God save little shops, china cups, and virginity

This is a horrendous long one! Grit your teeth!

Those of you who have been with me for a while (and for those of you, congratulations and hello!) may remember that I once had a dramatic Damascene revelation in Sheringham and decided I was going to make more of an effort to avoid supermarkets and seek out more local options. Well, it has been quite a ride. It has had high points, i.e. I have discovered that there is still fruit that tastes like fruit in this world, and have been introduced to such things as purslane, sea bream, sloes, samphire, it has been thrilling. It has had low points, notably when I managed to spend £7 on a single portion of fish, how did I manage this and was it gold plated or the fish equivalent of fillet steak, I do not know but fortunately it has not been repeated. Before I started heading bravely out and seeking out markets and farm shops, this is what I thought of the whole avoiding-supermarkets situation:

1/ I thought people who made a point of avoiding supermarkets were effete middle class people who ought to be worrying about more serious things.
2/ I thought there were no local shopping alternatives anywhere near where I live.
3/ I thought when people talked about non-supermarket shopping they meant things like expensive Italian delis like on  food programmes on the TV where you go and buy a slice of proscuitto and a small block of parmesan and it costs you £10.
4/ I didn’t understand what people were talking about when they said eating seasonally was cheaper.
5/ I thought if I was busy or tired it was reasonable that cooking was the first thing to go and I could be perfectly healthy if I chose my ready meals carefully.

And the moral of this is, never pose with a pig, even a dead one, as the resulting photograph will inevitably turn up on some kind of protest literature

What I actually found was that there were lots of local alternatives to the supermarkets, and as soon as I looked for them, I found them. Like pixies. And they aren’t special expensive delis: they’re as cheap as or cheaper than the supermarket, for miles better quality. I mean, I don’t think it makes a difference necessarily in terms of taste if you’re getting your tinned tomatoes from the wholefood co-operative or Tesco, but for things like fruit and veg, meat and fish and especially CHEESE, I can’t describe how different it is when it’s not from the supermarket. And being able to get a sense of the seasons, and what’s new in, is so much easier, because you just cook what’s in season, simply. Then when you’re bored of eating rhubarb or peas or whatever bang, it’s out of season, and it’s time for something else. Whereas I couldn’t get any sense of what was in season when I bought things from the supermarket, because TBH, unless I got really lucky, strawberries from Tesco tasted just as crap in July as they did in January and often are on offer at really strange times anyway.

In terms of eating supermarket ready meals: I now cook from scratch for (virtually) every single meal. It’s often no more trouble than putting a ready meal in the oven, because I don’t cook complicated things all the time, and now I’m buying better food I don’t mind having it plain. I don’t know if it’s better for me, but I will tell you that I used to have IBS so badly that up until last year I used to spend a couple of days every fortnight doubled up with stomach ache, if I woke up too early I would throw up, and it was generally a bit miserable to be spending quite so much time googling ‘acute appendicitis’ every five minutes and wondering if I ought to drive myself to casualty. Now my stomach is fine, and I look a lot healthier. Obviously there are other factors (trust me on this one) so don’t take that as gospel, but, you know, I do wonder if eating better food has helped a tiny bit.

I can absolutely promise you that this shop sells things you can't find in Tesco

So this has been my experience. I don’t think we should have no supermarkets at all, I can see why that would be inconvenient: but I think there should be the choice to not shop there, and I think a vibrant non-supermarket food culture is a necessary thing. Unfortunately though, it feels a bit like, if Tesco or Sainsbury’s have decided they are going to bring their special brand of never-quite-fresh food to your neighbourhood, it is as if it has been ordained by God. You have got to have them. There is nothing you can do. You can fight, but they can fight harder. You can campaign, but they can campaign longer. I had been thinking about this because of what is happening on Mill Road in Cambridge, and then there was this article in the Guardian which talked about it as well.

Basically, because the supermarkets have levels of wealth that would make Croesus a bit nervous, they buy their way out of the planning regulations. They do this by appealing, appealing and appealing again, while the council runs out of money to fight the appeals, until they get a foothold, or by offering to pay for other things a town might need at the same time as building their depressing warehouse full of crisps. In Clay Cross, which is near where I am from, Tesco used the latter method, and gave Clay Cross money to ‘redevelop’ in return for building a huge superstore in the town centre. In Cambridge, which is a (relatively) wealthy city, Tesco used the first trick to get a supermarket on Mill Road, which is famous for its independent shops. Now Sainsbury’s is trying to open a store a couple of hundred yards down the road.

Apparently not universal support for a new Sainsbury's

People are protesting. Opposite the proposed Sainsbury’s is Al-Amin, which is a lovely grocery shop which has lots of brilliant things which Sainsbury’s would never stock in a million years, and the owner is standing for Chancellor of the University to publicise what is happening. There is an action group. There is the Mill Road Song (God help us). But, this is the thing: there was a HUGE swell of protest against Tesco, before. There were petitions. There were meetings. There were people arguing nicely and compellingly. There was an anarchist collective established in the building Tesco wanted to take over which held events for the local community. And none of it worked. Tesco opened. And I cannot believe that Sainsbury’s won’t open, too. For those of you thinking, well, people could just not shop there, that is true: but, Sainsbury’s and Tesco make huge, huge profits. Do you think every store they open has to turn a profit? Do you not think some of them might just be useful strategically? And for those of you thinking, well, perhaps there are some people who live near Mill Road who would find a local supermarket useful, well, yes, I agree. But the first Tesco was opened practically next door to a big Co-op: there was a supermarket there already. There is another small Tesco round the corner. There is a huge Sainsbury’s at the end of the road. There is a huge Asda behind. This is nothing about making useful provision for the local people; it is about destroying an area to make a profit. I do find it a bit depressing.

