IT’S NOT EASY EATING GREEN

A REPORTER GOES HELL FOR LEATHER TO BE VEGAN BUT THERE’S MORE THAN MEATS THE EYE TO VEGGING OUT – OUR WORLD ISN’T SET UP FOR IT

It probably wasn’t the best idea to become a vegan purist when your fridge and pantry weren’t properly stocked. But with much of my news feed focused on vegan activists protesting, I wanted to know what it was like to choose a lifestyle for a cause. And more appropriately, how much time and effort it took to care so much.

So, I decided to become a vegan purist for a week. But as each day wore on and presented a new set of challenges, I slowly longed for it to be over. A vegan purist wasn’t as simple as avoiding meat. It came with a host of other inconveniences.

FRIDAY

No meat or dairy. “Easy,” I think to myself. I weigh myself to see if my vegan journey will end in weight loss and I walk to my local cafe for my daily dose – almond flat white. I make a salad for lunch and I have to remind myself “no feta”.

I have dinner plans at the local pub. As I leave, I realise I’m wearing leather shoes so I throw on canvas shoes that don’t match my outfit. “Hot chips, please,” I tell the waiter – the menu is not vegan-friendly.

When I get home, I request to join the Vegan Activist Facebook group.

SATURDAY

I go to an AFL football game and I wonder if the MCG is vegan-friendly. I think about ordering hot chips but settle for a falafel wrap. I make pizza with just vegetables for dinner, again remind myself, “no cheese.” Somehow, I get food poisoning. I’m awake most of the night throwing up. Not a great start.

SUNDAY

I have a shower and proudly whip out vegan soap, then examine my shampoo. It’s not vegan so I decide against washing my hair this week. I eat popcorn and watch daytime television – still not feeling great. I have plans, so I drag my sad self away from House Rules and to the pub for more hot chips. I consider my food choices and it’s clear I’m not the epitome of vegan health.

MONDAY

I rekindle my raisin toast love affair. Lunch is my go-to walnut, pear, rocket salad (no cheese) with sourdough bread. At the shop, I check the labels for animal by-products so it takes me twice as long to shop.

Today I feel bloated, agitated and lethargic. I eat more raisin toast and look in the fridge for pre-made vegan goods. None. I eat peanut butter on toast and watch a rom-com. It’s day 4 and I’m feeling restricted already. But I know I need to go food shopping.

TUESDAY

Today I did some reading. Eating in bars, restaurants and cafes that sell meat is against vegan purists’ beliefs.

That means Coles is also out of the question too. In fact, it supports the very industry I’m fighting against.

I decide to cancel my Wednesday dinner and Friday lunch plans. It’s too hard to convince a group of meat eaters to go to a vegan restaurant.

WEDNESDAY

My skin is dull. I have a headache. I make the trip to the markets to buy my food and it costs me an arm and a leg. “All vegan purists must be rich,” I think as I look in my empty purse.

Dinner is roasted vegetables. I feel good about my shopping decisions. Local. Organic. vegan purist. No food poisoning.

THURSDAY

My concerns this week are, ditching my local cafe and cancelling my social plans. My friends advise me, “just don’t eat the meat,” or “pick off the cheese,” but they don’t understand my cause.

I then wonder how much money I’ve spent buying vegan treats. I decide a lot and look at my bank account. It’s true. A lot. I lie on the couch lethargic and make a note to drink more water and eat less bread.

FRIDAY

I have the last piece of stale fruit toast and swear I’ll never eat bread in such high doses again. I’ve gained 1.2kg due to my vegan choices, still have a headache, and my social life consists of extended couch time. I have worn out my canvas shoes, my bank balance is in rapid decline, and I’m sick of checking food labels.

My vegan purist phase has ended and I’m ready to reconnect with society. But just as I’m about to renounce my vegan purist lifestyle, I receive a Facebook notification. The Vegan Activist group has accepted my request to join. “Finally, I’m one of them.” My first question to them will be, “How do you sustain a social life?”