
There's history in that old pair of cargo pants
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
The small hole on the seam gave pause. I realised this faithful pair of cargo pants had lasted longer than World War II. Their roomy pockets carried the daily essentials. Phone, wallet, glasses, notebook and pen were all accommodated. Even the tiny drone for sneaky aerial snapshots.
I've lived in them for years, through overseas adventures and chores in the garden, through fire and flood. And, once that hole is patched, I'll live in them for a few more. They're the polar opposite of fast fashion. Indeed, they're not fashionable at all. But for practicality and durability, they can't be beaten.
They weren't cheap but their longevity confirms the old adage that you get what you pay for. They also point to the false economy that is fast fashion.
Clothing waste is a global issue. In Australia alone, we produce about 300,000 tonnes of it each year. Some is recycled, some is exported but a lot of it ends up in landfill.
The fashion industry is responsible for about 10 per cent of the microplastics which end up in our oceans. It accounts for about 20 per cent of the world's wastewater. Earth.org estimates the water required to make one T-shirt in enough to slake one person's thirst for 900 days.
In Chile's Atacama Desert, the mountain of discarded clothing is so huge, it's visible from space. A lot of it comes from the US, where it's estimated a garment is worn only seven to 10 times on average before it's discarded. That's a reduction in, say, a shirt's lifespan of 35 per cent in 15 years.
Stumbling on this information reminded me of a face-palm moment in the newsroom some years ago.
A young reporter was agonising over what to wear to an upcoming social event.
"Didn't you buy a new dress a couple of weeks ago?" I asked her.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly wear that," she replied. "I've already socialled it." A handful of Instagram likes and the frock was made redundant.
A riffle through my wardrobe revealed a snapshot of recent history. Gone were the pre-COVID business shirts and ties, the suits and the shiny shoes - thanks to working from home, the corporate armour is now superfluous. In their place, a colourful collection of Hawaiian shirts, shorts and one linen suit bought on a whim from a tailor in Thailand for summer. Sweaters and coats for winter.
And cargo pants.
Apart from the Hawaiian shirts, which get a couple of workouts a year in Asia, and a toasty warm, safety yellow parka bought for me as a present, every item is getting on and yet I feel no compulsion to replace them.
Not even the same type of cargo pants as the old trusties, recently offered at a discount, could sway me. Vowing instead to patch the hole, I realised I've embraced slow fashion. And that's liberating.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Do you have a favourite item of clothing you've worn for years? Is quality more important than price? As you've grown older, have you changed your clothes burying habits? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- A man has been taken into custody as part of an investigation into the whereabouts of missing teenager Pheobe Bishop, almost three weeks after her "suspicious" disappearance.
- Independent Nicolette Boele has claimed the last remaining seat of the federal election after winning a closely fought recount for the Sydney electorate of Bradfield.
- A shaky public spending handover has stalled Australia's post-COVID-19 recovery, with economic growth slowing to 0.2 per cent in the first three months of the year.
THEY SAID IT: "Buy less. Choose well. Make it last. Quality, not quantity. Everybody's buying far too many clothes." - Vivienne Westwood
YOU SAID IT: The best winter escape, wrote John, is a pile of good books.
Grant has some kind words: "I don't know if you're writing the Great Australian Novel but your beautiful and evocative account of the joys of winter indicates you should! Your respectful use of our language is appreciated, and should be shared on a broader canvas."
Jan is reading Flinders by Grantlee Kieza, about the exploits of Matthew Flinders. She, too, has noticed winter changing: "Winter is rapidly becoming all too brief as the years go by. I love the reprieve from the stifling, relentless and parching heat of summer and the (albeit diminishing) promise of snow in the mountains not too far away. In 2024, we had four weeks of barely usable snow cover instead of the traditional four months of a decade or more ago."
Ancient Rome has Ros captivated. Like John, she is engrossed in a Tom Holland history, Rubicon, about the decline of the Roman republic: "It is chilling indeed to see the clear parallels between the dying days of the Roman Republic and what is happening in a contemporary Republic with worldwide influence and impact."
Ian reads all year round, for at least an hour a day. "At the moment, I'm halfway through Mawson by Peter FitzSimons. A beautifully written and rollicking yarn, it is best appreciated being read in the middle of a Canberra winter with the heating turned off and all the windows open."
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
The small hole on the seam gave pause. I realised this faithful pair of cargo pants had lasted longer than World War II. Their roomy pockets carried the daily essentials. Phone, wallet, glasses, notebook and pen were all accommodated. Even the tiny drone for sneaky aerial snapshots.