Now, this is where I normally think of something cheerful to say at the end: but, like I say, I do think it’s a bit depressing, so instead I’m going to recommend some things to read which will depress you more, but if you’re interested it’s worth having a look. When I was at university, someone once had a Tesco Value Range party (aaaaand I was at Oxford. You are more than welcome to refer to my last post about poverty tourism). They were more innocent times, when the blue and white of the Value Range was looked on with affection, and when Tesco was not seen as a mean old rampaging beast. Perhaps if the Big Four would all bugger off with their mad expansionist plans those happy times could come again?

Further Reading:
Tescopoly. Information, articles and reports on the impact of supermarket expansion
Shopped, by Joanna Blythman. This is v exciting and actually a page turner
Bad Food Britain, also by Joanna Blythman – more about the effects of supermarkets on our food culture. I am her biggest fan in a non-creepy way
The No Mill Road Tesco campaign which failed
The No Mill Road Sainsbury’s campaign setting off
Clay Cross, which was ‘regenerated’ with money from Tesco (I rang and asked how much but they refused to give me a figure, although he said they wouldn’t ever have had the chance to regenerate Clay Cross without Tesco)
Guardian article on supermarket protesters, no beard or muesli necessary

Shopping local and risking looking foolish with the fish man

Now. For those of you who have been with me since last year (and gosh, well done if you have), you may remember that the Truth was revealed to me in the middle of Sheringham, and I decided I was going to do more of my food shopping in small independent shops and less in supermarkets. Then I read Shopped and various other anti-supermarket books and bored all my loved ones with my discoveries, became righteously indignant about various encroachments Tesco was making into North Derbyshire, and rang the man from the Clay Cross planning department and alarmed him with my questions about how much of Clay Cross Tesco now owns (he wouldn’t tell me. He was very nice though, we had a long chat. I think he was worried I might be an incompetent Guardian reporter). So I like to update you periodically with how I am getting on with my efforts to bring down the supermarket monopoly single-handedly by buying my sausages from the butcher down the road and not from Waitrose.

I can call in for a sausage and then pop in to town via the river and it is much nicer than trailing round the artificially lit Mordor

Partner says I am just making my life more difficult and he thinks I have masochistic tendencies. He says instead of my various things I do i.e. knitting my own socks and similar, perhaps instead I could just hit my hand with a hammer as this would give me the same effect but with less trouble. As soon as he sees me heading off looking grimly determined with my Hemp Shopper, he mimes hitting his hand and says, ‘Ow! Ow!’ and then laughs. It has not yet palled for Partner. He also says my life is now like this Monty Python sketch of John Cleese in a cheese shop, I have to tell you that I do not find Monty Python funny. Not any of it. Not the dead parrot, nothing. I have watched this sketch all the way through to check there is nothing obscene before I link it, and my opinion of MP has not changed.

Anyway, it is all very exciting because I thought I would try shopping in independent shops for a week and then give up and go back to Tesco. However, I have not, I now shop in independent shops more than when I first started and was keen. I do still do a weekly shop at Tesco, but for fewer and fewer things (although I’ve found it hard to replace the supermarket for things like washing powder and toilet rolls. Ecover stuff is twice the price at the wholefood co-operative). I have found that I spend far less on food, and, actually, it is much cheaper to buy some things at small shops, like, free range eggs, vegetables, and meat (I never bought the really cheap meat, though). Instead of doing a weekly shop in just one place, I now go shopping about 4 times a week. I do the supermarket and the wholefood co-operative at the weekend, then I do a quick run to the butcher, the farm shop for fruit and veg, and the cheese shop on Monday morning, the veg box comes on Tuesday, then on Wednesday I go and get some fish from the fish van.

I actually go to a veg stall just out of shot on the right and the man says to me 'don't have the plums, they aren't sweet enough. Have this rhubarb!' and I am impressed by his honesty and product knowledge. It doesn't take much

Now, you are reading that and thinking, God that sounds a performance and she’d never manage to do that if she worked in an office. Well, readers, this is where I am going to surprise you, because actually it is easier than the once a week supermarket shop (honestly), and, if I went back to working behind a desk 12 hours a day fortified only by coffee and fury, then, knowing what I know now, I actually would do a version of it. For instance, it is no more trouble to get the bulk of our stuff from the wholefood co-operative and then get the rest from Tesco than it is to only go to Tesco: it’s actually easier, because going to the wholefood co-operative is on the way, and is much more pleasant, so I enjoy my shop there. And the veg box comes anyway, so whatever hours I was working it would be easier to have one delivered than go schlepping about dragging back potatoes. And I might be able to go to a butcher/ fishmonger near where I was working.

I never realised until I stopped doing about 50% of it quite how much I hated supermarket shopping. I really hated it! The fruit that you buy even though it won’t taste of anything, having to predict what you’ll want to eat all week when really you’ve got no clue, pushing your trolley round like a pratt thinking, God, where have they put the harissa. I felt like I never really wanted to eat what I ended up buying. Also the person at the till always tells me how fed up they are. One person gave me a long explanation about how Tesco always stiffed her on overtime and how she missed her old job, where she’d done something completely horrendous like work for a major pharmaceutical company poking guinea pigs with a bodkin, but at least everyone knew her name (I don’t go round asking people how Tesco is treating them, I want you to know, she did volunteer the information ;-) ). And a man once in Asda gave me a long explanation of how Asda was manipulating me as a customer. I mean, he was quite right, but the man in the fish van never tells me how I’m being cheated. He looks like he thinks I’m getting some rather fine fish. And I am!

