Up in Ontario

Stalking the Recycled Tissue at Zellers

This past weekend I had the unfortunate opportunity to visit a Zellers store. Prior to the visit it had been many years since my last visit to a Zellers store, so long in fact, that I remember their slogan to be the additionally unfortunate, 'Where the Lowest Price is the Law.' Oh my.

So we visited the Zellers. I waited for the Duck while she waited to be helped. I spotted row upon row of paper products, stretching up to the ceiling 20 feet away, and I thought to myself, 'Hmm, we need to get ourselves some bulk paper products.' Buying in bulk is cheaper, I reasoned. Friends told me about their trips to Costco for ludicrously low-priced tissue, toilet paper and paper towels. I wanted in on some of that.

But one problem existed. You see, I'm one of those obnoxious shoppers who thinks that what I buy matters, that my purchases reflect my support for a company and its values. I wanted to buy 100 percent recycled toilet paper, tissues and paper towel. I browsed the aisle and came across the recycled paper towel, Zellers' own in-house brand. Hoorah, I though to myself. Good on them.

I turned to the tissue paper and, now that the Zellers brand had proven itself to align with my notions, I sought it out. And found it. And tried to see if it contained 100 percent recycled paper. No information. I assumed it was not recycled, but rather, that it was, like almost all tissue paper available in Canada made from ancient forests clear-cut from the Canadian shield, a landscape just like the country around Lake of the Woods, where we have a camp and where I love to visit and where my novel, Up in Ontario, is set.

I found a store clerk and asked him if they carried any recycled paper products. He didn't know. Maybe I could call in three days when the next truck came in. But did they carry recycled tissue paper or toilet paper? No, we established, they didn't. So I pointed out to him that the next truck would certainly have no recycled tissue paper or toilet paper. He thought I was probably right about that, but he could check with his manager. The Duck and I headed to Customer Service.

At the counter we found a friendly clerk who told us that no means existed to order in products that they did not routinely stock. Could I ask to order something new, I asked. No, people don't do that, I was told. The Duck pointed to the Customer Service Champions Comment Card. Super, I thought. I filled out one irregularly, since it was designed only to provide feedback to Zellers when one of their representatives had gone beyond the call of duty, when they'd been a Customer Service Champion. Most of the Customer Service Representatives I had seen in the store, unless they were penned into cash registers or service desks, had quickly scurried the other way when customers approached. The store shelves appeared to have adopted a shabby-chic aesthetic, as if a pawn shop owner had been hired to give the place some character, though everything seemed to not have been pre-owned or recently stolen.

So to make a long story short, I filled out the card and asked to be contacted. That was Monday, I'm still waiting to hear from them. I feel like a bit of a self-righteous twit for wanting my precious recycled paper and for trying to work on getting it through Zellers, but at the same time, if they want to survive (they're owned by The Hudson's Bay Company), they've got to do better. Even if they're not targetting fancy shmancy consumers like me with their bargain basement value proposition. The onslaught of Sprawl-Marts goes on as we speak.

P.S.: If you want to see how different tissues rate on their environmental sustainability / friendliness, Greenpeace has a great Tissue Products Shopper's Guide that includes toilet paper, facial tissue, paper towels and napkins. After all, tissue is a convenience product designed to be used once and thrown away. We might as well not cut down ancient forests to wipe our collective ass and blow our nose.