednesday, May 19, 1675.

I have everything packed up and ready to go for my trip back home. My clothes were cleaned and folded, books were stored in cardboard boxes (I never noticed how many I've bought or been gifted over these past few years until I saw three boxes stuffed full), knick knacks wrapped in paper for safe travel, and the key to my room set out to be returned to the dorm mother tomorrow morning.

Everything is ready for me to leave and forget these hallowed halls.

Just like my roommate already has.

She didn't even say anything to me other than a passing goodbye as she left. It's not like I was surprised. Still, you think someone you have lived with for so long would be missed despite the harsh tension between us, but maybe that's just my own feelings.

Regardless, I'll be heading back to my family home soon, at least. So that is some comfort for whatever it's worth. Even if that does mean I'll have to prepare answers for the questions they will undoubtedly ask.

And another.

Saturday, May 22, 1675.

I have just arrived back home and already I want to leave.

My family was all smiles as they welcomed me in, told me to unpack what I could before dinner, and then barged into my room to talk.

What were your classes like? What did you do while you were gone? Did you make any friends? ….And I couldn't bring myself to tell them that no, I don't think I did. Not unless you count the someone I kept bothering for the sake of helping me translate texts full of the old Sumerian dialect for my papers.

Sunday, May 23, 1675.

Sunday dinners are the same as ever, I see. The last time I had to deal with this was when I was a freshman and visited for the first official break between semesters. From there, I decided I would prefer to stay in the dorms even when it's the holidays.

But tonight, I sat before a plate full of sabz meat stew and rice and watched everyone bow their heads as my family prayed in thanks.

The entire time I refused to even blink.

Friday, May 28, 1675.

I need to find a job. At least, that's what I've been telling myself for the past five days.

The very idea of getting up and searching is draining, but so is putting a smile on as someone pops their head into my room (without knocking, mind you) and asking how I'm doing. To which I always respond with I'm fine.

I’m fine.

I have to be.

Monday, May 31, 1675.

No more heads have been poking into my room, not since I told them I was going to join the Fatui despite all the other places I applied and got accepted into. The looks I got when I told everyone over dinner, right after they all prayed, had been priceless. Completely, utterly, stupefied, and I had to keep myself from laughing.

At the very least, this new job will keep my mind distracted. I won't be able to sit at home staring at family photos from when I was younger and- all that matters is I can keep my mind distracted.

A busy mind is a good thing, keep it from wandering, so I intend to let it stay that way.

And lastly:

Friday, June 13, 1675.

Dottore traced his fingers over the date, one he knew well. Not that he'd willingly admit that. If anyone did dare to ask, they would be simply dismissed, waved away as Dottore tells them something along the lines of “I have no need to pay attention to anniversaries.”

The thirteenth of July. It was the first day she started working for him.

Dottore found himself walking back inside, journal tucked into his jacket to make sure Beauty wouldn't see it in case she was awake and sleepily tripping over her own two feet in an attempt to find him to drag him back to bed. The door to his steady swung open without so much as a creak and closed just as silently. Lock turning in place before Dottore sat down in the couch chair he so rarely used these days; not when she was always there nagging him about how it would give Dottore crooks in his neck if he fell asleep there one more time.

Her hands lingering on his shoulders and lips pressed to his mask…

Dottore pushed the wry grin that threatened to grow on his face down, opting to lean back into that same chair that threatened to swallow him into the cushions the same way the open book did its pages.

Devouring his attention.

Settling in had been…far from fun, but I unpacked what I needed for the night and left it at that; the rest can be dealt with later. Besides, compared to the day I had a few cardboard boxes barely mattered. After all, what could compare to meeting the elusive Lord Harbinger Il Dottore himself?

The endless white halls had already started to blur together, forming a maze in your head as you tried to map out each and every turn of a corner as you followed behind the man in front of you. The stray posters tacked up on the wall about lab safety barely differentiated one place from another, not even with their cheesy lines and reminders to use basic common sense. All you could rely on at the moment was the one dutifully leading you along, giving you a tour inside the depths of Zapolyarny Palace like it was nothing.

For him it surely must be.

But you were stuck watching the swing of his badge as every step you both took it moved back and forth, taunting you. It was in Snezhnayan, not common, meaning you were left glaring at symbols you couldn't understand all because you hadn't heard the man's name properly when he introduced himself after giving you a pair of safety glasses.

Lab mandated, apparently.

They would take time to get used to and you can already see yourself forgetting to take them off at the end of the day, but for now you were focusing on the tour you were being given as you chewed over the idea of just simply asking for his name again.

But by now, it felt a little too late to ask again. Even if it just was for clarifications sake.

The tapping of shoes came to a halt as you both stopped before a pair of open doors leading to a giant room. It was mostly bare, but it had three practice dummies close to the wall currently falling from the pikes they had been strung up. Keeling over onto the black stained floor beneath them covered in ash.

A lone boot print stood in the inky black, leaving a patch of white into the inky abyss.

And more boot prints trailed a path along the floor until they fully disappeared.

“And here is where we run physical trials for test subjects.” He shot you a look as he said: “but I don't think you'll be here much.”

You only nodded in response.

Another room came after another hall to add to your mental map you had long since lost track of as everything seemed to wander off into dead-end alleys and dark dungeons. All as the sound of rustling clothes filled your ears and mindless chatter about how working down here had been for him. Even in a place known as Heresy’s he managed to seem carefree as a door was pushed open to an archive.

Hand above your head to give you the chance to peek in to see stacks of books right from the moment the door swung open with a loud groan.

You could already see yourself spending far too much time in here as your eyes scanned over the seemingly endless rows, but you weren't given much of a chance to take it all in before you were on to the next stop.

You both passed by a few labs. Some seemed calmer than others, some had posters about safety lining the walls, but all of them had you pulling your head away only seconds after sticking it in the doorway to scrunch up your nose as the smell of disinfectant and other chemicals you couldn't place assaulted you.