One thing I have found with shopping in independent shops is that it was a bit of a learning curve. For instance, I have become very fond of a cheese called Cornish Yarg which I buy from the cheese shop and which is wrapped in nettles (cheese shop cheese is seriously an entirely other breed). When I last went in to buy my Cornish Yarg I had a sudden panic that I was pronouncing it wrong and that in fact it should be pronounced Yurglurglurgle or something ridiculous, like Belvoir is*. I have found in circumstances like this I have to be brave and ask. The thing with supermarkets is, you never risk looking daft as you never have to talk to anyone. You just pick up your item in a packet and then you go to the till and grunt. Whereas, in a small shop, you have to chat and say things like ‘how much braising steak is 500g’ or ‘what is your cheapest fish today’ or, ‘I would like just one very large potato please’. I always feel I will walk in and a spotlight will shine on me and a voice will say, this woman has no idea how many grams of Red Leicester is an appropriate amount for two adults for lunch for three days, because she is insufficiently middle class. I have decided this is my own insecurity and so now I just smile sweetly and ask my silly questions or gesture with my hands (‘this much!’) because the alternative is ending up with a small piece of fish which costs £7, as once happened to me. I decided that as a one-off I would look upon this as an Idiot Tax, but my budget does not allow for too many Idiot Taxes, so now I interact.

The cheese shop appears to do pork pies as well, be still my beating heart

Anyway, those are my Independent Shopping Adventures and I look forward to many more. It seriously is loads more fun, also it takes me wandering around the back streets of Cambridge and I have discovered that the area I live in is not as depressing as everyone tells me it is, it is actually quite nice. And I can stop and stroke unfamiliar pussycats, some of them are rather furrily striking (and terrifyingly trusting. Pussycats! Be cynical!). I accept I haven’t quite brought down Tesco yet, but on the plus side, we’ve had some really amazing cheese. Is there a better kind of activism than that?

* Beaver. I know you know but just in case you don't.

Cook *all* the things!

At the moment I find myself Cutting Back On Spending, apart from the Orla Kiely kitchen storage jars I have just ordered (and my mother shamed me! She said, ‘how can a storage jar possibly cost that much money!?’ – I am comforting myself with the idea that it would have cost us quite a bit more if I had not decorated the kitchen myself and now I am exhausted and have paint in my eye, chiz chiz. But yes I do feel bad! On the other hand, look at those patterns! Handmade in Portugal!). Anyway, I am Cutting Back and I find myself making good use, like a culinary Womble, of the things that I find in the Veg Box. And I have had a realisation. And I am afraid it must be shared.

Poor thing struggling through the undergrowth (not my garden I hasten to add). But look! It's Spring!

The way to make cooking hard is this: have a society where it isn’t expected that people cook from scratch every day, and so sell them lots of things which bear some resemblance to actual food, and pretend to be just as good as actual food, but which taste rubbish. And then put on cookery programmes either where people make cooking look as if it is something you just would not want to do – like Heston Blumenthal, where his head might look like a potato but none of his food does – or Nigella, where all the ingredients are expensive and are only used in one dish so every meal is costing you £20.

Pussy Willows! See! Spring! Hooray!

And, the way to make cooking easy, actually, and however counter-intuitive this sounds, is to cook, from scratch, for every meal, and cook only seasonal things. Because then not only do you have leftovers, but your choice of what to eat is vastly reduced. And this is a wonderful thing. Because normally, in supermarkets, you are presented with an infinite choice of foods, none of which is really much good, whereas if you eat seasonally (either with your trusty veg box or with your own veg if you are clever!) you have very little choice, but it does taste of something (you may not feel like this when you have had Swede in your box for the fifth week running, but, bear with me). And it is always much better, and more freeing, to have some kind of boundary round any kind of creative endeavour, and so I would much rather be in the position of thinking, what shall I cook with this aubergine from the veg box/ have to go with the leftover stew from Saturday, rather than thinking, what shall I cook at all. Because the first position leads to homecooked delicious new ideas, the second to despair and a meltdown in Marks and Spencer.

Now I have made myself sound like a food snob and a princess and you are hating me, I am going to make it even worse and tell you what I really think. I am still doing some of my shopping at Tesco, I will be honest, because it is difficult to shop conveniently for some things elsewhere (I am slowly chipping away, but, it is going to be a while yet!). So, upcoming hypocrisy acknowledged and apologised for. However, now I am cooking everything from scratch – which is actually (you might not believe me on this one, and I myself would not have believed me a year ago, but, it is true!) no more trouble than buying things ready made – I walk round Tesco and I look at some things and I think, how can people eat this. There, I said it. Why are we eating it? The quality is dreadful. Why do we put up with such terrible quality from the big supermarkets? Things that look like food, and taste a bit like what they are supposed to taste of, but, a bowdlerised, dumbed-down, watery version. I am tempted to go off into a great big digression about the Evils For Society of people as consumers only ever being offered things that are unsatisfying and unreal and make you hungrier even as you get fuller, but instead I am going to just give you comparisons here of things where the difference is so egregious I cannot understand why we are not storming supermarket headquarters and saying in a diffident British way, look, this is a bit rubbish. We wondered if perhaps you might be able to divert some of your profits to, ooo we don’t know, making things very slightly better quality. No? Too much trouble? Oh ok then, we understand. Enjoy your dividends!