I've lived in them for years, through overseas adventures and chores in the garden, through fire and flood. And, once that hole is patched, I'll live in them for a few more. They're the polar opposite of fast fashion. Indeed, they're not fashionable at all. But for practicality and durability, they can't be beaten.
They weren't cheap but their longevity confirms the old adage that you get what you pay for. They also point to the false economy that is fast fashion.
Clothing waste is a global issue. In Australia alone, we produce about 300,000 tonnes of it each year. Some is recycled, some is exported but a lot of it ends up in landfill.
The fashion industry is responsible for about 10 per cent of the microplastics which end up in our oceans. It accounts for about 20 per cent of the world's wastewater. Earth.org estimates the water required to make one T-shirt in enough to slake one person's thirst for 900 days.
In Chile's Atacama Desert, the mountain of discarded clothing is so huge, it's visible from space. A lot of it comes from the US, where it's estimated a garment is worn only seven to 10 times on average before it's discarded. That's a reduction in, say, a shirt's lifespan of 35 per cent in 15 years.
Stumbling on this information reminded me of a face-palm moment in the newsroom some years ago.
A young reporter was agonising over what to wear to an upcoming social event.
"Didn't you buy a new dress a couple of weeks ago?" I asked her.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly wear that," she replied. "I've already socialled it." A handful of Instagram likes and the frock was made redundant.
A riffle through my wardrobe revealed a snapshot of recent history. Gone were the pre-COVID business shirts and ties, the suits and the shiny shoes - thanks to working from home, the corporate armour is now superfluous. In their place, a colourful collection of Hawaiian shirts, shorts and one linen suit bought on a whim from a tailor in Thailand for summer. Sweaters and coats for winter.
And cargo pants.
Apart from the Hawaiian shirts, which get a couple of workouts a year in Asia, and a toasty warm, safety yellow parka bought for me as a present, every item is getting on and yet I feel no compulsion to replace them.
Not even the same type of cargo pants as the old trusties, recently offered at a discount, could sway me. Vowing instead to patch the hole, I realised I've embraced slow fashion. And that's liberating.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Do you have a favourite item of clothing you've worn for years? Is quality more important than price? As you've grown older, have you changed your clothes burying habits? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- A man has been taken into custody as part of an investigation into the whereabouts of missing teenager Pheobe Bishop, almost three weeks after her "suspicious" disappearance.
- Independent Nicolette Boele has claimed the last remaining seat of the federal election after winning a closely fought recount for the Sydney electorate of Bradfield.
- A shaky public spending handover has stalled Australia's post-COVID-19 recovery, with economic growth slowing to 0.2 per cent in the first three months of the year.
THEY SAID IT: "Buy less. Choose well. Make it last. Quality, not quantity. Everybody's buying far too many clothes." - Vivienne Westwood
YOU SAID IT: The best winter escape, wrote John, is a pile of good books.
Grant has some kind words: "I don't know if you're writing the Great Australian Novel but your beautiful and evocative account of the joys of winter indicates you should! Your respectful use of our language is appreciated, and should be shared on a broader canvas."
Jan is reading Flinders by Grantlee Kieza, about the exploits of Matthew Flinders. She, too, has noticed winter changing: "Winter is rapidly becoming all too brief as the years go by. I love the reprieve from the stifling, relentless and parching heat of summer and the (albeit diminishing) promise of snow in the mountains not too far away. In 2024, we had four weeks of barely usable snow cover instead of the traditional four months of a decade or more ago."
Ancient Rome has Ros captivated. Like John, she is engrossed in a Tom Holland history, Rubicon, about the decline of the Roman republic: "It is chilling indeed to see the clear parallels between the dying days of the Roman Republic and what is happening in a contemporary Republic with worldwide influence and impact."
Ian reads all year round, for at least an hour a day. "At the moment, I'm halfway through Mawson by Peter FitzSimons. A beautifully written and rollicking yarn, it is best appreciated being read in the middle of a Canberra winter with the heating turned off and all the windows open."
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
The small hole on the seam gave pause. I realised this faithful pair of cargo pants had lasted longer than World War II. Their roomy pockets carried the daily essentials. Phone, wallet, glasses, notebook and pen were all accommodated. Even the tiny drone for sneaky aerial snapshots.
I've lived in them for years, through overseas adventures and chores in the garden, through fire and flood. And, once that hole is patched, I'll live in them for a few more. They're the polar opposite of fast fashion. Indeed, they're not fashionable at all. But for practicality and durability, they can't be beaten.
They weren't cheap but their longevity confirms the old adage that you get what you pay for. They also point to the false economy that is fast fashion.
