"Everyone has their green lines," Parks says. "But are they against sweatshops?"

The way she sees it, buying the 100 percent organic cotton T-shirt with a cute green message slapped across the bust doesn't cut it. She needs to know not a single child was exploited so she could wear that shirt. She needs to have confidence in the integrity of the store that sells the shirt. So many cash register prerequisites don't make for swift shopping at the nearest mall, which led to her Web site. Parks hopes to reach out to the man who cared about the environment long before celebrities decided it was cool, as well as the young college student trying to get used to the idea of recycling.

It's quite the leap from Parks' former days as a UNLV student when she stomped out lit cigarettes with no regard for their disposal and picked up a new clubbing outfit every weekend. The change came the same time her daughter Zoe Murphy did. Bringing a new life into the world caused the 37-year-old to take a look around. The more she looked, the more she became concerned.

Today, 5-year-old Zoe can't listen to Dr. Seuss' "The Lorax" without bursting into tears. Dropping paper and plastic in the recycling bin is as much a treat as pushing the floor button in an elevator for her. Likewise, she tugs her mother's sleeve and interrupts a conversation, not to find out if they can go to McDonald's but to ask when she gets to see Disney's newly released "Earth" film.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. So long as the apples are pesticide-free and the tree isn't chopped down, Parks is just fine with that.

"If we don't change how we live," she says, "then we won't have anything left."