Mordor. Do you see the Eye of Sauron? I do. I see it

1/ Compare a ready-made sandwich bought from any supermarket with one you have made yourself, using fresh homemade bread, and butter. In particular, imagine a homemade sandwich made of fresh bread, butter, sharp cheddar and thick-sliced beetroot still warm from the oven. No? Prefer an Asda Egg Mayonnaise?

2/  Compare oven chips to chips you have cut up yourself and oven roasted.

3/ Compare a fruit scone you have bought, which will do that awful sticking-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth and drying-your-tongue thing, with one you have just made, fresh from the oven.

What do you think?

OK, off to practice what I preach and make an omelette for dinner. With veg from the veg box! Go me! Although I have to confess to you that I have no idea what to do with my pumpkin :-(.

Woolly Almost-WIP Wednesday

OK. I’ve accepted, emotionally, that we’re having a Woolly Week, so I just wanted to show you a couple of things I’ve (gasp) recently managed to finish, before I get back to sewing again next week (although, if anyone is wanting a fabric fix in the meantime, do have a look at Mumma Troll’s blog and her beautiful, beautiful quilt). So thanks to Tami from Tami’s Amis for hosting WIP Wednesday again, which I think is a great idea, thanks Tami! I’m sorry my WIPs aren’t strictly speaking WIPs, one is an almost-WIP and the others are no longer In Progress But Finished, but they’re in the spirit. Indulge me a tiny bit?

First, one ray of sun pierced the dense clouds surrounding North Cambridge today and the rain stopped for at least 50 seconds, so I whipped round and took some photos. Here is my Malabrigo Lace, aka a WIP-Wannabee:

Soft as the government regulations which apply to supermarkets, but nicer

Isn’t it pretty? I might make it into a featherweight cardigan or I might just keep it and stroke it like a pet. And I took a photo of my finished Citron, which is finished apart from blocking (sorry it’s on the dummy but it’s just too difficult to take a photo of your own back).

If I had known I would spend so much of my life photographing this door I might have painted it. Probably wouldn't, to be honest

I did 5 repeats in the end. I would have done six but I thought one more might cause me to lose it, and possibly run naked through the streets of Cambridge gesturing with a Denise interchangeable needle shouting no more bloody ruffles, no more. And frankly, that wasn’t a risk I was prepared to take. Would you have been? So, 5 ruffles makes a little shoulder-cover, and I actually quite like the length, I think it works.

I think this is rather cool even though I do say so myself

I did want one big shawl though, for this winter when our heating will be, as ever, inadequate in the face of the icy gales which blow straight from the Urals, so I decided to extend the crochet one I did a few weeks ago – this ended up using about 2 3/4 balls of King Cole Riot so came in at under £10. There we are, that’s me for you, price of everything, value of nothing.

I think I pulled something getting into this position

And because I am finishing things up at the moment, here are some boring vanilla top-down socks. I knit the most boring socks in the world and then wear them to death. Handknitted socks are one of the things where you can’t believe how much better they are until you’ve tried them although they are also one of the things that take so long to knit that they cannot be bought by money. Then I whipped up a bun and ate it. Coffee and walnut.

This is a Local Bun for Local People. There's nothing for you here

Also, just quickly, I wanted to update you about Lush. You remember I queried the localness of their products (and yes, I know I sound like Tubbs. I can’t help it. Some things cast a long shadow). Well, they emailed me back a very nice, well-thought out email, and had obviously checked their facts in some detail – it wasn’t just a standard response. They source 3 ingredients near to their factory in Dorset, and they also have a policy of trying to source ingredients from near their other factories in other countries, to reduce travel. They also ship ingredients rather than air-freight them. No ingredients/ processing are local to the shop in London which had the advert I was objecting to. So, do I think their customer services people are very helpful and knowledgeable? Yes I do. Do I think they are making an effort to source ingredients in a reasonably ethical/ eco-friendly way? From the information I have, yes, I think they probably are making more of an effort than many companies. Do I still think the advert was disingenuous and misleading? Readers, I’m afraid I do. And do I think that's a problem? Well, yes, I'm afraid so, because of the reasons I gave before.

So when you see your local Lush advertising that if you buy its products you will be buying fresh and local, remember that actually, you won’t be, not unless you live in Dorset, although that doesn’t mean that buying their products is necessarily a bad idea. It’s just like if I told you I looked exactly like a supermodel but possibly even more attractive, and then you met me, you might be unable to appreciate my many undoubtedly fine qualities because of the insistent voice in your head saying ‘she looks as much like a supermodel as I look like a sausage roll’. That is how I feel about Lush’s advertising campaign.

So there we are, I have managed a metaphor involving Lush products and a sausage roll and I think that is quite enough for one evening. I shall go and make dinner (potato scones! All traditional British food involves either potatoes or flour. It is compulsory. Or dripping. Are you jealous, non-UK readers? Are you?).

The Wool Shop Tour of the Eastern Region

OK, so I am starting to feel a little bit as if I live in the Wool Shop capital of the world. Whenever I go out of Cambridge, I find marvellous, marvellous wool shops.