For a moment, you heard your tour guide mutter a “bless you” as you sneezed (again) before walking on ahead to another sector of Heresy's.

One full of hustle and bustle as people in lab coats moved around the room with an ease that only came from knowing a space inside and out. Shuffling around giant crates, pieces of machinery you couldn't name but certainly recognized from a few constructions in Sumeru you had been told not to stray near, and steel tables all currently occupied with Fatui.

Faces hidden away by metal masks.

Just like the ones who openly walked around under the Tsarita's employ back home, never sparing you a glance.

The masks were only lifted away long enough for a light to be shined in their eyes, ones you always questioned as you passed them by on the streets or in Lambad's tavern, and then their faces were hidden away again. Blocked from sight so the individual fell away, and they once again belonged to the mass. To the service. To the worship of their beloved cryo Archon.

Would there be mercy in the eyes of the neighboring nations' people as they fulfill Her orders? Dutifully listening to whatever they're told simply because someone divine uttered a word or two.

The only thing that halted your train of thought with a resounding screech, breaks pulled back and forced to kick up sparks along well worn rails that lit your mind afire was the same man's voice who had been showing you around calling your name. All so your gaze could follow his pointed finger towards one figure in the room.

Pointing, pointing, and pointing towards a head of blue hair and a black mask.

Funny, you could have sworn you saw that same distinct shade in a few of the other sectors before you had been encouraged to keep up with the wave of a hand.

But the man at the other end of a finger and its broken nail was standing tall as everyone moved around him. A lone figure unbothered by the crowd that already had your shoulders tensing as someone passed behind you with a quick call of an “excuse me.”

“It's rude to point you know.” You said, trying to make a joke as you took everything in at once.

Between bustling figures was an earring like beryl only for it to glow the same way the flicker of a flaming torch lighting up the darkest of nights would, clothes ironed but clearly rumbled from today's work, and a mask with the gleam of burnished aluminum as this man stood before an occupied steel table. (You had later been told the correct term is vivisection table). A hand over a random Fatuus arm, checking for something or another with rippling skin as the limb was turned this way or that; discolored, but against the pale skin the bruises looked like the ice cold ocean you had sailed upon as a boat took you further and further away from your home.

You didn't even register your tour guide, saying that being rude was the least of your worries as that mask turned towards you. The end of its beak, birdlike as it was, stabbing at the air between you and who you could only guess was-

“Lord Harbinger Dottore.”

An arm was dropped, forgotten about with ease as Dottore himself moved to stand before you.

The man beside you bowed his head in respect, and you followed his example.

Head lowered, safety glasses sliding off your face and only stopping thanks to your ears as the sound of a multitude filled the air. All from a sentence so short it barely came across as a sign of acknowledgment.

“You must be the new hire.”

“I am.”

“I hope you prove your worth then. I would hate to have wasted my time bringing you here only to have a lack of results from bringing in a psychologist for my test subjects.” A pause. “But I am sure you understand. After all, you are only here temporarily. A trial run if you will.”

And as you looked up, meeting Dottore face to mask, all you could see was your own reflection staring back at you. Dark circles under your eyes from the lack of sleep you were able to get last night having tossed and turned in an unfamiliar bed before you slowly succumbed to the constant pull at your mind to let it all go.

To simply rest.

For humanity, after all the time you have sat back with a colored pen and a notebook in hand, it has spilled its secrets to you. That it is afflicted in every way; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.

And you could only say you long since stopped hoping for destruction to turn a blind eye to you.

“Well, I am honored to be here as a trail run, Lord Harbinger.”

You didn't miss the way his lips curled up, twisting to reveal pointed teeth as Dottore drawled out. “Good. Then we're on the same page."

[kaxenart]

Kaxen's BJD Hardcap Wigmaking 2024 Version

Pros of hard wig cap style:

The best method for short hairstyles (and I am a masochist who loves short swept-back hairstyles)

Are you the kind of person who gets tilted over lace front wigs having a line of extra net or not fitting your doll's forehead? This wig will fit and you can chop the wig cap even closer.

I hate hand sewing, so I never do sewn wefts with soft wigcaps, and sewn wefts don't work well for exposed hairlines so GLUE, GLUE, BABY.

Cons of hard wig cap style:

This wig will not fit on another doll unless it's maybe from the same company or has a really generic head-shape

Tools

Nonstick mat - Michaels sells Messy Mats which are very thin but stiff film mats that are nonstick. Silicone mats for pet bowls are often very cheap! A lot of craft-specific silicone mats have more price mark-up despite being the exact same thing.

Silicone spatula - for spreading glue. Just the generic silicone tools are fine. Comes in different sizes.

Glue of choice - Different glues react differently to different fibers and different colors. Pick whatever you like that has a slight flex to it and is waterproof once it's dry. If you prefer to style hair with high temperatures (especially the boiling water method), pick something that will resist high temps.

Glues I personally hate passionately: Beacon Adhesives Fabri-tac.

Why Fabri-tac sucks:

Smells terrible

Warps over time, wigs have literally stopped fitting the doll it was for

Rock hard when dry, literally the worst option for fabric???????????

Glue bottle cap always gets fucked up and useless.

Like jesus christ just get some fray check if you need fabric glue

Slicker brush: No matter how thorough you are with glue, you will have loose fiber. Comb it out. Buy two if you want to be able to have a poor man's wool carder so you can re-align fibers and use them later. WHY ARE WOOL CARDERS SO EXPENSIVE?

Fibers -

Suri alpaca: Very fine strands, low gloss, can use hair irons on it

Tencel: very fine strands, high gloss, can use hair irons on it, plant-based. Great for 1/6 scale and Anime Bullshit hair

Viscose (not pictured): very fine strands, high gloss, crinkles like hell if it gets wet, can use hair irons on it, plant-based

Silk (the silver wig lower down the post): very fine strands, high gloss, can use hair irons on it

Mohair: medium strands (thinner if it's kid mohair), high gloss, can use hair irons on it. Various levels of curly.