Clothing waste is a global issue. In Australia alone, we produce about 300,000 tonnes of it each year. Some is recycled, some is exported but a lot of it ends up in landfill.
The fashion industry is responsible for about 10 per cent of the microplastics which end up in our oceans. It accounts for about 20 per cent of the world's wastewater. Earth.org estimates the water required to make one T-shirt in enough to slake one person's thirst for 900 days.
In Chile's Atacama Desert, the mountain of discarded clothing is so huge, it's visible from space. A lot of it comes from the US, where it's estimated a garment is worn only seven to 10 times on average before it's discarded. That's a reduction in, say, a shirt's lifespan of 35 per cent in 15 years.
Stumbling on this information reminded me of a face-palm moment in the newsroom some years ago.
A young reporter was agonising over what to wear to an upcoming social event.
"Didn't you buy a new dress a couple of weeks ago?" I asked her.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly wear that," she replied. "I've already socialled it." A handful of Instagram likes and the frock was made redundant.
A riffle through my wardrobe revealed a snapshot of recent history. Gone were the pre-COVID business shirts and ties, the suits and the shiny shoes - thanks to working from home, the corporate armour is now superfluous. In their place, a colourful collection of Hawaiian shirts, shorts and one linen suit bought on a whim from a tailor in Thailand for summer. Sweaters and coats for winter.
And cargo pants.
Apart from the Hawaiian shirts, which get a couple of workouts a year in Asia, and a toasty warm, safety yellow parka bought for me as a present, every item is getting on and yet I feel no compulsion to replace them.
Not even the same type of cargo pants as the old trusties, recently offered at a discount, could sway me. Vowing instead to patch the hole, I realised I've embraced slow fashion. And that's liberating.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Do you have a favourite item of clothing you've worn for years? Is quality more important than price? As you've grown older, have you changed your clothes burying habits? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- A man has been taken into custody as part of an investigation into the whereabouts of missing teenager Pheobe Bishop, almost three weeks after her "suspicious" disappearance.
- Independent Nicolette Boele has claimed the last remaining seat of the federal election after winning a closely fought recount for the Sydney electorate of Bradfield.
- A shaky public spending handover has stalled Australia's post-COVID-19 recovery, with economic growth slowing to 0.2 per cent in the first three months of the year.
THEY SAID IT: "Buy less. Choose well. Make it last. Quality, not quantity. Everybody's buying far too many clothes." - Vivienne Westwood
YOU SAID IT: The best winter escape, wrote John, is a pile of good books.
Grant has some kind words: "I don't know if you're writing the Great Australian Novel but your beautiful and evocative account of the joys of winter indicates you should! Your respectful use of our language is appreciated, and should be shared on a broader canvas."
Jan is reading Flinders by Grantlee Kieza, about the exploits of Matthew Flinders. She, too, has noticed winter changing: "Winter is rapidly becoming all too brief as the years go by. I love the reprieve from the stifling, relentless and parching heat of summer and the (albeit diminishing) promise of snow in the mountains not too far away. In 2024, we had four weeks of barely usable snow cover instead of the traditional four months of a decade or more ago."
Ancient Rome has Ros captivated. Like John, she is engrossed in a Tom Holland history, Rubicon, about the decline of the Roman republic: "It is chilling indeed to see the clear parallels between the dying days of the Roman Republic and what is happening in a contemporary Republic with worldwide influence and impact."
Ian reads all year round, for at least an hour a day. "At the moment, I'm halfway through Mawson by Peter FitzSimons. A beautifully written and rollicking yarn, it is best appreciated being read in the middle of a Canberra winter with the heating turned off and all the windows open."
This is a sample of The Echidna newsletter sent out each weekday morning. To sign up for FREE, go to theechidna.com.au
The small hole on the seam gave pause. I realised this faithful pair of cargo pants had lasted longer than World War II. Their roomy pockets carried the daily essentials. Phone, wallet, glasses, notebook and pen were all accommodated. Even the tiny drone for sneaky aerial snapshots.
I've lived in them for years, through overseas adventures and chores in the garden, through fire and flood. And, once that hole is patched, I'll live in them for a few more. They're the polar opposite of fast fashion. Indeed, they're not fashionable at all. But for practicality and durability, they can't be beaten.
They weren't cheap but their longevity confirms the old adage that you get what you pay for. They also point to the false economy that is fast fashion.
Clothing waste is a global issue. In Australia alone, we produce about 300,000 tonnes of it each year. Some is recycled, some is exported but a lot of it ends up in landfill.