A wool shop a wool shop a wool shop! Shall I go in, oh go on then might as well

I’m starting to think I should start Wool Shop Tours Of The Eastern Region. It would be great. We could hire a coach and I could be just like my hero, Brendan from Coach Trip. I would have a clipboard and I could shepherd (see what I did there?) my flock of knitters around the wilder reaches of the Fens, in a whirl of yarn and buns. I promise I wouldn’t make you go to Aldeburgh. We could play Red Devils on the bus, or Pub Cricket, or the game my mother invented where the first person to see a man with a beard out of the window wins (we used to make our own entertainment). Now doesn’t that sound better than Knit Camp? Touring the Fens on a steamy bus and shouting at men with beards? Of course it does. Shall I start organising it? Shall I ring up about visas?

The sign, it beckoned, but I needed no encouragement

So, yesterday I went to Ely Wool Shop. For those of you who know Ely, it’s right opposite the Cromwell museum. I went in search of some nice yarn to send to my swap partner in the Ravelry Blog Hub swap, which I got, hooray. And then, I was slightly mugged by some Malabrigo Lace which I saw sitting near the till. Malabrigo Lace! Exactly the colour of a summer sky! (I think I can remember what a summer sky looks like). I squeaked with involuntary delight. I patted it. It was like patting a gentle woolly cloud. Readers, I am afraid some Malabrigo Lace came home with me for a Featherweight Cardigan. Because you may remember the Citron, and how much I enjoy knitting long, long rows of laceweight. But I promise I will not moan (and actually the Citron is now finished and looking rather smart. If there is enough light to take photos in I will unveil it tomorrow).

Anyway, I loved Ely Wool Shop, and I thought it had a really nice, varied selection of wool – Malabrigo (it is so soft!), Manos del Uruguay, Artesano and lots, lots more, also a lovely selection of buttons, needles and what not. I liked it very much. My yarn budget is now essentially spent up to 2015 but who knows, I may win the lottery or I may have a moment of weakness and be back. I am quite likely to have a moment of weakness, if I am honest with myself. More likely than I am to win the lottery, as I wouldn’t know how to buy a ticket.

I want to touch it. Do you want to touch it? I do

There was one thing that threw me a little, though. I’m sure I spotted a couple of the giant balls of Aran. Does this throw my Wool Shop Theory out of the water? It’s possible that a New New Wave of Wool Shops is emerging which combines the best of all styles and worlds, giant Aran, Malabrigo, lovely wooden needles and light and airy surroundings. That sounds ok to me.

I am not going to look at you because I am part of the display. This is my job. Jeez

The one thing Ely Wool Shop didn’t have was a window display quite as innovative as this one I spotted a couple of doors down. I just put that forward as a suggestion, because I’m sure cat + wool wouldn’t be a completely disastrous and appalling combination at all. We all know cats are easy to train.

How to make Sugar Scrub (and a tiny bit more anti-capitalism).

We nipped off to London quickly this weekend for a weekend away before Partner starts autumn term (Partner works for the university, I'm not involved with a sixth former). I had fun eyeing up brightly patterned things in Pop Boutique in Seven Dials and wondering if I might wish to make such cushion covers.

I wish my house looked like this and actually I don't know why it doesn't

Cupcakes may also have become involved.

That is Partner's hand. Oh my God, he said, are you photographing your bun? Stop it! None of your blog readers care about your bun

And (and if anyone wants to give me a gold star here I think one is probably warranted,) I braved the tourists at Portobello Road market on the Saturday morning to get to the man under the railway bridge who sells vintage scarves. I had a nice time popping into Books For Cooks, and admiring the shops and stalls, and pondering what seems to be fashionable in vintage this year. I think I may (casually buffs nails on lapel) have been ahead of the game with my sparkly butterfly top, which I will dig out and show you when we have some light here which is not grey. It is quite a top, and fine if I don’t sit in front of any lights, although if I do they reflect off me like a disco ball which can be a bit embarrassing.

I feel the thing which improves an antique shop more than probably anything is when the outside is sparkly

But then unfortunately, oh no. I came upon something which annoyed me.

Lush. Not entirely my idea of local, I would suspect. Not entirely my idea of fresh, either, come to that

Local, I thought? I don’t think so. Lush is a national chain. So I looked on their website, which tells me about 3 UK suppliers, although there could obviously well be more, and also tells me that Lush operates in 46 countries, which I didn’t know. I suspect their idea of local is ‘some of our ingredients are produced in the UK’. Which is fine, and there’s nothing wrong with that, in fact, good on them: but that isn’t my idea of local, and I think that advert is disingenuous and misleading.

Now, is this important? Possibly it isn’t, and I’ve got to say, if I was going to go for the Heartless Face of International Capitalism I wouldn’t start with Lush. They might well be an excellent company, who deal with their suppliers really ethically, and I doubt it's possible for them to source all their ingredients from the UK, anyway. But it just hits a bit of a sour note with me. I have to confess, I probably wouldn't have found this so annoying if it hadn’t been right in the middle of an enormous street market full of people selling handmade and vintage things, and possibly some local produce, including a man with a stall full of handmade cold-process soap (and no marketing budget). Life is tough for independent businesses. It might be tough for the man with his cold-process soap, I didn’t ask him. And for a multi-national company to say that buying their stuff is buying local to take advantage of a shift in what customers want, well, I just don’t think that’s entirely playing fair. But I might be doing Lush an enormous disservice: so that’s why I’ve emailed them to ask how their products are local to the shop I saw, and if I’ve got the completely wrong end of the stick, which I do admittedly get sometimes, I’ll let you know and we’ll add Lush to some kind of mental Retail Heroes List (or even an actual one, because I'll be writing a links section one of these days!).

