Livin' on the Veg

by Chuck Thomson | photography by Brittany Moore

I've found the love of my life. It’s a pair of square-toed, ankle-cut Kenneth Cole loafers in black leather, with a functioning pewter buckle on the top of the foot. I’m holding the sumptuous beauties in my hand and preparing for the trauma of parting with $175 plus tax when I come to the utterly demoralizing realization that these and so many other designer shoes are now completely off-limits to me. They are forbidden fruit, for they are leather. Four months into being a vegetarian (and a wannabe vegan), the reality of it all has been brought to a new and evil light. Veganism has finally hit below the belt: it has prevented me from buying Kenneth Cole shoes.

I’ve been able to struggle through forsaking my two favorite foods, bacon and cheddar cheese. I’ve been forced to learn that Transmetropolitan and The Grit serve up the tastiest tofu in town. I’ve learned that soymilk’s chalky texture and vegetable-like taste are mostly masked in the cocoa varieties. It even had occurred to me that, at some undefined point in the future, I would have to face the prospect of no longer buying leather. But I never imagined something as lovely and innocent as a pair of Kenneth Cole loafers as a stumbling block on my path to ecological redemption.

Going vegetarian, simply not eating meat, would be hard enough, but I’m trying my damnedest to be vegan, which means no consumption or even use of any animal products in any way. No meat, no milk, no cheese, no eggs, no butter, no honey, nothing cooked in butter or animal fat of any kind... and as I now sadly realize, no leather Kenneth Coles.

My then-girlfriend Marissa Yurko, who went vegetarian a few months before me and then converted to veganism a few months after me, is acutely aware of her daily sacrifices. “It’s like I’m on Lent,” laments the former Catholic. “All the time.”

Fast food is all but out of the question, and the majority of restaurants aren’t worth the trouble. While living in Myers Hall, I found it easiest to adhere to my vegan diet at the on-campus dining halls, where the vegetarian and vegan options are clearly labeled as such and are expanding every year. I eat mostly fruits, vegetables and carbs. The dining halls frequently offer appealing meat substitutes, such as “Chipotle Barbecue Riblets,” which comprise whey and soy proteins molded into rib-like shapes and topped with a perfectly spiced southwest-style barbecue sauce.

Compensating for all the protein, iron and calcium I’m missing out on is something I have to consider at every meal of every day. I drink three to four glasses of soymilk a day, which, at 30 percent of the recommended daily allowance per glass, is probably more calcium than I was getting as a carnivore. Add in the 11 grams of protein per glass, and soymilk is veritable ambrosia sent down by the vegan gods. Considering the multivitamin and the iron supplement I take, I’m definitely eating more healthfully than when I was as a meat eater.

Beyond just food consumption, my motivations for becoming vegan influence other areas of my life that aren’t directly related to veganism. I no longer kill bugs that make themselves welcome in my home, which is no easy task considering my sometimes paralyzing fear of most things with more than four legs. (I now have someone else catch the little critters and set them free outside my living space.) I’ve even changed my mind on the abortion issue: once a hard-core pro-lifer, I now approve of this legalized murder as a way of reducing human overpopulation. I drive my car less and walk and carpool more. I recycle. I buy products made from recycled materials. I don’t shop at Wal-Mart, as they are the corporate embodiment of consumer culture, over-production and human excess. I evaluate political candidates by their environmental policy, instead of their economic. The list goes on and on.

What epiphany led to these life-changing decisions? Every time I struggle to forego a succulent piece of medium-rare New York Strip or a cold and refreshing glass of milk, I ask myself the same question.

Inspired by Daniel Quinn’s Ishmael, I believe that “civilized” humans have decided that we as a species are outside the jurisdiction of the laws of nature. We believe we are free to annex as much of the planet as necessary and mine it, farm it or otherwise destroy it in order to support as many humans as possible. As the end result of evolution, we are the most important species on the planet, and it is perfectly justifiable to kill off other life forms in order to sustain an ever-increasing human population.

Like an early aviator who thought he’d achieved flight by jumping off a cliff with wooden wings strapped to his arms, we as a culture believe we’ve risen above the animals by disengaging ourselves from nature’s laws. Yet through our flagrant disregard for the health of the global ecosystem, we are hurtling ever faster toward a crash landing of extinction. If we don’t dramatically change our way of life, we’re going to exhaust the resources upon which we’ve come to depend. We’re going to kill ourselves off, and we’re going to take much of life on Earth with us.

Giving up animal products won’t solve the problem, but it’s a step. Animal-based food requires three times more farmland to produce than the same amount of crop-based food, according to www.redefiningprogress.org. I want to leave as much of this planet as possible to other species, and I choose my food sources accordingly.

“Veganism is more of a statement than a solution,” Marissa says.

My veganism inspires me to take more care of the ecosystem in all kinds of little ways, and I can only hope that it inspires the same in others. Because if it doesn’t make a difference, I’m going to be really, really irritated.

I really could have used those Kenneth Coles.