In an old and long-forgotten shoe box, I come across a little green filmgoer’s diary, dated 1957. As I turn the pages Deborah Kerr, John Wayne and a host of other post-war stars shimmer up at me, exuding glamour, wealth, fame and desirability. I am a nine-year-old girl again, rather solitary, living in a world of books, comics, make-believe and the occasional Saturday morning film. I am about to close the little diary and with it close this unexpected and slightly shocking encounter with my nine-year-old self when I notice at the front of it some childish writing, a smudged attempt to write neatly in royal blue ink with a Christmas present pen.

New Year’s resolutions! Now I am really shocked. This is a list of virtues that I am going to display over the coming year. I am promising to be kind, honest, obedient (also pretty!)… well, I won’t embarrass myself by going through the whole list, but you get the picture. No doubt my Methodist Sunday School has something to do with this list. This is an encounter, not just with myself as a child, but with an entirely different universe, where morality is at the heart of the way people function.

Nowadays, people (myself included) are more likely to make resolutions that are designed to enhance their own sense of well being – to lose weight, go to the gym… well, actually I can’t think of many others. It is usually all to do with weight, health and fitness. We read New Year newspaper articles exhorting us to make such resolutions. Since when did they encourage us to resolve to be kinder to each other, more honest in the way we live our lives, less selfish? Since when did they encourage us to buy less, in a way that does not harm others or the natural world?

The nature of our own consumerism has a bearing on the extent to which we are able to live our lives according to all the Quaker Testimonies, but particularly the Testimony to Simplicity. In the 1964 edition of Advices and Queries: ‘Try to live simply’ is linked to the appreciation of music, literature and ‘the development of a taste that will reject the worthless and the base’. A concern about the irresponsible use of man’s increasing power over nature is mentioned in a separate Query. By 1994 edition ‘Try to live simply’ is linked with the suggestion that we keep ourselves informed about the effects of our lifestyle on the global economy and environment. By 2003 the testimony to Earth and the Environment has ‘emerged’ to be included in a pamphlet on the Quaker testimonies. Sustainable living has become central to our Quaker commitment.

But for me, the gulf between my aspirations and the way of life in which I am inextricably caught feels unbridgeable.

Last year I received a subscription to the Ethical Consumer magazine as a Christmas present. Over the months the unread copies have piled up. The articles are so dense, the tables so confusing, the topics so complex. I am always putting it off till I have a little more time. Then my daughter mentioned that she was writing an article for the magazine on chocolate production. When it arrived, I turned to it and looked proudly at her name. Then I read it. To say that it was life-changing might be a bit of an exaggeration. But how else to describe my sense of shock and guilt? I read that seventy per cent of chocolate originates in the Ivory Coast, and that much of this is produced by child slave labour. A 2002 study found that, of the 200,000 children working there, 10,000 are victims of trafficking or enslavement, whilst 109,000 work under the ‘worst forms of child labour’.

Recently I went on a long train journey. I took with me some of my carefully filed back copies of the Ethical Consumer. As I digested the detailed research and analyses I began to realise as never before that my purchases are the point at which my life articulates with greedy, amoral capitalism. Every time I throw a tin of something mindlessly into my supermarket trolley I am likely to be implicated in some way in both the exploitation of others and environmental depredation.

Which brings me back to New Year’s resolutions. I am never going to be the paragon of virtue I dreamed of as a nine-year-old. But maybe I can do a little. I am lucky enough to be able to make choices in what I buy. I can buy less, more thoughtfully. But here I come up against the complexity of the issues. I can’t research every article I buy. But my reading of the back copies of Ethical Consumer suggests to me that there are some principles that I could follow and some practical steps that I can realistically take.

Here are ten things which I can resolve to do:

• make more effort to buy goods certified as Fairtrade, or by Rainforest Alliance

Increasingly, Fairtrade goods are appearing in the supermarkets, and not always at a price premium. I can also search out fair trade goods from sources other than supermarkets. Rainforest Alliance too has exacting standards, but these do not include commitment to a fair income for producers.

• buy locally, directly from producers

Globalisation has meant that production has been out-sourced, and supply chains are complex and impenetrable. Many companies are happy to turn a blind eye to the conditions of production, whilst putting increasing pressures on suppliers to cut production costs.

• stop buying anything that is disposable

More than once, I have forgotten to take my camera on holiday, and ended up buying a disposable one to tide me over. It’s plastic and adds to landfill.

• change to a green energy supplier
My present company trumpets its green credentials, whilst at the same time investing in coal fired power stations.
• buy organic cotton or hemp
As an erstwhile weaver I love natural products. However, cotton production involves the use of pesticides, fertilisers and child labour. The Guardian’s online Ethical Clothing Directory lists 234 different companies. Also, I could try hemp, which requires less fertilisers than cotton.

• shop at charity shops

It takes far more resources to produce new clothes than to reuse existing ones. There are still some gems to be found in charity shops.

• join Freecycle

This seems to be a great way of stepping out of the money economy altogether

• change to a bank with an ethical investment policy

What is the point of my campaigning against the arms trade when the supposedly right-on mutual building society I use may well be investing in that trade?

• join Transition Town

This is a change I have already made. I’ve begun to make new friends, who are also interested in making sustainable lifestyle.

• talk to friends about the issues

There is a danger that I won’t have many friends for much longer if I bleat on about consuming ethically. Nobody wants to be made to feel guilty. But I am hoping that sometimes it will be possible to make an observation that doesn’t come over as preachy.
Of course there is much more I could do. But these are resolutions that I feel I could realistically remember and carry out. And even keeping one of them would make a difference.