Finally! Someone else whose idea of minimalism is the same as mine!

And, as a thankyou for staying with me through my anti-capitalist ramblings (and I promise you we’ll have a break for the rest of the week, because I feel my focus shifting to sheep and to Ely Wool Shop where I had a marvellous but financially ruinous time today, I feel it shifting irrevocably), and just because genuinely handmade cosmetics (and on this subject Vivianne from Kismet's Companion has just put some of her soap up for sale! Congrats Vivianne) are actually rather nice, here is my recipe for Brown Sugar Scrub. If you’re in the UK, you can buy ingredients for stuff like this from your nearest health-food shop, or from Helen at Fresholi, who is terrifyingly efficient but in a good way. If you don’t have cup measures, just use anything (or use a small mug) but keep the proportions.

You need:
1 cup brown sugar (I tend to use demerara).
1/2 cup Sweet Almond Oil or olive oil or a mixture.
1/2 teaspoon Vitamin E oil (you can leave this out if you haven’t got it).
1 tablespoon Aloe Oil.
About 15 drops essential oils (whatever you like – I always think lavender/ geranium and patchouli/ ylang ylang go well together. Coffee and vanilla would be delicious).

Basically – just mix everything together in a bowl. That’s it. You can keep it in any kind of container with a top (e.g. a tupperware). You might have to mix it together a bit each time you use it, as the oil tends to separate, but it will last a good long while. Do give it a try, it’s dead easy and nice. And who doesn’t want a gently exfoliated epidermis? I certainly do, but I wanted Malabrigo Lace more. And now I’ve got it! But more about that tomorrow…

Incidentally the revolution will be achieved via scones

When I did my first post about Shopping Local, Anna (sorry Anna don’t know your website to link) left me a comment about some books I could read – she mentioned Not On The Label and Tescopoly. Well, our motto here at Useless Beauty Designs is, never do anything without reading a book on it first, so these recommendations were very welcome. So, I have been reading Not On The Label, and also Bad Food Britain and Shopped: the shocking power of Britain’s supermarkets (excuse the Amazon links, they are just to show you. Support your independent bookseller! - I got mine from Oxfam & the library). Well, Shopped, in particular, is quite a page turner. It has everything: suspense, villains, plucky little heroes, it’s great. Now whenever I pick up a book with a title in a big font, Partner looks at me nervously and says, is this one of those books that make you suck your teeth and say, ooooo? Are you going to tell me how I can’t buy wine from Tesco anymore? So, I suspect I may have become something of a bore in my personal life and, I’m sorry readers, but this is one of the benefits of having a blog, now I can bore you all as well. Hooray! Joke! (Kind of!). Basically (although do read Shopped in particular, I thought it was great), this is what I’ve learned:

The Asda Trolleys of Alienation. I knew this photo would come in handy one day and I'm glad it did because I looked daft taking it

- Supermarkets treat their suppliers badly, and pay them such a low price that they cut corners on quality and the way they treat their workers.

- Supermarkets ride roughshod over planning laws, and have various tactics to force councils into granting them permission to build or expand stores, sometimes despite enormous local opposition.

- Supermarkets dictate to suppliers what they should supply, with the result that our farming industry has been changed for the worse and in a way that isn’t now recoverable.

- Supermarkets try to nudge us into buying more value-added (processed) foods and less ingredients, because the profit margin is higher.

- The number of new jobs supermarkets provide doesn’t compensate in number overall for the number of jobs lost in other shops, and the effect of supermarkets on nearby towns is generally pretty rotten.

When did you last see a mad wooden chicken in a supermarket book section? Shop independent and save the mad wooden chickens!

Now, I’m sure there’s some bias in the way this is reported in the books I’ve read, and I don’t think all local supermarkets necessarily have a bad effect on the places they’re near – I’m sure some can have a helpful, regenerating effect, and bring some useful competition. Likewise, I’m sure not all suppliers are unhappy with the way they’re treated. However (serious face, finger on lip), I think I’ve read enough to convince me that overall, the way supermarkets operate isn’t beneficial for our health, quality of food, diversity of choice, etc, and I’m no longer comfortable with giving them as much of my money as I was previously. So, this is my Manifesto. These are the things I will do:

- Replace as much of my supermarket shop as is practicable with things from the market and independent shops. This has been quite a lot of fun so far, and no more trouble than doing a once-a-week shop at the supermarket. It’s just different. (Basically, you have to chat more).

- Cook as much from scratch as possible. Every time you get your mixing bowl out, Tesco’s share price looks a little bit shakier. Every time you think to yourself ‘I don’t actually believe that the Finest Range is the highest possible peak of gastronomic perfection’, a shiver goes down the spine of Tesco’s chairman. It’s a marvellous revolutionary kind of political act, and it’s even better because you get food at the end of it. Che Guevara might be on a lot of tshirts but he never did anything that produced a cupcake.

Our northern correspondent, i.e. my mother, has sent me a photo of her fruit and veg that she bought from the market and scones, buns, and bread she baked. So I want you to know that although I have convinced one other person, I don't actually demand photographic proof

- Educate myself about food. I am not a bad cook by any means but I’m surprised how little I know about cooking seasonal things, basic recipes etc, and ingredients. Indeed I don’t think the fishmonger respected me yesterday when I couldn’t recognise a Sea Bass (or was it a Sea Bream? Who can tell?).

