Rediscovering old values

Americans are rediscovering the fusty fix-it shops and unassuming second-hand stores on their local Main Streets. These businesses, once the left-behind nooks of gentrifying downtowns, are busier than ever amid an economic slump that's emptied out neighbouring bistros, boutiques, and day spas.

On a Saturday afternoon in downtown Alameda, California, Gabe Morgan waits in a line of customers at The Watch Hospital to get a timepiece fixed. The economic downturn has made him think more about repairing than buying new.

"For the first time in I don't remember how long, I got some shoes repaired," says Morgan. He dug out three pairs from his closet for resoling. "I wanted to save some money."

For decades, repair and reuse have been fading ethics, upheld mainly by environmentalists and people on the economic margins. As hard times drive these values back into the mainstream, champions of reuse caution that some government policies and business practices threaten to set back the movement.

"We were a mend-and-make-do society, and we have completely changed. We don't fix anything anymore. We use, throw away, and buy more," says Bruce Buckelew, a former IBM engineer who has repaired more than 30,000 computers and put them into public schools, nonprofits, and low-income households in Oakland, California. "The worse the stock market gets and the bleaker the job market, the better for reuse, actually."

"This week has been really good," says Anne Hartford, owner of Maribel, an Oakland store selling used designer clothes. She hasn't seen a drop in sales from the previous year, while two of her friends who run other businesses have been forced to close shop recently.

Though many thrift stores and secondhand shops are thriving, they nonetheless operate on the economic margins. That can be a difficult place to be when it comes to regulation. The federal Consumer Product Safety Improvement Act that goes into effect on February 10, for instance, requires businesses that sell children's products to prove that their wares meet safety standards for lead content. Initially, that included resale, thrift, and consignment stores, who objected on grounds that they could not afford to test all the items from all the manufacturers whose products landed on their shelves.

The stores would have had "to clean out their inventory [of children's products] because they have no way of proving that it's below the lead standard," says Adele Meyer, NARTS executive director.

Last week, vociferous outcry from thrift stores prompted federal regulators to reconsider. The shops no longer will be required to certify that goods for children younger than 12 meet the lead standard, but neither are they permitted to sell items in violation, leaving them in a murky gray legal zone.

It's one of many ways in which policy and market oversights vex this less-visible segment of the economy. Another looming problem: replaceable parts.

"What's different from the last time we had a recession is that a lot of the products are not repairable because parts are not made for them - they are considered disposable," says Vicky Evans, owner of Phil's Electric Centre in San Francisco, which fixes everything from vacuums to countertop appliances.

The imminent national switchover to digital television represents another challenge for reuse and could send a lot of televisions to the landfill.

While the Federal Communications Commission is offering coupons to offset the cost of converter boxes for older televisions, the programme is poorly designed for low-income people who need the coupons most, says Buckelew.

Mailing away for coupons isn't convenient and the online application is not accessible for everyone, he says. The government has already run out of funding for additional coupons, and few stores are selling cheap converters, he adds.