Use It Up, Wear It Out, Make It Do, Or Do Without!

Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without! That was the oft repeated advice my parents heard as they were growing up in the 1930s and 1940s. The one-two punch of the Great Depression followed by World War II raised frugality from a virtue to an art form. The stories I heard from my parents and grandparents of “hard times” were always softened by the addition of, “…but we had it pretty good compared to a lot of people.” More influential than stories were the small economies that continued to be a part of their lives. My grandmother carefully saved “tin foil,” spreading it out, washing it off, and folding it carefully. I never knew whether she reused it, or eventually took bales of it to the scrapyard. Each kitchen had a ball of string, and every garage or shop had dozens of baby food jars of saved screws, nails, and other hardware.  

During WWII my mother was a bank teller in Ashland, KY. Part of her job was being the “sugar girl.” She handled all the commercial sugar rationing for the bank. I’ve heard the stories about Dad being able to get a second pair of shoes because he worked for the railroad, an industry vital to national security and the war effort. I was born a few months after the Korean Conflict ended, making me a boomer baby. But that “use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without” attitude influenced me in sometimes unexpected and inexplicable ways. Do you have a button jar? I do. I can’t remember the last time I used a button from it though.

A couple of years ago the bottom fell out of the economy and the Green Movement began to gain momentum again. Immediately America’s entrepreneurs created a Green Industry, selling biodegradable everything, usually at exorbitant prices. When we re-opened Vancheries Union Ave. Café, I agonized over the purchase of “to-go containers.” Once again, we needed to be extremely frugal in order to make a go of the business. I remember standing in the restaurant supply aghast that biodegradable containers are five times more expensive than Styrofoam. Not twice as much, FIVE times as much!

As I drove home from the restaurant supply pretty bummed, I began to hear the voices of my parents and grandparents: “Use it up, Wear it out, Make it do, or do without.” Yes, it’s a shame that some of these products have priced themselves out of the market. But everything’s a balance. Although I can’t justify the price of biodegradable “to-go containers,” I can purchase the restaurant’s china from charity thrift stores, providing a double blessing by reusing existing resources and supporting local charities. And there are dozens of other ways to help Mother Earth without going bankrupt in the process.

I suspect that many of us who remember the Depression Generation and the Greatest Generation also remember the many ways those generations saved, reused, recycled, long before it was “in.” They called it survival. Can you imagine Americans submitting to rationing now? Or pulling together by collecting resources for a “war effort?” I hope we never see the need for either of these, but I do think the folks who experienced them have lots to teach us if we will only listen.

What lessons did you learn from the Depression and WWII generations?

How are you helping the environment?