- Not buy non-food-items or services from supermarkets, because I think they’ve taken over enough of the food part of the retail sector without taking over the rest of it as well. We have our car insurance with Tesco at the moment and I’m going to move it (and yes, I am looking forward to trying to find a really ethical insurer, thanks very much ;-) ). I don’t buy clothes at the moment and the last time I bought something electrical from Tesco it was rubbish (don’t get me started), so I’m not keen to repeat that. So we’re alright until they start selling Malabrigo for 50p a skein in which case I might have a bit of an inner battle.

- Grow My Own. Well, it’s fair to say I’ve failed this year, but by God it can’t be beyond the wit of woman, can it? So next year is going to see me with a trowel in my hand poking at a sprout top and being marvellously connected to the earth and the food chain.

How hard can it all be?

(Aaaaaaand… if you want to know more, there are some good resources at Tescopoly, and some leaflets about the problems with supermarkets at Corporate Watch. I’m just off now to read the one about the problems with supermarket shop local initiatives. Eternal vigilance, people. Eternal vigilance!).

How I am getting on with Shopping Local

For those of you who have been with me for a while, you may remember I had a revelation of sorts in Sheringham, and vowed to try to shop local and not in supermarkets. So, before I plunge back next week into various fibrey & crafty-type things I thought I would give you a quick update on how I was getting on, because it has been quite exciting. I am conscious as I am typing this that some of you shop in independent shops all the time or indeed grow your own veg and have livestock, and will be reading what I am going to write with a rather unimpressed expression.To those of you I can only say, yes, you are quite right and I am embarrassingly deskilled but I am trying. However I am sure there are other people like me who have hitherto done most of their grocery shopping in supermarkets, so, to those people come, come join me on my voyage of adventure away from Tescopoly.

Cambridge Farmers' Market from an admittedly not very attractive angle

So, I started by getting a new veg box. I used to have a veg box from Abel and Cole but I became disenchanted with it because every week I got the same veg. Every week! And I did feel the purpose of a veg box was not to limit your veg horizons but to open them up. Now I pay £10.50 per week for a veg box from the Cambridge Organic Food Company, and for 2 of us I think it is just right (also I choose my veg from what is available each week, which works very well). The veg are so fresh they squeak. I think if you are going to replace anything you buy from the supermarket veg are a good place to start because the supermarket ones are frankly a bit rubbish, and a box just comes every week without you having to think about it. I can also order eggs etc with mine if I wish to do so. Also the man who brings my box is very nice. Partner seems to have struck up some kind of unexpected friendship with the Abel and Cole driver so he was upset initially that we were changing, but he seems now to be reconciled.

Local strawberries for local people. I believe these to be from Oakington which is down the road

I have also started buying our fruit and some supplementary veg from the market. Now, I am not sure it is always local and I am certain it is not organic: but, this is an imperfect world, and I think it’s better to support a local market than a supermarket. This has (says she smugly) been a bit of a success. I am actually a bit astonished by how much better quality the fruit from the market is. And it is much, much cheaper. Marks and Spencer is just off the market square and I must confess I do look at people in there buying their inferior fruit which is 20% more expensive and think, you daft people, what are you thinking of.

Once I had £12.50, but now I am rich in cheese

Cheese and dairy. This is where I came a little unstuck. As I am not used to buying things loose I do not really understand weights, and a visit to the Cambridge Cheese Company resulted in me buying more cheese than you would normally get through in a month even if you were eating Fondue every night, and spending £12.50. £12.50 on cheese! Thank goodness my credit card still works. However (this is a common theme, bear with me) – the cheese is so much better than you would get in the supermarket I cannot actually put the difference into words. It is like hearing Tristan and Isolde properly after only previously having heard someone play it on a Kazoo. I do think it was a little more expensive (although who knows, the whole expedition is a blur of cheese excitement) than you would get in the supermarket, but frankly it is so much better I am never going back, and I will just buy less next time. (Quite a lot less). I have not found a good source of local milk yet, or yoghurt, funnily enough, but if I have time next week I am going to try Arjuna.

Clever marketing idea but not entirely sure how alluring the name is

Meat. I am ex and possibly future vegetarian, and I do not eat a lot of meat, and what I do eat I kind of eat gingerly, I appreciate that that is not morally any better. However, I have started buying my sausages and occasional chicken breast from our local butcher. I have done a side-by-side price comparison and he is no more expensive than the supermarket, indeed sometimes he is cheaper, and again, the difference in quality is like night and day. Seriously: night and day! Partner says he suspects the butcher of being Hilary Briss. I am slightly nervous of the butcher, but when I have plucked up the courage I may quiz him about why his chicken breasts taste quite so different, if I can think of a way to say that which doesn’t sound in any way suggestive, because that is absolutely the last dynamic we need in our relationship.

Handmade pots by a local artisan, deconstructing capitalism by their very existence

So there we are, those are my discoveries so far. Although I do have to shop more often, and admittedly I can only do this easily as I am working from home at the moment, I don’t actually feel like I spend any more time shopping than I did when I did it all once a week. Also, it feels miles less stressful. It’s like the difference between doing your washing up after each meal, or saving it up and doing it once a week (don’t ask me how I know this). Next I am going to look for other sources for things like toilet rolls, wine, cleaning products etc, and in the meantime we are eating so much better I can’t believe what I was missing out on - I actually feel a bit annoyed!

Interview: Libra Aries Bookshop

Well, you remember I promised you interviews on Fridays? Well I had to have a metaphorical break for a week after doing Keith, who was quite, shall we say, an intense experience and rather unusual in his opinion of mass production, but I’m back with my interviews today! This is Tim and Jean from the Libra Aries bookshop.

