Eating Disorder
Arriving in London a few years ago, I knew I'd arrived in a strange place indeed when I overheard one girl say to her friend, "fancy coming over for organic Chinese takeaway on Friday night?" Without even a flicker of self-consciousness or irony. Organic Chinese takeaway! Not even in my wildest flights of fancy had I imagined there might exist something as ludicrously poncey. That was then. I've since discovered that there are many many more poncey things available to London’s populace.
But perhaps most disgustingly, I have turned into the sort of person who would invite her friend over for organic Chinese takeway. Yes, I am one of those hideous food twats you meet in life - and the longer I stay here the worse I get. Organic delivery boxes, fair-trade, free-range, bird-friendly, non air-freighted, unrefined, unbleached, wholewheat, msg-free, corn fed, vine ripened, 100% pure squeezed, live, non-hydrogenated, low sodium, the list goes on and on. The hours of my life spent turning over packets of food to frown at the ingredients, weighing up the benefits of buying the organic backed beans over the low-salt, low-sugar baked beans. Agonising over whether it’s better to get fair-trade or organic; free-range or organic; air freighted organic or locally grown non-organic; choosing between a breakfast cereal I actually like and one that tastes of old dust and bird grit, but has the benefits of being low in sugar and salt.
The money I’ve wasted! I could actually afford to buy new clothes at if I just gave up poncing about like a twat in Waitrose. I certainly don’t have the income to match this food habit. With this sort of food, the less the put in it, the more you pay. And it keeps getting worse and worse: once there was concentrated orange juice, then there was 100% pure squeezed (turns out the rest of the civilised world knew about this years ago, but in my family we thought we were pretty impressive buying the concentrated juice that had the orangey bits put back in), then it was organic 100% pure squeezed, now – low and behold – it’s fair-trade organic 100% pure squeezed. Why must they do this to me? I saw it for the first time the other day, bit my bottom lip, shut my eyes and picked up a carton of the regular stuff (100% pure squeezed). I felt guilty for days – hell I still feel guilty, hence the desire to confess all here. But listen, they may be offering the workers a fair wage, but it would be nice if they offered the consumers a fair price at the same time. I can’t go on like this! How I long for the days when I could eat a No Frills fishfinger sandwich without choking on the knowledge that the cod is over-fished, the breadcrumbs are full of colourings and additives, the bread is filled with starch and the marg is full of hydrogenated fat.
But worst of all? When my sister suggested we go for a colonic irrigation the other day I got all excited and said, “yes! I’d love to go for one of those!” It was the first my conscious mind knew about it, I think that dead-eyed, sour-faced old cow off the TV who seems to spend her life poking about in other people’s shit must be sending out subliminal messages.
My only solace? I remain resolutely immune to all this bollocks about Gluten and Wheat… But it’s only a matter of time.
But perhaps most disgustingly, I have turned into the sort of person who would invite her friend over for organic Chinese takeway. Yes, I am one of those hideous food twats you meet in life - and the longer I stay here the worse I get. Organic delivery boxes, fair-trade, free-range, bird-friendly, non air-freighted, unrefined, unbleached, wholewheat, msg-free, corn fed, vine ripened, 100% pure squeezed, live, non-hydrogenated, low sodium, the list goes on and on. The hours of my life spent turning over packets of food to frown at the ingredients, weighing up the benefits of buying the organic backed beans over the low-salt, low-sugar baked beans. Agonising over whether it’s better to get fair-trade or organic; free-range or organic; air freighted organic or locally grown non-organic; choosing between a breakfast cereal I actually like and one that tastes of old dust and bird grit, but has the benefits of being low in sugar and salt.
The money I’ve wasted! I could actually afford to buy new clothes at if I just gave up poncing about like a twat in Waitrose. I certainly don’t have the income to match this food habit. With this sort of food, the less the put in it, the more you pay. And it keeps getting worse and worse: once there was concentrated orange juice, then there was 100% pure squeezed (turns out the rest of the civilised world knew about this years ago, but in my family we thought we were pretty impressive buying the concentrated juice that had the orangey bits put back in), then it was organic 100% pure squeezed, now – low and behold – it’s fair-trade organic 100% pure squeezed. Why must they do this to me? I saw it for the first time the other day, bit my bottom lip, shut my eyes and picked up a carton of the regular stuff (100% pure squeezed). I felt guilty for days – hell I still feel guilty, hence the desire to confess all here. But listen, they may be offering the workers a fair wage, but it would be nice if they offered the consumers a fair price at the same time. I can’t go on like this! How I long for the days when I could eat a No Frills fishfinger sandwich without choking on the knowledge that the cod is over-fished, the breadcrumbs are full of colourings and additives, the bread is filled with starch and the marg is full of hydrogenated fat.
But worst of all? When my sister suggested we go for a colonic irrigation the other day I got all excited and said, “yes! I’d love to go for one of those!” It was the first my conscious mind knew about it, I think that dead-eyed, sour-faced old cow off the TV who seems to spend her life poking about in other people’s shit must be sending out subliminal messages.
My only solace? I remain resolutely immune to all this bollocks about Gluten and Wheat… But it’s only a matter of time.
posted by Shinykatie at 3:51 pm
4 Comments:
Good lord, I shop at Lidl. I have no idea what the Czech ingredients are.
Vanessa
Ah, maybe that's the solution! Shop only at places where I can't understand the packaging. There's still a few foodstuffs left that I refuse to read the ingredients on because I love them too much. Beef jerky is one. God knows what shit that stuff's got in it, but I don't want to know.
Hey, you are what you eat. Most food in 'first world countries' seems to be processed beyond all recognition as edible! It makes sense to not want to put that into your body. Mind, there's none of this organic, environmentally-friendly ponceyness over here in deepest darkest. The food over here is all-natural, and clubs you over the head with the force of a rough and ready caveman. Tito's dad is often seen sucking a rabbit's head clean of flesh at the dinner table, and people actually choose to order stomach stew in restaurant. I have developed quite a fondness for 'anticuchos' - bbqed beef heart, and cannot eat my raw fish without enough hot chillies to kill a small dog. Can't get into the guinea pig, though.
Hmmm
Gluten and wheat aren't all bollocks, you know. Brother can't have gluten, hasn't had it for quarter of a century else he'd be dead, slowly. And my girlfriend can't have wheat, though all it does is turn her red.
Mind you, the mate who (self-diagnosed) won't take wheat unless it's nice annoys me a little.
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