Banana Republic: n. 1. Popular clothing store chain with San Diegolocations in Fashion Valley, University TowneCenter and Horton Plaza. 2. A small dependent country, usually of thetropics, that trades bananas with the United States for financialprotection and aid.

On the surface, the second definition of the term isn’t all thatbad. It’s a trade arrangement — we, the dominant country, arehelping out countries less fortunate.

But we have made light of horrid conditions in poverty-strickencountries by naming a store after it. And I don’t want to hearanything about it being a tribute. You can plead your Monty Montezumacase until you’re blue in the face, but this is just a littledifferent.

Upon realizing the significance behind the name of one of myfavorite stores (just ask Visa Gold), I came to a conclusion. If GapInc. (the company that owns The Gap, Banana and Old Navy) is going toname a store — one geared toward society’s upper middle class noless — after people who are dependent on our country for survival,what else are they up to behind closed doors?

I found out, and it ain’t pretty.

According to www.sweatshops.org,in the past four years, The Gap Inc. has imported $237 million ingarments from the United States Commonwealth of the Northern MarianaIslands, making it the largest importer of sweatshop-producedproducts in the United States. The island chain attracts workers insearch of better jobs in garment factories. Instead, they are greetedwith horrid working conditions, poor pay and forced to live inguarded dormitories surrounded by barbed wire.

So the solution seems simple. Boycott Gap Inc. and simply buy yourclothes somewhere else.

If the answer were that simple, I’d do it — trust me. But in themoney-hungry world of business operations, there are few clothingdesigners who opt out of packing the factories with sweatshoplaborers. Look at the list: Robinson’s May, Nine West, Jones NewYork, Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren, Structure, Limited,Express, Bath and Body Works, Victoria’s Secret, Lane Bryant andPolo, to name a few.

Now I’m sure some of you who aren’t as clothes-obsessed as I amare reading this and saying, “Oh stop complaining and quit wearingname brand.”

Ha! Target and Mervyn’s made the cut too. And we all know thehistory of the Kathie Lee line, carried exclusively by K-mart, sothere goes that idea too.

So, now I’m stuck. It’s Christmas time, and in looking down thewish lists of the many people I have to buy presents for, I’ve cometo realize something — avoiding mall-based stores is going to provetougher than getting Robert Downey Jr. to kick his drug habit.

Simply put, it ain’t gonna happen any time soon.

This society breeds greed — the dollar is the bottom line andeveryone knows unparalleled success is the only way to get it. It’ssurvival of the fittest, and in order to get ahead in this world, youhave to look the part. Unfortunately, in order to look the part, youhave to buy the clothes. And it seems the only designers not pushingpesos to overworked servants sell their clothing at prices theaverage American would have to pawn their car to afford.

I’d love to say I’ll never shop at any of the aforementionedstores again. But unless the government wants to give me a taxvoucher for buying Hugo Boss (who, I’m sure, has shirked minimum wagelaws here and there), I’m probably going to have a hell of a timepaying off those credit card debts.

The way I see it, I have very few options. One: succumb to a lifeof only second hand clothing. Though the clothes were probably oncemade by sweatshop laborers, I’m not directly causing the problem.Like an accessory to murder, I just sort of watch and don’t sayanything while the first person feeds the inferno.

Two: I can make my own clothes, but considering I sewed my IndianGuides (yup, no Boy Scouts for me) uniform shut trying to add patcheswhen I was 10, I think I’ll pass on that.

Three: I can join a nudist colony. But then I’d have to lathermyself in sunscreen, and as we all have probably guessed, Coppertoneand its competitors more than likely have sweatshop workers fillingtheir tubes one after another.

So what’s a guy to do? I say we all move to the country, becomeAmish and spend the days playing “Old Man River” on acoustic guitar.

But then one has to wonder about Gibson guitar employees.

–Ross von Metzke is Opinion Editor of The Daily Aztec and ajournalism senior. Send e-mail to daletter2000@hotmail.com.

–This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of TheDaily Aztec.