Synthetic: medium strands, high or low gloss depending on what you get, ymmv on hair irons check before hand how much temperature it can handle. Already made of plastic so plastic-y glue doesn't make it look weirder. Comes in the longest strands.

Wool roving (not pictured): fine strands, no gloss, doesn't really look like straight hair, but works well for styles like dreads.

Acrylic yarn (not pictured): fine strands, gloss level varies, cheap, but you pay in "spent all afternoon unraveling yarn to brush it out" MICROPLASTICS BAD.

I looked at combed mohair prices and it made me scared. How much fiber do I need?

1/3 heads (8-9in circumference): 1/2 oz is a comfortable amount for shorter styles and more the longer the hair will be

1/4 heads (6-7.5in circumference): 1/4-1/3 oz.

1/6 Mature tinies (3in circumference): 1/4 oz, the usual minimum order, will be a ton

Processing mohair yourself is cheaper, but it's a lot of cleaning and combing.

Making the wig base

Fabric base: sheer woven fabric or thin stretch fabrics (pantyhose, mesh hair nets, etc) in a color that does not clash too much with the skintone of your doll

The smaller the doll and the shorter the hair style (especially exposed hairlines!) the thinner you want to go to avoid seeing the wig cap too easily.

Cover the doll with plastic wrap, tighten the fabric as much as possible to mold to head, spread glue around so fabric will stay in this shape.

Putting rubber bands around ears helps shape.

Putting the fiber on

I'm pretty sure preparing wefts beforehand by gluing them on a nonstick mat and then cutting off pieces to stick on the wigcap is easier for exact placement, but I think that takes too long, so I just glue that straight on the wigcap.

I prefer not to use sewn wefts because I don't like that chunky line.

Work back to front and/or wherever the hair parts.

Hold up a small lock of hair and then use the silicone tool to swab a lil glue on it.

The smaller the doll, the smaller bundles you want to add the hair in so the bulk level isn't too crazy. Not as big of a deal for 1/3 scale dolls, the biggest deal with 1/6 dolls.

Hairline and hair parting methods

Rooting

I use the rooting tool from Dollyhair (but you can basically use any small hand tool with an adjustable chuck that can hold the rooting needle)

Pros:

Imitates growing hair

More versatile in styling options if you root a large sections of the wigcap because then the hair can flow in different directions without exposing which way it was glued

Cons:

Slow, the more realistic you want to go, the smaller each root plug should be. I use size 8 or size 6 needle on 1/3 dolls, but I could probably go smaller.

Tiny bits of hair and glue inside the gap may affect the fit of the wig cap.

Takes three billion years to dry the inside because you will swab glue on the inside of the wigcap and then smoosh the wig cap against plastic wrap on your doll's hair to keep the wig cap properly molded to your doll's head

Works terrible on mature tiny 1/6 wigs

TTRPG Mini Grass Style

Pros:

Fast, just put a daub of glue and slap a tuft on

Hair can be pushed in multiple directions without looking awkward

Cons:

Harder to do with longer hair and thicker fibers, may just tip over before the glue dries. Works better with short suri alpaca or tencel than mohair

Fold Over Method

Pros:

Easy!

Can hide wigcap edges

Cons:

Not realistic

Works worse with stiff fibers that may not lay flat after being folded over (may need heat treatment to work)

Ugly glue zone

Chopping the wig open to cram in fibers where the hair parting is

Pros:

Less ugly glue zone than the foldover method

Cons:

Margin for error for not warping the entire wig cap is not great! More risk than the rooting method.

Wildcard showing up with a steel chair! (mostly because this doesn't really need a separate post)

Flocking + painted edges

Pros:

Fast, swab on the adhesive and shake a ketchup bottle of fiber powder on it.

Useful for shaved hair

Cons:

Well, now you have Craft Herpes (glitter, fiber dust, y'know how it is...)

Not all doll sculptors have very flush headcap boundaries

Gotta redo the face-side of the flocking whenever you want to change the face-up

[magickkate]

Good day, witches! Let's talk about what not to burn in your magical practice. While fire is a powerful tool for transformation and manifestation, it's essential to use it responsibly and ethically. Here are a few things to avoid burning:

Plastic: Burning plastic releases toxic fumes and pollutants into the air, harming both you and the environment. Stick to natural materials like wood, paper, or herbs for your burnable offerings.

Synthetic Materials: Similarly, avoid burning synthetic fabrics, rubber, or other man-made materials. Stick to natural fibers and materials that can safely be incinerated without releasing harmful chemicals.

Toxic Herbs: Not all herbs are safe to burn. Some herbs can produce irritating or toxic smoke when burned, so do your research and make sure you're using safe and non-toxic herbs in your rituals. Do research what plants are unsafe or toxic to burn, especially if you have fur/scale/feather-babies.

Belladonna (Deadly Nightshade): Its name says it all. It’s lethal. Hemlock: Socrates sipped it; you shouldn’t. Foxglove: Pretty, but deadly. Mandrake: It won’t scream, but it’s still toxic.

Animal Products: Avoid burning animal products such as feathers, bones, or fur, especially if you're unsure of their source or ethical implications. Opt for cruelty-free and ethically sourced alternatives instead.

Sage, if used outside of its designated closed practice. Here's some alternatives

Cedar: Cleansing and grounding. Palo Santo: Sweet, fragrant, and eco-friendly. Rosemary: Purification powerhouse.

Remember, fire is a sacred element, so treat it with respect and reverence in your magical practice. Choose your offerings wisely and always prioritize safety and sustainability. 🔥🌿✨

[tulipanthousa]

not sure if this belongs here or on the sfw blog so I'll do it here to be safe

since Janus was like "hey I'm glad we have the twins but I never want to be pregnant again," the birth control question that got postponed in SBYF is now in my head again. what's the birth control situation like in Pieces verse? do they have condoms, or is it more along the lines of "track your periods and pray" lmao

also, is it different for nobles vs common folk? and what's the societal attitude towards using birth control in this universe?