The fashion industry is responsible for about 10 per cent of the microplastics which end up in our oceans. It accounts for about 20 per cent of the world's wastewater. Earth.org estimates the water required to make one T-shirt in enough to slake one person's thirst for 900 days.
In Chile's Atacama Desert, the mountain of discarded clothing is so huge, it's visible from space. A lot of it comes from the US, where it's estimated a garment is worn only seven to 10 times on average before it's discarded. That's a reduction in, say, a shirt's lifespan of 35 per cent in 15 years.
Stumbling on this information reminded me of a face-palm moment in the newsroom some years ago.
A young reporter was agonising over what to wear to an upcoming social event.
"Didn't you buy a new dress a couple of weeks ago?" I asked her.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly wear that," she replied. "I've already socialled it." A handful of Instagram likes and the frock was made redundant.
A riffle through my wardrobe revealed a snapshot of recent history. Gone were the pre-COVID business shirts and ties, the suits and the shiny shoes - thanks to working from home, the corporate armour is now superfluous. In their place, a colourful collection of Hawaiian shirts, shorts and one linen suit bought on a whim from a tailor in Thailand for summer. Sweaters and coats for winter.
And cargo pants.
Apart from the Hawaiian shirts, which get a couple of workouts a year in Asia, and a toasty warm, safety yellow parka bought for me as a present, every item is getting on and yet I feel no compulsion to replace them.
Not even the same type of cargo pants as the old trusties, recently offered at a discount, could sway me. Vowing instead to patch the hole, I realised I've embraced slow fashion. And that's liberating.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Do you have a favourite item of clothing you've worn for years? Is quality more important than price? As you've grown older, have you changed your clothes burying habits? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au
SHARE THE LOVE: If you enjoy The Echidna, forward it to a friend so they can sign up, too.
IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:
- A man has been taken into custody as part of an investigation into the whereabouts of missing teenager Pheobe Bishop, almost three weeks after her "suspicious" disappearance.
- Independent Nicolette Boele has claimed the last remaining seat of the federal election after winning a closely fought recount for the Sydney electorate of Bradfield.
- A shaky public spending handover has stalled Australia's post-COVID-19 recovery, with economic growth slowing to 0.2 per cent in the first three months of the year.
THEY SAID IT: "Buy less. Choose well. Make it last. Quality, not quantity. Everybody's buying far too many clothes." - Vivienne Westwood
YOU SAID IT: The best winter escape, wrote John, is a pile of good books.
Grant has some kind words: "I don't know if you're writing the Great Australian Novel but your beautiful and evocative account of the joys of winter indicates you should! Your respectful use of our language is appreciated, and should be shared on a broader canvas."
Jan is reading Flinders by Grantlee Kieza, about the exploits of Matthew Flinders. She, too, has noticed winter changing: "Winter is rapidly becoming all too brief as the years go by. I love the reprieve from the stifling, relentless and parching heat of summer and the (albeit diminishing) promise of snow in the mountains not too far away. In 2024, we had four weeks of barely usable snow cover instead of the traditional four months of a decade or more ago."
Ancient Rome has Ros captivated. Like John, she is engrossed in a Tom Holland history, Rubicon, about the decline of the Roman republic: "It is chilling indeed to see the clear parallels between the dying days of the Roman Republic and what is happening in a contemporary Republic with worldwide influence and impact."
Ian reads all year round, for at least an hour a day. "At the moment, I'm halfway through Mawson by Peter FitzSimons. A beautifully written and rollicking yarn, it is best appreciated being read in the middle of a Canberra winter with the heating turned off and all the windows open."

