Colored Cotton Gets Tangled In Law -- State Restricts California Woman's Potentially Big International Market.

WASCO, Calif. - Build a better mousetrap, and the world may beat a path to your door.

But breed a brilliant cotton, and you're in for trouble.

Just ask Sally Fox.

Fox, 34, has revived the ancient Incan science of growing naturally colored cotton - a fluffy fiber that actually bursts from its bolls in shades of brown and green and, she hopes someday soon, pinks and blues. Customers already are lining up to buy as much as she can grow.

In fact, cotton mills on three continents already have shown an interest in obtaining as much of Fox's colored cotton as possible so they can investigate its uses.

The problem is, the state of California won't let her grow very much of it. And in the future, it may not let her grow any at all.

To defend its reputation for growing some of the best cotton in the country, California has a strict ``one-variety'' rule that is enforced by the Acala Cotton Board. That regulation lets the established growers who sit on the board use the force of law to forbid competitors to grow any cotton other than the Acala variety.

Acala is a brilliant white ``medium-staple'' variety of cotton - that is, it has long, fine, strong fibers that spin easily into thread. Acala also is easily dyed and grows well in the soil and weather conditions of the southern San Joaquin Valley in Central California.

The one-variety rule was bent last year to accommodate growers who are rushing to plant an even finer cotton variety called Pima. But the cotton board voted 9-3 late last year against a similar exemption that would let Fox grow commercial quantities of her new colored cotton.

Fox's cotton has shorter, weaker fibers than Acala. The cotton board fears that if too much colored cotton is planted in California, it may mix with Acala, reducing its whiteness or fiber

California has a strict `one-variety' rule that is enforced by the Acala Cotton Board.

quality and hurting the state's reputation among buyers.

Fox, supported by other growers and researchers, disputes this.

Cotton-board decisions ``are destroying my business,'' sighed Fox, who has a graduate degree in entomology, the study of insects, and who started breeding colored cotton as a hobby in 1982. She added, ``It's very frustrating, and not very smart.''

Squeezed between the Acala Cotton Board, which says it cannot by law permit anybody to plant what it argues is an inferior variety on more than a 160-acre test plot, and a growing customer list that includes amateur weavers and giant corporations, Fox said she may have to leave California, the country's second-largest cotton-producing state.

Texas, the country's leading cotton state, is wooing Fox with technical aid and grant offers, and she test-planted 80 acres outside Lubbock, Texas, last year. But Fox, a fourth-generation Californian, said she prefers to find a way to remain working, living and experimenting in the small San Joaquin Valley farm town of Wasco, about 130 miles north of Los Angeles.

From there, on a typewriter perched in the living room of the modest rented house that serves as headquarters for Fox's one-person company, Natural Cotton Colours Inc., she appealed the cotton board's Nov. 28 decision to deny her request to plant 2,000 acres of colored cotton.

Henry Voss, director of the state Department of Food and Agriculture, said Jan. 5 that neither he nor Gov. George Deukmejian would reverse the decision of the established growers who sit on the board.

On Jan. 23, the cotton board voted to let Fox continue growing only on her 160-acre ``test plot.''

``I don't know what to do,'' Fox said. ``Some people said I should wait for the state to change its mind - or its law - but others say I have a head start and I should move and take advantage of it (by going to Texas) rather than let someone catch up to me.''

Independent cotton breeders and federal cotton researchers credit Fox with making colored cotton commercially viable by cross-breeding it with other varieties to improve its fibers. That made the cotton compatible with new high-speed automated spinning machines.

Fox appreciates the accolades but said the cotton board's decision stops her from enjoying the fruits of her research - and could let other, better-capitalized growers catch up to her. ``I should be miles ahead of the field,'' she said, ``but they won't let me.''

Several other growers in Buttonwillow, Visalia and other San Joaquin Valley cotton towns said they support Fox, but they declined to go on the record for fear of offending the cotton board, which also regulates their operations.

``It (colored cotton) doesn't reduce the quality of California cotton - and that's been proven,'' one man said. He said that when managed properly, colored cotton ``doesn't cross-breed (with white cotton), it doesn't contaminate the gins, it doesn't do anything bad.''

``We grow all kinds of specialty niche crops here in California - kiwis and I don't know what else,'' the grower continued. ``California is famous for it. But they won't allow this. It's crazy.''

Cotton-board members say they have no choice. California's one-variety law flatly forbids the introduction of ``inferior'' varieties. While some people may argue that color makes Fox's cotton superior in one sense, the board said tests show its fiber quality just doesn't measure up to Acala.

Fox became interested in colored cotton while she was living in San Diego and pursuing her hobby of hand-spinning yarn. She chose to investigate colored cotton as a potential cash crop when other hand-spinners also displayed interest in the curious material. Word of mouth about her colored cotton spread so fast among her friends and their friends that she started selling it by mail. That mail-order business now supports her while she tries to develop a broader market.

The Palo Alto, Calif., native and Peace Corps veteran, while working on nonchemical agricultural pest-control methods at a San Diego laboratory, set up a nascent base in Wasco, about 225 miles to the north. Thereafter, she would drive up to Wasco on weekends and bunk down with friends while tending one-acre test plots.

She initially planted brown seeds given to her by a former employer, also a cotton breeder, and expected to see one consistent shade of brown cotton lint. Instead, she saw tans and medium browns, a sage green and even a weak pink.

``At first I thought, `Oh, no. There goes my business,' '' she said. ``Well, actually, I was really excited. All the colors! It was like nothing else I had ever seen - or even heard about.''

Part of Fox's desire to stay in the southern San Joaquin Valley is that the area is naturally low in cotton-crop pests. This makes it easier to pursue her parallel dream of producing ``organic'' cotton - that is, cotton grown without pesticides or the defoliants that have become so controversial in California's cotton country.