(only if you want to answer + it's not a spoiler!)

i'm torn between this being a universe where the birth control plant the romans used exists and was not driven to extinction before it could be domesticated and made universally available

or just stretching the technology timeline a little farther and making hormonal birth control a thing - the first hormonal birth control was put on the market in 1960, and i normally stop off at 1950 max so its not that much of a stretch

either way, there is some kind of oral contraceptive involved. if i go with the pill, it would probably be like Enovid, an early birth control which had the prototypical 21 days of pills and 7 days of placebo, so it could be used in conjunction with the rhythm method (aka the tracking you mentioned)

and i think they probably do use condoms (commercially available since the 1860s, and animal-skin based diaphrams and the like have been recorded as far back as antiquity), but not every time, just during points in janus's cycle where he'd be theoretically ovulating, as an extra layer of protection. rubber would be the most historically accurate for a synthetic one, so i think they would probably go with skin. animal skin condoms are perfectly safe for fluid-bonded couples, they dont block STDs but niether of them have ever had sex with anyone else so thats not a concern, and also the idea of rubber touching business makes me wanna gag so i dont want to think about it aksjdhaksjdhkj

so while they are not super hardline at every possible avenue, they do become overall pretty careful.

as for whether or not janus would choose abort an oopsie baby, i feel like that plotline has an uncomfortable potential for either me accidentally getting preachy as fuck about reproductive rights in my fic, or inviting rancid discourse into my ask, so i dont plan on exploring it at any point. its not going to be a concern because theyre fictional and im writing it, but you can headcanon as you please (though i would prefer if you didnt send any especially inflammatory takes to my inbox)

[rulanarinrush]

very disjointed thoughts on ch2

Please note that this isn't a theory. While I talk about the likely culprits of this case, I'm not making any definitive statements about who the killer is. I state who I think the killer is, but like. It's probably wrong, anyway. We don't have that much information yet.

Please note that some stuff might be wrong because I haven't gone back and rewatched the entirety of drdt ch2. If there's something wrong in here you can let me know.

Let's start with the gym tape. While I've seen many people point that only Eden, Teruko(did not do it, assuming we have a reliable narrator) or Ace could have grabbed the gym tape, but I also think it's possible that Levi could have taken it. This is due to our limited view from Teruko's POV. When Ace is having his home invasion Open Up! breakdown in front of Nico's door, after Levi offers to help him with his neck, Ace has his little we no besties spiel and then goes to his room. I think this because we hear a door slam immediately afterwards. Is it possible he just ran to the infirmary? Yes, but we know the infirmary has a sliding door. If he closed the door that hard we hear a slam, considering how far apart the living quarters are from the infirmary, I'm quite impressed by how stable that sliding door is. He really has no other reason to go to any other room while his neck is bleeding. But notably, we hear Levi walk off before Teruko decides that it's time to let the plot pass. Where did he go? It's possible he just went to the infirmary, but we also don't know where Eden went. Maybe Eden followed him to the gym? Maybe she gave him the sticky tape because he wanted it for some reason?

I can't refute the idea that maybe someone was in their room and overheard everything, we know from the cactus scene that the rooms aren't soundproof, and then decided to pick up the gym tape later. I also can't refute the idea that Ace could still be Arei's killer due to again, the gym tape and the resistance band from like. I want to say episode 2 or 3? Sorry I'm too lazy to rewatch things I immediately can't remember. I also... don't remember if it actually is a resistance band, as I'm not well-versed in gym equipment(Teruko moment), but I want to say so. I think it's fairly obvious some sort of contraption, probably a pulley lever of some kind, was used to kill Arei due to the scuff marks on the playground equipment that are fairly straight that indicate that there was a rope tied to there, and the friction from the rope took the paint/created the scuff marks off as the water filled jugs with the fish in it had enough combined mass to create enough force to snap Arei's neck when she dropped(hence why the handles on the jug are broken), all this to say that the resistance band could have been used to bind everything together, as the synthetic rubber would be unlikely to break even when stretched a lot. In a show with a limited runtime, they're not gonna just drop a detail like "Ace has the resistance band" and not use it somehow now, or in a later chapter. chekhov's gun or smth like that i dunno

*

Let's talk the infirmary scene. I regret to tell you that my brain is made of sponge and I don't remember what day of ch2 Arturo decides to bend a full 60 degrees downward and threaten a girl only 13 inches taller than Levi's boobs, but I do remember that the conversation about Arturo's secret only happens before Arei intervenes. She does hear the tail end of it, which maybe means the killer decided to run a lap around the place and come back later once they saw Arei, but that... just does not make any sense to me. (So like, how would Arei have not caught someone else just eavesdropping in front of the infirmary? It's a sliding door without anything like a potted plant to hide behind). Basically, how does the killer know both that Eden has Arturo's secret and that Arei promised to do anything for Eden? I'll get to that later but I don't think that's a plot hole. I think this detail is actually extremely relevant and something Charles catches on to in his refutation of the crime.

It's also entirely possible that Eden's the killer and this is an irrelevant thing to bring up, but. We'll get to that later too. I wish I put in more than two seconds of thought before writing this.

*

Here I'd like to discuss the cliffhanger we were left on, aka Charles' refutation of the time. (Honestly, I don't even remember what time David was in the relaxation room, possibly rendering this entire write up moot but whatever...) Charles is an interesting character in a class trial because his perspective on the crime is going to be different from everyone else. Since he can't be looking at our strung up victim, he basically has to visualize the crime soon based on details orally told to him. In other words, he's less likely to make assumptions than even us as viewers. This is kind of awkward considering I just said he doesn't make assumptions but like. Consider, for a moment, what we've been assuming about this crime. So much of the 10th??? episode is based on the contents of the note. Now, I'm not going to say the note is completely irrelevant to the case. But why are we taking all the evidence left behind that the killer, who likely has no witnesses or at least has an accomplice that's helping them, at face value?