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Sydney Morning Herald
12 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘Betrayal': She built a cult baby business, then RFK Jr came calling
It's a point of tension that tends to bubble up during motherhood in particular, when many parents are trying to 'figure things out on their own' and are increasingly sceptical of government institutions, said Sara Petersen, the author of Momfluenced: Inside the Maddening, Picture-Perfect World of Mommy Influencer Culture. Focusing on their child's diet and lifestyle can create 'an illusion of control' over their wellbeing. This can become a gateway of sorts into Kennedy's Make America Healthy Again movement. It isn't, in other words, a coincidence that the movement is fuelled by so-called 'crunchy' mothers. The same mothers might also be Bobbie's target customer. Complicity, or a front seat? Modi, 39, started the Bobbie brand in 2018, creating infant formula that is marketed as free from corn syrup, palm oil and other ultra-processed ingredients that have been commonplace in US formula brands. She has also thrown the brand's weight behind policies and non-profits focused on equity in maternal health, reproductive health and access to paid parental leave. This marketing strategy has differentiated Bobbie from other formula brands and generated a cult-like following. Millennial parents seem especially interested in its nutritional value and are perhaps also drawn to its social media-ready packaging, with its soft colour palette and slogans such as, 'I like it shaken, not stirred'. Modi, a mother of four, is a canny marketer, of both herself and her business. She was named one of Time's women of the year in February and one of Marie Claire's power moms in May. The company reached $US100 million ($156 million) in revenue in 2023 – making it the third-largest formula manufacturer in the United States, holding 4 per cent of that market – and is sold at Target and Whole Foods. A contingent of Bobbie's customers sees an about face in Modi's alignment with Kennedy, a man who has been accused by critics of undermining established science and promoting public health policies that they say put children's lives at risk. 'I'm genuinely sad about this,' one follower wrote on the Instagram post of Modi with Kennedy. Another customer, Allison Rhone, 43, a social media manager at a non-profit, noted that the Instagram caption lacked any context about what she called the 'craziness' of much of Kennedy's agenda. 'That to me is complicity because it makes it all seem normal,' she said. Meghan Novisky, 41, a Bobbie customer and a criminology professor at Cleveland State University, said: 'It almost felt like a betrayal; I felt shocked to see that. It just shatters my trust in them.' In interviews, others vowed never to use or recommend Bobbie again. (The company said it hadn't seen a dip in subscriptions.) But 'what's the potential outcome of not being in that room?' Modi said in an interview. 'Two things can be true at the same time,' she said. 'I don't agree with many of the things that this current administration is doing. It's very hard to watch the dismantling of really important agencies and, specifically within my world, parts of the FDA.' But, she said, she saw value in being in the room with a decision-maker like Kennedy. A 'naive' plan Modi moved from the west coast of Ireland to California for a job at Google in 2006. She planned to stay in the United States for a year or two before moving back to Ireland. Instead, she ended up climbing the corporate ladder and, in 2011, became director of hospitality at Airbnb. She assumed that she would breastfeed her first child, born in 2016, but her plans were upended by a nasty bout of mastitis, an infection of the breast. With a raging fever and a crying five-day-old infant, she walked into a Walgreens at 11pm. 'What am I picking up? What's the right thing to feed my baby?' she said of the thoughts that were racing through her mind then. 'No idea.' There were few formula brand options, and the ingredient lists on the cans were incomprehensible. She walked out that night with a pack of Similac, manufactured by Abbott, and the germ of an idea. Loading In any spare minute, Modi looked up ingredients, researched infant nutritional science and examined how the existing formula brands functioned. She asked her mother to smuggle in cans of European brands for her daughter, which, at the time, were not approved by the Food and Drug Administration to be sold in the US (an increasingly common practice for parents). The European Commission regulates formula differently, said Dr Bridget Young, a professor of paediatrics and a breastfeeding researcher at the University of Rochester. Europe, for example, 'sets limits on pesticide residues that can be in formula. We don't do that here,' she said. 'You can't, in Europe, use sucrose or table sugar,' she said. 'In the US, we don't regulate that.' Loading Europe also sets different limits for ingredients like DHA (a fatty acid believed to be essential for brain and eye development) and iron. Still, she added, the approaches to making formulas around the world are similar, and the small differences between them are marketed as large gulfs. Formulas are also among 'the safest foods made in the US', Young said. 'There's no perfect formula; there's no poison formula.' Similac, for instance – which Modi weaned her daughter off in favour of the imports – is fed to babies in hospitals, including in the neonatal intensive care unit wards. When, in December 2017, Modi found out she was pregnant again, she quit her job and decided to start Bobbie. 