As of July the state of Georgia is in Fiscal Year 2026, for which Governor Brian Kemp (R) initially proposed an annual budget of $1.62 billion for the Georgia Department of Corrections (GDC). That would have been a $125 million increase over the previous year. What GDC ended up getting was a $199.6 million increase. You’d think it would buy us some clothing, yet policy still dictates that the department avoid issuing us new clothes whenever possible, to help reduce costs.
When transferring from the state intake facility to wherever they’ll be housed next, new arrivals often hope to take with them a full complement of new state-issue sheets and towels and several new changes of clothing. At best, they’ll be shipped off wearing one new uniform and carrying only whatever little personal property they accumulated during intake.
At their new prison of residence—erroneously referred to as their “permanent” camp as if they won’t be transferred repeatedly—they’ll be issued two used uniforms and used bedding, and some underwear that is often new, but not necessarily new. People handed used underwear might file grievances, but don’t usually end up getting new underwear out of the process.
People often try to save the new uniform they arrived in for visits and not wear it on other days. But the poorer they are, the sooner they’ll be forced to sell it to buy food and other necessities. After three months they can exchange some of the underwear. After six months they can exchange one of the old uniforms. The one they get in exchange will also be used.
“At no time should the replacement of clothing be viewed as an entitlement or right of the Offender,” states GDC policy. “Clothing should be replaced only when deemed unserviceable.”
Property officers, of course, have a lot of discretion to deem the clothing still serviceable.
When we exchange something, we sign receipts that list the item’s value as the same whether it’s new or used.
M* works in a GDC clothing warehouse. His hustle is selling the new uniforms, mattresses, blankets and so forth. They’re rare, and you won’t get them unless you’re the highest bidder. So almost everyone is exchanging their used items for other used items. If you can still pay something, you’ll receive items that have been gently used. If you can’t, you’ll get the items that have been the least gently used.
“I’m not stealing from the warehouse, I’m just making sure your exchange of items brings you new items instead of someone else’s used item,” he told Filter. “If you need an extra new uniform, you have to find an extra one to exchange.“
This is why when someone makes parole, everyone wants their old uniforms and bedding. They’re supposed to take everything to the ID room when processing out, but quite often it disappears in the laundry room shortly beforehand.
M said the warehouse doesn’t receive much new stock to begin with; most of it isn’t clothing or bedding.
“Might be a dozen shirts one week; pants on another [week],” he said. “What we get mostly are pallets of cleaning supplies, plastic trash and sandwich bags, all the styrofoam trays for the kitchen … a big pallet of copy paper monthly, ink cartridges, office supplies for administration.”
When we do exchange something, we sign a receipt that we don’t get a copy of. The value of the item is the same regardless of whether what we’re handed is new or used.
Unfortunately, we don’t have a right to be issued personal hygiene items either.
Other prisoners who’ve recently worked at warehouses at other GDC facilities painted a similar picture, in terms of the small quantities of new inventory.
“Extra” clothing is often confiscated during inspections, recycled through the warehouse and issued to those who come requesting an exchange. So it’s rare that the department ever needs to issue new uniforms, or new anything. Laundry bags, sheets, pillow cases, blankets, pillows, mattresses—same thing.
Toiletries are a similar story. One roll of toilet paper and one bar of soap are issued per person per week. One hotel-size deodorant stick and tube of toothpaste per person per month. None of this lasts anywhere near as long as it’s supposed to. Unfortunately, the same policy that covers clothing states that we don’t have a right to be issued personal hygiene items either.
W* is a dorm orderly. If you’re in the same living unit, then as far as supplies go he’s your guy. Five days a week, every unit is issued a single trash bag and a liter each of bleach, soap, window cleaner and pine-scented disinfectant. This is mostly intended for cleaning the dorm bathrooms. W begins each day by pouring out about half of each liter into separate bottles and refilling the rest of the original liter bottles with water. The diluted mix will be used to clean the bathrooms. Everything set aside will be sold to whomever is up next on his refill list.
“In cell houses a lot of people [pay for] their own supplies of bleach and disinfectant for the toilet and sink in the cell,” he said. “It’s a balancing act that has to be rebuilt after each shakedown when most of the ‘personal’ cleaning supplies are taken.”
In theory, we can get replacements for clothing and hygiene items through the same process that governs many syringe service programs: “one-to-one” exchange.
“There should be a one for one replacement procedure in place at the local level,” policy states. “For example, to receive a tube of toothpaste, the Offender should provide the previously issued tube, empty, to the control room officer.”
Of course, this makes no difference if there’s nothing in the warehouse for the officer to give back.
*Names have been changed for sources’ protection
Image via South Dakota Department of Corrections