i try to break up with plastic

heaven is a zero-waste store

“When reusing pickle jars for other stuff, how do you remove the pickle smell???” I blurt out. I’m sitting down with Sarah Levy in front of Cleenland, a zero-waste store I’m obsessed with.

Of all the questions I could ask her about helping people avoid plastic, this is the one that haunts me. I have a feeling that she gets this question a lot.

“Wash them and leave them out in the sun without the lid to deodorize,” she says. Now, I can sleep at night.

“Or don’t use a pickle jar??” This I refuse to hear because I love using the most impractical containers for bulk refills.

Levy founded Cleenland in 2019, as a “one-stop shop for low-waste, refillable personal and home care supplies.” Growing up in a frugal household, Levy lived through the militant early days of the zero-waste movement. I too remember when people were obsessed with fitting all of their trash into glass jars and trying to go a whole year without buying plastic.

The message about plastic waste was important, but Levy found the delivery “deeply performative.”

The genius of Cleenland lies in its focus on necessities. They sell bar shampoo, recycled trash bags, menstrual cups, and plenty of hygiene and cleaning products you simply can’t live without. It’s a fun store with an eclectic audience.

Levy is amazed at the lengths that shoppers will go to reuse their most prized jars and bottles for things like body butter or, say, soap. “One time, a customer brought in a Jim Beam nip to refill with our hand soap,” she says. I challenge my readers to propose a more creative container for refills than that.

Cleenland takes a “low-waste, no shame” approach to sustainable products, but it’s much more than a store. It is a proverbial watering hole for others wondering how to get off the single-use plastic hampster wheel.

Their employees always greet me with a smile, ready to clarify that yes, traditional condoms are bad for the environment and yes, the organic ones are just as effective (the employees test all products). They are ready to weigh in on the plastic straw culture wars and lend a sympathetic ear when I admit that I tried tablet toothpaste and didn’t like it that much.

This is refreshing to me, as someone who has occupied spaces that define sustainability as zero-sum: You are either a selfless eco-fairy who bathes in rainwater or a wasteful gremlin who remembers their reusable grocery tote only two percent of the time.

“We’re all holding this tension between our individual choices and the broader system that we live in,” Levy says. “We can’t afford to overthink every choice we make, but maybe we can commit to a handful of intentional ones.”

Embracing this balanced approach to sustainability also extends to Levy’s personal life. She hardly buys new clothes and though she owns a car, prefers to ride her bike around the city. She consumes very little meat but isn’t vegetarian. Instead of seeking perfection, she reflects. “I regularly ask myself ‘Does this meal require meat?’ Often, the answer is ‘no.’”

I’m convinced running Cleenland is the coolest job in the world, but it’s a grind like any small business. Part of Levy’s work as founder includes payroll, admin, and tending to an endless stream of emails (like mine, hi Sarah!). Before she hired employees, it was Levy hauling her bulk containers to farmer’s markets in 95-degree heat. Now, it’s her team pulling up to an abandoned parking lot to unload 500 pounds of dish detergent from a wholesale distributor.

I imagine Levy experiences “eco-euphoria,” a term I made up to describe that fuzzy feeling you get from doing something good for the planet. It is the opposite of “eco-anxiety,” and exceedingly rare. I last felt this way when I managed to find one native plant at my local plant store, for use in a pollinator garden I’m starting this summer. I’m hopeful I’ll feel this way again, visiting Cleenland, and thinking of other ways to break up with single-use plastic.

I often joke about the obscure— and, downright weird—materials found in “green” products (this ‘peecycling’ operation really took me out), but the pursuit of low or no-waste alternatives is exceedingly worthwhile.

For those in the Boston area, go check out Cleenland on Norfolk Street or similar stores across the country.

me trying to break up with plastic

Editors Note: I receive no payment for the stores or products I feature in my newsletter! Is there a sustainable product or Boston-area store you would like me to spotlight? Let me know via email: paigeycurtis[at]gmail.com