Bale straps: these flat plastic ties secure much of what we buy in Hawai‘i, from construction materials to luxury goods, for the heave and ho of overseas shipping. Once the boxes reach their destination, the straps are clipped off and thrown out. For mountains of durable, colorful and decidedly non-biodegradable plastic, that’s the end of the line—unless you’re Gaye Chan.

While on sabbatical in Vancouver, Chan, former chair of the art department at the University of Hawai‘i, noticed a pile of bale straps at a friend’s vegetable distribution depot and asked if she could have some. Inspired by other bale strap bags—the craft is common throughout Asia—Chan bartered the totes she wove of “foraged” straps for produce. When she came home, she says, “I didn’t want to stop.”

On a lānai backed by the green Ko‘olau mountains, surrounded by sheaves of bale straps in a rainbow of colors, Chan weaves cheerful, artfully crafted bags from a material with tensile strength running into the hundreds of pounds. The color of every bag is determined by the materials Chan collects from vendors across the island, and nothing, not even water, is added to the process. (Incoming straps are washed by Windward rain.) Sometimes with a vividly contrasting pattern, sometimes with a subtle gradient of color, the waterproof totes come in many shapes and sizes, from purses to laundry baskets.

Chan barters some of her bale strap bags with friends and neighbors. Others go to shops like Fishcake and the Hawai‘i State Art Museum store. Still others appear on her Instagram account and are claimed by buyers from all over.

Coming from an artist, of course, Chan’s bags are not just objects. They’re more like an ongoing work of art, in which commerce is just one strand in the weave. “I’m interested in flow,” she says: keeping the flow of goods, events and relationships going, taking something considered worthless and giving it value. Chan loves seeing the bags “in the wild,” where they’re used to lug everything from library books to beach gear to farmers-market bounty.

Chan’s bags have ended up all over the world, but one has stayed close to home: The first one she made in 2012—an elegant, purse-size black number—is still being used by her partner. It looks brand new.

instagram.com/foraged_in_entirety