Why are we assuming that note isn't a fake piece of evidence, basically. Not in the sense that it's completely irrelevant, as I believe that note is going to be the killer's downfall ironically enough, but why are we assuming that Arei ever got that note at all? Who's to say that the killer didn't just write that note up after killing Arei, then tore it up and put in the trash so they'd have fewer people actually investigating the crime scene? It's an incredibly smart piece of misdirection actually, considering how good it was at breaking David's mind over the guilt he feels in "convincing" Arei to try to be a better person.

This is why I believe that there isn't a plot hole when it comes to the killer knowing both Arei's promise to Eden and that Eden has Arturo's secret. I believe that the crime never occurred at 7:30, sometimes either before or after that time, at the crime was a spontaneous one after a confrontation with Arei. If Arei divulged this information, it would explain a lot of things.

I acknowledge this is also a giant assumption that's probably wrong. Essentially, I'm imagining that Charles did what is kind of like a proof by contradiction(think the most common way of showing √2 is irrational) and he's putting all the evidence he knows together and thinking "if I assume this is wrong, do other things begin to make sense?" and if you think that the time is wrong, many other things about the case begin to fall into place.

I think a lot of the reason we take the note at face value is because of how straightforward the first trial was, and Min was under a lot of duress. Much of the evidence was extremely helpful at nailing her as the killer(the water especially) and I don't really consider the out of order sign to be fake evidence, since it made the light switch even more conspicuous. I was waiting for the reveal that Min gave the water to somebody only to find out that Min was the killer. Anyway, this is also why I don't think Eden or Arturo is the killer. Not in the sense that they have no motive, but like. If they were the killer, why on earth would you leave that note behind? Why wouldn't you eat the note cookie monster style or just flush it down the toilet? It's just paper. One of the key components of dr trials is trying to frame another person for your crime(like Min) because a "perfect crime" is essentially impossible in such a tight, cramped setting. Eden really has no reason to leave that behind, especially for a crime this good. It's just weird to me that you would set up this whole contraption(which i believe was done to give Arei the least amount of pain as possible because like. Why wouldn't you just bind her wrists and drown her in the relaxation room pond then? It saves you way more trouble than going fish scooping with the water. Death from spinal cord injuries generally??? cause near instant death) and then just assume "they're never gonna look through the trash" cuz like... okay... why even bother ripping it up then... why leave that there if you didn't want it to be found? It places too much suspicion on Eden.

That was a lot of yapping for what is essentially Charles' quote during the trial, "Are you simply saying you took the killer's Arei's words at face value?"

*

motives!! my favorite. (please pretend this is a good transition) i love thinking about how weirdly worded these are, and why is the mastermind so weirdly sympathetic to Xander? "Your family is dead and you deserve to feel bad about it you were a selfish little boy" essentially conveys the exact same thing and all the "boohoo, but it's not your fault" at the end (Xander is one of my favorite characters I'm just mean) is completely unnecessary in a motive. If you compare the wording of the motives, Xander's secret compared to Arturo's is like day and night. One absolves him of guilt, and the other places the blame on him. Sure, maybe the mm already knows Xander is dead so he's not gonna be tempted or whatever but there's still no reason for it to be so cozy.

Speaking of Xander's motive! I am someone that believes David is lying about receiving Xander's secret and that's Teruko's secret. A very unoriginal thought, considering Teruko straight up says Xander's secret is also missing, implicitly implying she doesn't believe David at all, but I'll explain why. I'm going to assume(lol) that all the names under the motives that have been revealed besides Xander's are correct. Too much mental gymnastics otherwise. So we have Teruko, Hu, Veronika, Levi, and Min. Despite what I said earlier, all the secrets are very carefully worded. Particularly, the secret talks about parents and siblings. Parents, as in two or more parents. Siblings, as in two or more. Let's knock off each candidate. Teruko only mentions knowing of an (older??? maybe i hallucinated this detail) brother. Why would she feel any guilt over any other siblings she maybe has? Next, Levi. I think in like episode 1, Levi mentions only his mother and brothers. So he's got the siblings part, but no two more parents. Min's parents I think??? Were probably implicitly implied to be alive in her bonus episode, at least before entering Hope's Peak. Hu and Veronika... ok I've got nothing other than "I think they have each other's secret."(Veronika's secret is very well foreshadowed I think and so is Hu's) That's not an argument at all but just roll with it.

So now. Whose motive did Arei get?

Ok this is not an original thought at all either. I think it's Levi's. There are plenty of other posts floating around this website and Twitter about Levi's suspicious behavior during the trial, the whole scene with him and Eden during episode 1, his weirdly violent tendencies, Arei glaring at him in initial motive giveaway, go look for those instead. They're much better written and much more concise and they deserve your support. If he didn't want Arei to suffer, if this murder was something triggered(I've noticed there are some parallels to the structure of the first dr game), this whole neck breaking thing makes way more sense.

He's also probably the only one that could knock Arei out quickly before she screamed without the use of turpentineagain^tm. If the killer used turpentine again I've got nothing against that either, it just makes Ace more suspicious.

I didn't know where to place this, and I know this thing is getting too long, but Hu is also very suspicious due to the wire used by Nico on Ace probably being hers. I've also got nothing for that other than "I think her arc has too much setup to blow up this early." Same with Ace.

*

anyway here's who i think is the most likely culprit

1 Levi

2 J/Ace

3 Hu/Whit

4 Eden/David

5 everyone else

when chapter 2 is over if i've left the fandom for some reason and even if i'm still here(probably) you are all allowed to send me pictures of clowns when I'm inevitably proven wrong. permission granted to be a little mean

[acti-veg]

Why don’t we make leather out of rubbers since rubber is a organic material that comes from plants

Recycled rubber is used by some faux leather manufacturers, especially combined with pineapple fibre to make it tougher. The issue with rubber is that it takes a long time to break down, a lot of commercially available rubber is synthetic now too, rather than plant-based.

I don’t know a lot about textiles, but from what I can read, it seems rubber is too difficult to work with for use as a sole material, and is more often used to reinforce other materials - cow leather manufacturers use rubber for that purpose too, particularly for the bottom of shoes and bags.

