Le Blanc Doodie
Veganism, White Dog Poo + Guiltless Thrifting
Yesterday, I wrote a really delicate piece about artistry and personal integrity. Instead of editing that essay and sharing it with you now, you will be subjected to the following list of thoughtfully silly middle-aged musings. You're welcome.
I think that during all those decades that I was vegan, as chill as I tried to be, I sincerely wanted non-vegans to experience how different it was. How hard it was to eat nothing but plants. How much I loved animals. How ethical I was. How much diarrhea I had. I wish it were easy (possible) to nourish myself fully on plants. Maybe in a tropical paradise, where it’s warm forever and fresh fruit abounds and I don’t desperately need animal fat and vitamin D to stay warm and sane? All of this to say, I’m glad I’m not vegan anymore.
I have been buying beautiful, cheap vintage clothing at thrift stores since I was 17 years old. When I grew tired of wearing (even the most darling) vintage clothes, I would simply donate them back to thrift stores or charities. Then, something changed. I had a kid. Buying secondhand is always the better option. Thrifting and re-selling vintage clothing nowadays, at 40, feels weird - and weirdly necessary. I enjoy it, and I discovered that other people (oftentimes people with a lot more money than me) like what I like, so I will keep doing it. I don't buy mass-produced mall clothes and resell them because they're cute. No, I’m really passionate about well-crafted, long-lasting fashion, so I will keep finding it. It also affords me the tiniest bit of income, so I will keep selling it. It’s always been a valid creative way to make a buck, so I will keep doing it. I experience just a little bit of guilt about being clever and having fun doing it. Criticism of this life choice abounds, but I will keep doing it.
Yeah, I'm still on this: selling carefully selected vintage stuff is also more stimulating for my brain than selling unwanted household ephemera on Marketplace (which I have also done a lot of). In my desperation to make $50 here and there, I have sold everything from a random patio table in a wet, moldy box I found buried in our shed, to a cherished baby piano, to a heavily used white winter jacket that I scrubbed vigorously for hours with a natural stain stick before delivering it to its new owner. Satisfying. Exhausting. Honest work. That is a really effective way of reducing waste and saving money, but it's less a passion project than it is a virtual garage sale. And it is somehow even more time consuming than my passion projects! I am a very transactional seller when it comes to anything other than my art. Marketplace folks are - if I were to generalize - very conversational. To the degree that many of them seemingly want to converse for hours … blue bubble pop-ups forever … under the guise of buying a used cat bed. It's a beautiful thing, really - the platonic Marketplace meet-cute - but it's decidedly not my jam.
Whatever happened to that white dog poo from the 70’s? The answer may surprise you! CW: pictures of poo. It’s kind of like how my cat (who eats only raw meat/organs/bone) has odourless, mess-free poops that are closer to owl pellets than the stinky cat droppings I was subjected to scooping for decades. Mineral rich diet = innocuous bowel movements. This also applies to point #2 above.