'In my mind,' she said, 'I'm like, 'I got nine months, I will have a better infant formula in the market before he comes.' ' That, she said, was incredibly 'naive'. For starters, there were the Goliaths of the market: the four manufacturers – Abbott, Mead Johnson (acquired by Reckitt), Nestle and Perrigo – which together controlled 97 per cent of the market in 2022. Infant formula is also highly regulated, presenting any new entrant with a labyrinth of hoops to jump through. And, infant formula being about as aspirational as antacid or Band-Aids, there were few eager investors. Most, many of whom were male, would also ask something to the effect of, ' 'Well, what are you planning to do with this?' And point to my very visible pregnant belly,' she said. By the time Modi was 8½ months pregnant, in 2018, she had pitched the idea of a 'European-style' formula to 64 investors. One gave her $US2.4 million in funding eight days before her second child arrived. It would be three more years before she would bring an FDA-approved product to market. Crises and opportunities In 2022, supply chain disruptions and a bacterial outbreak that temporarily closed Similac's plant set off a harrowing nationwide infant formula shortage. Since the brand's inception, Bobbie products had been sold online through a subscription model and were manufactured at a contract facility that also works with other smaller brands. During the shortage, when US store shelves sat bare, parents turned to Bobbie formula, creating a surge in demand that outpaced production at the contract facility. The company had to stop accepting new customers. Loading Modi bought a manufacturing facility in Ohio that began making Bobbie formula last year, allowing it to triple supply. HHS now presents Modi with another opportunity: to fulfil her long-standing goals of updating infant nutrition standards. Kennedy's MAHA agenda has many of the same talking points Modi has been espousing since 2018 – that European formulas are healthier, corn syrup in formula is a villain and regulators need to increase testing of heavy metals that have been detected in formulas made in the US. At the same time, the Trump administration has fired thousands of federal public health workers and researchers, including a committee that tracks bacterial outbreaks in infant formula. As head of the FDA division that regulates formula, Kennedy has named Kyle Diamantas, a corporate lawyer who defended Abbott in a lawsuit claiming that one of its formulas increased the risk of a deadly condition in infants. (Abbott, which lost the case, was ordered to pay $US495 million in damages.) Paediatricians worry too that, under these circumstances, a review of nutrition standards could easily veer into MAHA obsessions, like seed oils (which contain fatty acids that are essential for infant development), instead of focusing on science. Loading For Rhone, part of the appeal of Bobbie was that it was marketed as an outsider to the infant formula industry, putting it in a position to criticise the FDA and other agencies. 'I just need to know that you're going to be an actual advocate in there and that you're not just going to nod your head to whatever they're saying,' Rhone said. But to Modi, infant nutrition is a nonpartisan issue. 'And if what it takes to update nutritional standards is a certain administration, certain voices to create that change, I'm all here for it.'

The Age
12 hours ago
- The Age
‘Betrayal': She built a cult baby business, then RFK Jr came calling
It's a point of tension that tends to bubble up during motherhood in particular, when many parents are trying to 'figure things out on their own' and are increasingly sceptical of government institutions, said Sara Petersen, the author of Momfluenced: Inside the Maddening, Picture-Perfect World of Mommy Influencer Culture. Focusing on their child's diet and lifestyle can create 'an illusion of control' over their wellbeing. This can become a gateway of sorts into Kennedy's Make America Healthy Again movement. It isn't, in other words, a coincidence that the movement is fuelled by so-called 'crunchy' mothers. The same mothers might also be Bobbie's target customer. Complicity, or a front seat? Modi, 39, started the Bobbie brand in 2018, creating infant formula that is marketed as free from corn syrup, palm oil and other ultra-processed ingredients that have been commonplace in US formula brands. She has also thrown the brand's weight behind policies and non-profits focused on equity in maternal health, reproductive health and access to paid parental leave. This marketing strategy has differentiated Bobbie from other formula brands and generated a cult-like following. Millennial parents seem especially interested in its nutritional value and are perhaps also drawn to its social media-ready packaging, with its soft colour palette and slogans such as, 'I like it shaken, not stirred'. Modi, a mother of four, is a canny marketer, of both herself and her business. She was named one of Time's women of the year in February and one of Marie Claire's power moms in May. The company reached $US100 million ($156 million) in revenue in 2023 – making it the third-largest formula manufacturer in the United States, holding 4 per cent of that market – and is sold at Target and Whole Foods. A contingent of Bobbie's customers sees an about face in Modi's alignment with Kennedy, a man who has been accused by critics of undermining established science and promoting public health policies that they say put children's lives at risk. 'I'm genuinely sad about this,' one follower wrote on the Instagram post of Modi with Kennedy. Another customer, Allison Rhone, 43, a social media manager at a non-profit, noted that the Instagram caption lacked any context about what she called the 'craziness' of much of Kennedy's agenda. 'That to me is complicity because it makes it all seem normal,' she said. Meghan Novisky, 41, a Bobbie customer and a criminology professor at Cleveland State University, said: 'It almost felt like a betrayal; I felt shocked to see that. It just shatters my trust in them.' In interviews, others vowed never to use or recommend Bobbie again. (The company said it hadn't seen a dip in subscriptions.) But 'what's the potential outcome of not being in that room?' Modi said in an interview. 'Two things can be true at the same time,' she said. 