[raindropsandleaves]

[robotblues]

Synthetic rubber plant (1961) // Edward Bawden

[pattysplaceofplaces]

April Foolery 

Mime Bomb & Paper Star x Gn Reader

     Most people didn’t consider April 1st to be anything special. You pull a small prank and you move on with your life. 

If you’re on VILE island though…it’s best to watch your back. Mime Bomb and Paper Star celebrated this holiday more than they would Christmas or anything of that sort. From recruits, to friends, to enemies, to faculty, no one was spared. 

Well except for you. 

“Y/n!” That screech caused you to look away from the tv in VILE island’s lounge room. “Put your dogs on a leash!” Sheena stomped in, hands in shaky fists out of anger and fear. You tried to not laugh at the rubber spiders and worms in her hair and shoulders. “Chill out.” You let a giggle slip through. “It’s just a prank, they would never do anything dangerous.” She took one synthetic worm out of her hair and threw it at you. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who has to deal with this every year!” 

Instead of countering you went quiet. “Uh…” How do you go about this without making her freak out? “One of the spiders is moving.” The blonde scoffed, crossing her arms. “Yeah right, like I’m going to fall for that.” 

A snicked caused you to look behind you to see your contrasting lovers, one in color and the other monotone. “They’re right kitty cat.” Paper Star smiled as she pointed to the top of her head. “It’s payback.” Sheena went pale and a shaky hand came up to the top of her head. She felt it crawl on her hand and a screech was let out as she ran down the hall. “GetitoffGetitoff!” You and Paper Star burst into laughter, if you strained your ears you could hear an amused chuckle from Mime Bomb. 

One of your arms rested on the back of the couch as your upper body turned to face them both. “Looks like you guys decided to be merciless this time.” Both of them smiled proudly at what they knew was your praise. “Oh we didn’t stop there.” Paper Star sat on the couch beside you while Mime Bomb was on your other side nodding. 

He had your attention when he placed three fingers up, then two, then one. 

The scream you heard was Coach Brunt’s, then the sound of what was probably walls or objects being crushed under her. The Coach never seemed to be a big fan of you and when you got together with your lovers her subtle torment got worse. It was nice to know she was suffering. You wondered what prank your super thieves could have caused. 

You didn’t have to wait any longer as thumping footsteps became closer. “When I get my hand on you little creeps you’re going to be sorry!” On her arrival you burst out in laughter, clutching your stomach. You already knew your cheeks were going to hurt from smiling from your lover’s shenanigans. There was the Coach in all her “glory.” With piss yellow hair and a matching tracksuit. Judging by the water droplets on her hair they must have put it in her towel, you wonder how they found the time to replace all her tracksuits though. 

It did make you realize just how skilled your lovers were, breaking into faculty private rooms which had very heavy security. If they truly wanted to do something destructive they could. 

Kisses were planted on both of your cheeks as they stood up and ran to escape Coach Brunt’s wrath. Before he exited the room Mime Bomb tossed something to you. Some fancy little chocolates! How cute! You opened them up only to find the package had lied to you as it was a vanilla instead. 

You weren’t spared this time. 

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Brazil’s Lula’s promises to end deforestation face challenges from traditional rubber tappers

When Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva is sworn in as president of the second most populous country in the western hemisphere Jan. 1, few challenges will be greater than fulfilling his promise to end all deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon by 2030.

To understand why, consider the vastly different visions of three daughters from one family of rubber tappers who live on a large reserve in the western state of Acre. The reserve is forest protected in the name of the legendary rubber tapper leader and environmentalist Chico Mendes.

Luzineide da Silva is a third-generation rubber tapper. One of her daughters wants to follow in her footsteps and make a living from the family fields, rubber trees and Brazil nuts, the other two want to cut down the forest, plant grass and run cattle.

“My eldest daughter was dazzled when she took part in a livestock training course. She learned how to produce beef and cheese and even drive a tractor. That changed her worldview,” said da Silva at the end of a day tending her corn, pumpkin, watermelon, banana and gherkin crops under a scorching sun. “She said: ‘Mom, everyone who raises cattle has a car, a good life and attends private colleges, whereas I can’t afford veterinary school.'”

It’s the same with other families. In the past two decades, many rubber tappers have gradually abandoned the vision of Mendes, who fiercely opposed deforestation by big cattle ranchers.

The forest defender was shot dead in his tiny home in Xapuri city here in Acre in December 1998. A local farmer had ordered the killing. The international outcry that followed led to the creation of “extractive reserves” across the Amazon, a type of federal conservation unit where forest communities could live their traditional lives protected from land-robbing.

Classic rubber tapping is done by slicing grooves into the bark of rubber trees and collecting the latex that oozes out. But that artisanal rubber has fallen into decline over decades, a casualty of synthetic rubber made in chemical factories or rubber grown on plantations.

Finding few opportunities elsewhere, many locals cut down trees and turned to cattle as a more reliable income than seasonal forest products, such as Brazil nuts. Cattle became Acre’s most important economic activity.

In the last four years, this trend of converting forest into pasture reached unprecedented levels under far-right President Jair Bolsonaro.

Continue reading.

[flowerishness]

Solidago canadensis (Canada goldenrod) and Bombus (bumblebee)

During World War 1, rubber was recognized as a strategic commodity as supplies ran short in the industrial world. The U.S. imported rubber from Southeast Asia and the East Indies. In the 1920′s, Thomas Edison began his search for a home-grown source of rubber. 

The rubber tree, Hevea brasiliensis, is not the only source of latex rubber and after testing more than 17,000 plant samples, Edison decided on goldenrod with a yield of about five per cent latex. Edison selected the varieties that seemed to have the most potential, divided the roots, planted them separately, divided them again, and started crossbreeding. It was time-consuming; but a giant goldenrod about fourteen feet tall yielding about twelve per cent latex was ultimately developed.

