Guess it's true,
I'm not good at a one night stand.
But, I still need love 'cause I'm just a man.
-- Sam Smith, Stay With Me
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"omg the sweetest girl is selling honey. that is too perfect."
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My entire life, I've never been particularly passionate about the slogan, "Shop local!"
I've been told that I'm an outlier of a person -- "weird," "quirky," "super fucking weird," -- but as far as shopping habits go, I'm pretty mainstream. I don't turn my nose up at stores like Target or even Wal-Mart. Rather than visiting the Farmer's Market, I regularly get my groceries at Albertson's or Safeway. I even spend many mornings picking up a yogurt parfait and a large unsweetened iced tea at McDonald's on my way to work. Most of my clothes, beauty supplies, and foods all have some sort of corporate brand name on them -- H&M, Mossimo, L'Oreal, Dole, General Mills.
I don't think much of it. Back when I went on a few (regretful) dates with an anti-capitalism anarchist (yes, you read that right -__-), I had so few opinions on the things that made him angry. I'm typically a talkative person, but I was so passive with him that he said he liked me because it was like he was "talking to a pillow." (yes, verbatim -__-) He hated The Man and Capitalist Assholes, whereas my shoes are from Payless (and although falling apart, 5/10 would buy again 'cos still... cheap), and my cardigan is from Target. My make-up is from Sephora, and my jacket is from Forever 21. I've just never minded. I wholly play into the profit-making games of big private companies, and I've never lost a wink of sleep over it.
As far as "Shop local!" goes, I have some mild exuberance towards things like coffee and eateries, but in earnest, I have only one real exception:
Honey.
It's an exception that, surprisingly to me (although maybe unsurprising to others), has become part of my reputation over the years. People text me and Facebook message me that something honey-related reminded me of them. For many, I've become their "friend that likes honey."
I care 0% about the brand of most things that I buy, but when it comes to honey, it really matters. I always try to support local honey and promote ethical beekeeping. I always look into the apiaries and honey companies that I buy my honey from. I have checkpoints for ethical beekeeping, e.g. honeys from flowers based in a variety of seasons (focusing on blossoms from only one season promotes poor bee health during off-seasons), and I try not to support companies that sell royal jelly (royal jelly harvest is more stressful on bees than honey/beeswax harvest). I don't have a history of frequenting farmer's markets except for when I learn that a local honey company is selling a honey varietal that I don't own yet.
My fascination with honey goes on -- I've taken a beekeeping class and am flying to the Bay Area next month to take another, and I've been collecting varietals of honey from around the country.
Most recently, as I've lately written on, I've started a Sunday gig selling honey with The San Diego Honey Company. When I was first interviewing for the job, I thought of it so one-dimensionally, "I'm going to become part of the local honey scene in San Diego! I'm going to learn so much about honey! Honey honey honey!!"
While I knew I was going to dive into the local honey scene, it wasn't until my second weekend on the Market that it sank in -- I'm not just part of the local honey scene, but I was part of the local scene, period. When people in San Diego exclaim, "Shop local," they refer to so many walks of life. They refer to Du Vita jewelry, to the San Diego Salt Farm, to Mikolich Farms, to the San Diego Honey Company.
I was slow to learn, but I realized that when people exclaim, "Shop local," they refer to me. I couldn't see the forest for the trees.
Witnessing the local vendor scene as a fellow local vendor has critically changed my perspective on "Shop local!" When the vendors come around and ask how my sales were that day, and they comment with worry on whether they'll make rent that month. When the vendors not already know just my name after only two weekends, but they know their customers' names, too.
It finally made me rethink the way I shop. I could buy dinner at the Chipotle next to my house, or I could help the delightful people at Gourmet Tamales make rent.
Since then, I've resolved to attend the Farmer's Market near my lab job every Thursday, and to act upon the mantra that I've long neglected, "Shop local! (even if it's not honey!!)"