'I don't agree with many of the things that this current administration is doing. It's very hard to watch the dismantling of really important agencies and, specifically within my world, parts of the FDA.' But, she said, she saw value in being in the room with a decision-maker like Kennedy. A 'naive' plan Modi moved from the west coast of Ireland to California for a job at Google in 2006. She planned to stay in the United States for a year or two before moving back to Ireland. Instead, she ended up climbing the corporate ladder and, in 2011, became director of hospitality at Airbnb. She assumed that she would breastfeed her first child, born in 2016, but her plans were upended by a nasty bout of mastitis, an infection of the breast. With a raging fever and a crying five-day-old infant, she walked into a Walgreens at 11pm. 'What am I picking up? What's the right thing to feed my baby?' she said of the thoughts that were racing through her mind then. 'No idea.' There were few formula brand options, and the ingredient lists on the cans were incomprehensible. She walked out that night with a pack of Similac, manufactured by Abbott, and the germ of an idea. Loading In any spare minute, Modi looked up ingredients, researched infant nutritional science and examined how the existing formula brands functioned. She asked her mother to smuggle in cans of European brands for her daughter, which, at the time, were not approved by the Food and Drug Administration to be sold in the US (an increasingly common practice for parents). The European Commission regulates formula differently, said Dr Bridget Young, a professor of paediatrics and a breastfeeding researcher at the University of Rochester. Europe, for example, 'sets limits on pesticide residues that can be in formula. We don't do that here,' she said. 'You can't, in Europe, use sucrose or table sugar,' she said. 'In the US, we don't regulate that.' Loading Europe also sets different limits for ingredients like DHA (a fatty acid believed to be essential for brain and eye development) and iron. Still, she added, the approaches to making formulas around the world are similar, and the small differences between them are marketed as large gulfs. Formulas are also among 'the safest foods made in the US', Young said. 'There's no perfect formula; there's no poison formula.' Similac, for instance – which Modi weaned her daughter off in favour of the imports – is fed to babies in hospitals, including in the neonatal intensive care unit wards. When, in December 2017, Modi found out she was pregnant again, she quit her job and decided to start Bobbie. 'In my mind,' she said, 'I'm like, 'I got nine months, I will have a better infant formula in the market before he comes.' ' That, she said, was incredibly 'naive'. For starters, there were the Goliaths of the market: the four manufacturers – Abbott, Mead Johnson (acquired by Reckitt), Nestle and Perrigo – which together controlled 97 per cent of the market in 2022. Infant formula is also highly regulated, presenting any new entrant with a labyrinth of hoops to jump through. And, infant formula being about as aspirational as antacid or Band-Aids, there were few eager investors. Most, many of whom were male, would also ask something to the effect of, ' 'Well, what are you planning to do with this?' And point to my very visible pregnant belly,' she said. By the time Modi was 8½ months pregnant, in 2018, she had pitched the idea of a 'European-style' formula to 64 investors. One gave her $US2.4 million in funding eight days before her second child arrived. It would be three more years before she would bring an FDA-approved product to market. Crises and opportunities In 2022, supply chain disruptions and a bacterial outbreak that temporarily closed Similac's plant set off a harrowing nationwide infant formula shortage. Since the brand's inception, Bobbie products had been sold online through a subscription model and were manufactured at a contract facility that also works with other smaller brands. During the shortage, when US store shelves sat bare, parents turned to Bobbie formula, creating a surge in demand that outpaced production at the contract facility. The company had to stop accepting new customers. Loading Modi bought a manufacturing facility in Ohio that began making Bobbie formula last year, allowing it to triple supply. HHS now presents Modi with another opportunity: to fulfil her long-standing goals of updating infant nutrition standards. Kennedy's MAHA agenda has many of the same talking points Modi has been espousing since 2018 – that European formulas are healthier, corn syrup in formula is a villain and regulators need to increase testing of heavy metals that have been detected in formulas made in the US. At the same time, the Trump administration has fired thousands of federal public health workers and researchers, including a committee that tracks bacterial outbreaks in infant formula. As head of the FDA division that regulates formula, Kennedy has named Kyle Diamantas, a corporate lawyer who defended Abbott in a lawsuit claiming that one of its formulas increased the risk of a deadly condition in infants. (Abbott, which lost the case, was ordered to pay $US495 million in damages.) Paediatricians worry too that, under these circumstances, a review of nutrition standards could easily veer into MAHA obsessions, like seed oils (which contain fatty acids that are essential for infant development), instead of focusing on science. Loading For Rhone, part of the appeal of Bobbie was that it was marketed as an outsider to the infant formula industry, putting it in a position to criticise the FDA and other agencies. 'I just need to know that you're going to be an actual advocate in there and that you're not just going to nod your head to whatever they're saying,' Rhone said. But to Modi, infant nutrition is a nonpartisan issue. 'And if what it takes to update nutritional standards is a certain administration, certain voices to create that change, I'm all here for it.'