Henry Ford and Harvey Firestone became interested and put big money into the project. Vast fields of goldenrod were planted, processing factories were built and goldenrod tires were introduced to the market in 1929. Unfortunately, 1929 was not a good year for business in general and the invention of the synthetic rubber Neoprene (made from petroleum byproducts) in 1931, doomed this fledgling industry. During World War 2, German synthetic rubber factories were specifically targeted by Allied bombers.

[kimberly40]

Goldenrod Magical Uses and Folklore:

Various legends tie goldenrod to the presence of wealth. One source said that, wherever goldenrod grows, gold is buried. Another says that to find goldenrod growing near your home portends a spell of good luck.

Goldenrod is also tied to water. Folklore holds that, wherever it grows, a spring must be nearby. The plants were also used as effective, if temperamental, divining rods — they were said to only work in the hands of the right person.

One legend tells the story of how goldenrod received its bright yellow flowers. An old woman, traveling through the forest, was growing weary. She asked all of the trees around her for a walking stick, but they refused. She found a small stick on the ground, and asked it for help instead. The stick agreed, and she used it as a walking stick until she was out of the woods. As soon as she stepped beyond the tree line, she shed her disguise — revealing herself as a powerful fairy. In return for the stick’s help, she sprinkled it with gold.

Another story speaks of two little girls who went to an old witch for help. One girl, tall and blonde haired, asked the witch to grant her wish. She wanted to be admired by everyone. Her friend, short and blue-eyed, wished that she and the blonde girl would never have to grow apart. The girls were never seen again after that day, but it’s said that, wherever they walked, there sprung up the yellow goldenrod and the blue aster.

This isn’t folklore so much, but the tires on the Model T Ford that Henry Ford gave Thomas Edison were made of goldenrod. The plant naturally contains a decent amount of rubber — through experimentation, Thomas Edison managed to produce a taller goldenrod that was up to 12% rubber. He partnered with Henry Ford, George Washington Carver, and Henry Firestone to put these tires into mass production, but synthetic rubber arrived on the scene before goldenrod tires ever made it out of the experimental stage.

Goldenrod is one of those plants that seems to be an herbal pharmacy in itself. In America, indigenous people used the leaves externally for skin conditions, and internally for ulcers and lung or kidney problems. After colonists dumped tea into the Boston Harbor in protest, they used goldenrod as a tea substitute.

Studies in Germany have found that it’s an effective treatment for kidney stones. It contains compounds that encourage urination, reduce inflammation, soothe pain, and kill pathogens, and the whole plant is edible (though easily confused with toxic Haplopappus heterophyllus, so be careful).

(From Marble Crow)

[greenwolverine]

### Eco-Friendly Shoes: Walking Towards a Sustainable Future

In recent years, the fashion industry has witnessed a significant shift towards sustainability, with eco-friendly shoes emerging as a crucial component of this movement. These shoes not only reduce environmental impact but also promote ethical practices, setting a new standard for the industry. In this article, we delve into the concept of eco-friendly shoes, exploring their benefits, the materials used, and the innovations driving their popularity.

#### Understanding Eco-Friendly Shoes

Eco-friendly shoes are designed with a focus on minimizing environmental harm. This involves using sustainable materials, reducing waste during production, and ensuring ethical labor practices. The aim is to create footwear that is not only stylish and comfortable but also environmentally responsible.

#### The Benefits of Eco-Friendly Shoes

One of the primary benefits of eco-friendly shoes is their reduced carbon footprint. Traditional shoe manufacturing processes often involve significant emissions and waste. In contrast, sustainable shoes utilize eco-conscious methods, resulting in lower greenhouse gas emissions and less pollution.

Additionally, eco-friendly shoes often prioritize fair labor practices. This means that workers involved in the production process are treated fairly, with safe working conditions and fair wages. By supporting brands that adhere to these principles, consumers can contribute to a more equitable and just fashion industry.

#### Materials Used in Eco-Friendly Shoes

The materials used in eco-friendly shoes are critical to their sustainability. Commonly, these include natural fibers, recycled materials, and innovative alternatives to traditional components.

1. **Natural Fibers**: Materials such as organic cotton, hemp, and bamboo are popular choices for eco-friendly shoes. These fibers are biodegradable, require fewer pesticides during cultivation, and have a lower environmental impact compared to conventional materials.

2. **Recycled Materials**: Many eco-friendly shoes incorporate recycled materials, such as recycled rubber, plastic bottles, and old textiles. By repurposing these materials, manufacturers can reduce waste and conserve natural resources.

3. **Innovative Alternatives**: In recent years, there has been a surge in the development of innovative materials for sustainable footwear. For example, Piñatex, made from pineapple leaf fibers, and Mycelium, derived from mushroom roots, are gaining traction as viable alternatives to leather and synthetic fabrics.

#### Innovations in Sustainable Footwear

The eco-friendly shoe market is continuously evolving, with new technologies and practices emerging to enhance sustainability. Some notable innovations include:

1. **3D Printing**: This technology allows for precise manufacturing, reducing material waste and energy consumption. Brands are utilizing 3D printing to create custom-fit shoes, improving comfort and extending the lifespan of the footwear.

2. **Biodegradable Soles**: Traditional shoe soles can take hundreds of years to decompose. Biodegradable soles, made from materials like natural rubber and plant-based polymers, break down much faster, reducing environmental impact.

3. **Circular Economy**: Some brands are adopting circular economy principles, where shoes are designed to be easily disassembled and recycled at the end of their life. This approach minimizes waste and encourages the reuse of materials.

#### The Future of Eco-Friendly Shoes

As consumer awareness of environmental issues grows, the demand for eco-friendly shoes is expected to increase. Brands are responding by investing in sustainable practices and materials, leading to a more diverse and innovative market.

Moreover, collaborations between fashion brands and environmental organizations are becoming more common. These partnerships aim to promote sustainability and drive positive change within the industry. For example, some brands are partnering with NGOs to plant trees for every pair of shoes sold, offsetting their carbon footprint.

In the future, we can expect to see even more advancements in sustainable footwear. Research into new materials, such as algae-based foams and lab-grown leather, holds promise for creating shoes that are both eco-friendly and high-performance.

#### How to Choose Eco-Friendly Shoes

When shopping for eco-friendly shoes, there are several factors to consider:

1. **Material**: Look for shoes made from sustainable materials, such as organic cotton, recycled plastics, and innovative alternatives like Piñatex.

2. **Production Practices**: Research the brand's manufacturing processes to ensure they prioritize sustainability and ethical labor practices.

3. **Certifications**: Certifications such as Fair Trade, Global Organic Textile Standard (GOTS), and the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) can provide assurance that the shoes meet high environmental and ethical standards.

4. **Durability**: Choose shoes that are well-made and durable, reducing the need for frequent replacements and minimizing waste.

5. **Brand Transparency**: Support brands that are transparent about their sustainability efforts and practices. Many companies now publish detailed reports on their environmental impact and goals.

#### Conclusion

Eco-friendly shoes represent a vital step towards a more sustainable future. By choosing footwear that prioritizes environmental and ethical considerations, consumers can make a positive impact on the planet and support responsible brands. As the market continues to grow and innovate, eco-friendly shoes are becoming more accessible and diverse, offering stylish and sustainable options for every wardrobe. Embrace the change and take a step in the right direction with eco-friendly shoes.

In conclusion, the journey towards sustainable footwear is both exciting and essential. As we become more conscious of our environmental footprint, the choices we make in our daily lives, including the shoes we wear, play a crucial role. By supporting brands that prioritize sustainability and ethical practices, we contribute to a healthier planet and a more equitable society. Let us all walk towards a greener future, one step at a time, with eco-friendly shoes leading the way.

[notwiselybuttoowell]

It can often feel like you need a PhD in material science just to understand the textiles that appear on garment care labels. While natural fibres including wool and cotton are pretty easy to identify, synthetics such as polyester and viscose can be harder to decode.

Generally speaking, human-made materials fall into one of two categories: those derived from fossil fuels and those derived from chemically processed cellulose (the building block of plants).

Fossil fuel-based fibres

Polyester

Polyester is the most common fibre on the planet, making up over half of the overall fibre market. It is a type of plastic called polyethylene terephthalate or PET which is moulded into yarn then woven into a fabric.

Dr Georgia McCorkill, a fashion lecturer at RMIT, says fossil fuels are the basis of the chemicals that make PET, so from an environmental and sustainability standpoint, their origins are already problematic. Since plastic does not so much biodegrade as split into smaller and smaller pieces (it was only invented last century, so we can’t really know how long it will hang around), polyester is also problematic when it is washed, as it can shed microplastics into waterways and at the end of a garment’s life.

“In an ideal world [polyester] would exist in a closed-loop system where it would be perpetually melted down and reformed into new fabrics,” says McCorkill. “However the design, production and waste recovery systems required to make this a reality don’t exist.”

Recently, there has been a push towards recycled polyester – which uses plastic bottles as an input – instead of virgin resources. While recycled polyester has a lower carbon footprint than conventional polyester, it is not a perfect solution. Turning plastic bottles into new plastic bottles is more efficient than recycling them into polyester, and it can be done on a loop. Current methods for turning plastic into polyester at scale do not result in a material that can be recycled again post-use.

McCorkill says polyester is an extremely strong material and can be necessary in activewear, sportswear or outdoor gear. But, she says, “polyester can get very smelly over time and become unwearable”. This is because it clings to odour and stains, making them impossible to remove.

Nylon

Like polyester, nylon is also a plastic derived from fossil fuels but it is more expensive to make and therefore used less frequently. It makes up about 11% of the clothing fibre market. Since nylon is stretchier and stronger than polyester, it is often found in swimwear and yoga gear.

Manufacturing nylon releases nitrous oxide into the atmosphere, contributing to global heating, and because nylon is a plastic it won’t biodegrade. The founder of Cloth & Co, Caroline Poiner, suggests looking for recycled alternatives such as Econyl that are made with recovered waste products, including fishing lines and other waste pulled from the ocean.

Unlike recycled polyester, recycled nylon can be regenerated into new nylon more than once, provided it has not been blended with other fibre types.

Elastane

The other fossil fuel-based fibre you’ll often encounter on a garment care label is elastane (also called spandex or Lycra). It is commonly blended with other fibres to provide added stretch (it can expand and recover up to five times its own length).

This elasticity makes it similar to rubber. But while natural rubber or elastic is derived from trees, elastane is derived from polyurethane and will not biodegrade. While elastane’s capacity for stretch and recovery makes it very useful in athletic gear and underwear, when exposed to heat or too much strain, its elasticity will degrade over time.

Man-made cellulosic fibres

Viscose rayon is the umbrella term for fibres manufactured from cellulose, but as many fibres fall into this broad category, it can be very confusing. The list includes rayon, viscose, modal, lyocell, acetate, bamboo and cupro. Aside from cupro, which is made from cotton waste, all of these materials are derived from wood pulp.

Poiner warns that although bamboo and the like are often marketed on their eco credentials, it can be “comparable to synthetic fibres in its impact on the environment and also the health and wellbeing of workers."

Sourcing viscose rayon has historically been linked to deforestation, and even now the environmental not-for-profit Canopy estimates that of the 200m trees cut down each year to make viscose, at least half come from ancient or endangered forests. If you want to be sure these fabrics have been sustainably sourced, look for FSC or PEFC certifications.

The process of turning wood or cotton waste into a fabric “requires highly toxic chemicals in its production”, says Poiner, who notes some manufacturers choose factory sites where they can avoid strict health and safety regulations.

Less harmful cellulose fabrics are manufactured using a closed-loop system, that recovers and reuses toxic solvents. EcoVero and Tencel are types of lyocell, trademarked by fabric giant Lenzing, which are made using best practice pulp-sourcing and chemical management during the production process.

There are also exciting innovations in this space, with new types of viscose rayon made using agricultural, food or clothing waste as a source material instead of trees, however these are not yet widely available.