News.com.au
a day ago
- News.com.au
Meghan isn't trying to go viral, she's just being authentic
Can we all just leave Meghan alone? Yes, that '00s reference holds today because Meghan Markle (apologies, Sussex) can't catch a break no matter what she posts or who she hosts. While I was sceptical of the rainbow sprinkles as well, and I wasn't overwhelmed by her show, the backlash over her video has me firmly on Team Meghan. At the start of 2025, Meghan made her return to Instagram after a decade-long hiatus, following Royal Family protocol. And when she returned, she was unashamedly Meghan, keeping a curated 'realness' of her life. And that's precisely what she did to celebrate Lilibet's birthday. When even a birthday message is coping hate, we've gone too far She shared her dance in the delivery suite as she tried to encourage her labour to begin. She said she tried everything to get things moving, so she took to dancing as a last resort. I've had three babies myself and know a lot of women who have also given birth. When it comes to tips and tricks to kickstart labour, many pregnant women will admit they've tried them all, from the G-rated (curb walking or eating a pile of dates) through to the R18+ (having sex with your partner, god forbid), there's no judgment. Because that final week (or weeks) of pregnancy should be named 'I'm Over It' or 'Time To Vacate'. That's the point where patience runs thin, energy is low, sleep deprivation is already a thing, and every trick in the book is attempted in hopes of getting things moving. Whether it's walking, bouncing on a yoga ball, or, yes, dancing shamelessly around the room — anything to bring on that beautiful, albeit exhausting, moment when labour begins. It's a time when the mind needs to be distracted, the body needs to stay active, and for some (think of every parenting influencer you follow on social media) there's an urge to share these final moments of pregnancy with the world in a way that feels authentic. Meghan Markle is no different. Imagine you've been thinking about this milestone for nine months (or more). You look down at your belly and say, 'OK, baby, it's time!' The problem is, babies don't have a calendar or a watch; they run on their own schedule, thank you very much. Once you've hit 40 weeks, as the song says, 'Been pregnant for way too long!' Don't worry, Meghan, I danced too! Meghan's pre-labour dance was her second pregnancy. She'd been down this road before. She wasn't going to wait any longer, and she knew what she had to do. And let's face it — dancing at 40 weeks, whether you're a duchess or not, isn't sexy. It might even be cringey. But hey, she's human. I was doing the same jig almost three years ago when I was due with my third baby boy. I was cautious and reserved during my first two pregnancies, and by the third time, I just wanted to have fun with it. And in the words of Lizzo, it was 'about damn time.' I was proud to share this moment with my friends and family. For sure, some people were laughing at my expense, but I couldn't hear them or see them from the delivery room. I posted it to celebrate and bring joy into the room while also desperately wanting my labour to start and finally be on the other side of this whole journey. I also knew that once I posted, I wouldn't be hit with a tidal wave of hate – the upside of being a non-celebrity. OK, I'll admit, I hoped for a 'like' from Lizzo or a dream scenario repost, but I didn't censor myself because I was worried about what people would say. And yet, when Meghan Markle shares a moment like this, she's immediately criticised for being 'too much.' She gets called out for being too polished when she shares the perfectly manicured, PR-approved moments. And when she dares to show a more human side — a mother feeling silly, a wife being playful with her husband, a woman not trying to be anyone other than herself — she's labelled 'cringe.' It's exhausting, and frankly, boring. If you don't like her, just keep scrolling. Meghan's dance is what we, as her followers, demanded of her: real, unfiltered moments. If the 'Baby Mama Dance' was shared by any other celebrity or regular mum-to-be, it might've just been celebrated for being fun and relatable. But because it's Meghan Markle, who's been under a microscope since she was first linked to Harry nearly a decade ago, it becomes fodder for criticism. The truth is, no matter what she does, she's always going to be criticised. And that is just really sad. I want to believe in a world where fellow mothers who have been overdue or had their baby on their due date aren't hating on her while watching this video. Because as we all know, pregnancy and parenthood are hard enough without the added layer of keyboard warriors. So let's assume we do live in this utopia where mums don't hate on other mums for dancing to induce labour — this goes out to the partners too, who get a front-row seat in the delivery room. And to everyone else, strap on a watermelon and two rockmelons, then go about your regular everyday activities … it won't be long before you're twerking your way out of wearing the fruit salad on your belly and chest. Regardless of your personal opinion of Meghan Markle, in this raw, unfiltered moment, she is just a woman, a mum, about to become a mother for the second time. Trying to have a laugh with her husband by her side knowing she has a very challenging few hours ahead. So let's all find something better to critique.