I used to work just off Mill Road in Cambridge, and the Libra Aries bookshop was close by so I used to go and have a mooch round at lunchtime. It was my absolutely favourite bookshop in Cambridge, and I got some fabulous books and zines from there, including some great seventies craft books which I’ve never seen anywhere else, the Reiki Subversive’s handbook, some brilliant pagan Yule cards, my favourite book ever on Wicca, and lots of other stuff. What I loved about it was that it stocked books and zines from what were clearly tiny producers, and had a wonderful, eclectic range of stock which you just don’t get at the large retailers. Then it closed down, after having been quite an iconic part of that bit of Mill Road, and I thought that was a real shame.

I go on about local shopping (and I’m going to be going on at some length next week, brace yourselves. I’ve been reading up!), but I really think shopping locally for books, and making an effort to buy books from independents AND NOT JUST AMAZON, is something we (and definitely I) need to be much more aware about. We’ve lost so many bookshops recently in Cambridge, really nice bookshops, and if a well-off university town can’t sustain independent bookshops then that’s a bit scary. We all end up losing out. Anyway, before I get too far up on my high horse (neigh!), I’ll just add that I saw the Libra Aries bookshop in its new incarnation on Cambridge market one morning, and it was so fabulous to see that it hadn’t disappeared completely that I leapt on it (I leapt on it in cyberspace!) and I asked Tim & Jean to be interviewed. And so here we are, I hope you enjoy.

1/ Tell us a little bit about you and your shop.
We are Tim and Jean we live in Romsey, and we ran Libra Aries Bookshop for six years, tucked away in a cosy corner of  the Romsey end of Mill Rd. The Bookshop closed in June this year, and frankly we'd been doing very badly for about 18 months. It seems to us that small independent bookshops are becoming a thing of the past, which is a terrible shame.

2/ What makes your shop different?
We always tried to seek out unusual titles from small and sometimes underground publishers, and to deal directly with authors where possible. We decided early on to specialise in subjects that we personally were interested in, and which were not so easily available in larger corporate bookshops. (We call them book-supermarkets because they treat books as if they were tins of beans!)

3/ What would you say has been your biggest learning experience with Libra Aries, and what achievement are you most proud of?
For me our greatest achievement at Libra Aries was our Sunday Tea Party series, which ran every week from March till August 2005, and took the format of a talk or lecture, followed by informal discussion over a cuppa. We were privileged to host talks by a number of published authors - Nigel Pennick, Anna Franklin, Andy Worthington, Bob Trubshaw (publisher of The Folklore Society's Book of the Year), Gordon MacLellan, Prudence Jones - as well as local speakers. Organising and promoting an event every week was exhausting, but rewarding.

Our biggest lesson from running Libra Aries is that nobody EVER got rich selling books.

4/ Are there any of the lines you carry that you’re particularly excited about, or would like to tell us about?
We sell the Earth Pathways 2011 diary, which is a beautiful creature and has contributions by the writer Jean Dark and by the artist Tim Neate, both Tim & Jean live in Cambridge, so there's a local element there. And we are already taking orders for the lovely blue & silver Moon Calendar Posters that were so popular in the Mill Rd shop.

5/ Do you think there’s been an increase in interest in alternative ideas over the last few years, or is it still a niche market?
We think there has certainly been an increase of interest in environmental issues, unfortunately more people are buying books via the internet so the growing awareness has not translated into sales from bookshops, so small independent bookshops will continue to close. Did you know that 4 independent bookshops in Cambridge, including ourselves, have closed in the last 2 years? [Note from me, this includes Galloway and Porter, and Brown's which were also wonderful bookshops].

6/ Does owning an independent shop affect the way you see mass production/ big corporations? Do you try to support independent producers when you shop/ source services yourself?
Obviously we were very aware of the crucial role small & independent authors, publishers and distributors played in supplying books on alternative issues, and we purposely set out to support small independents by buying direct from them, which as a small independent bookshop we could easily do this. It is harder for international giant corporations to be that flexible & work with such diversity. It is a sad fact that centralised ordering based on profitability inevitably leads to a reduction in the range available to the reader. Only the bestsellers get a look in. As more small bookshops close you'll find fewer and fewer titles on sale. We ourselves always shop locally for food and provisions on Mill Road.

7/ What are your plans for Libra Aries for the future?
We are going to continue selling mail order via the internet and taking our bookstall out to camps and festivals, hopefully Strawberry Fair will be back again soon [note from me, this was a bit of a scandal, the police stopped Strawberry Fair], that's one of our favorite events! We also stand on Cambridge market square every wednesday.

You can see more of Libra Aries on their website, where you can buy online, and see them in real life on the market on Wednesdays on their cheerful stall. It’s lovely to have you still around, Tim and Jean, and I hope things go from strength to strength for Libra Aries (the one question I didn’t ask, was, why are you called Libra Aries, and my partner is upset because he wanted to know the answer. Never mind. Interviewing, it is hard ;-).

My first Giveaway!

I keep wanting to do a giveaway and then I think, what if no-one wants it. Well, this is silly and I have decided I am going to grit my teeth through the potential embarrassment of no-one wanting my item aaaaaaaaaaand…do my first giveaway!

Because after the pants trauma I thought I’d do some straight seams for a bit, I’ve been sewing shopping bags. And I’d like to give one away to someone. Might that someone be you, perchance? ;-) They’re the kind of shopping bag you take with you and put in your pocket in case you end up ambling round the market or similar, buying Stuff (so they would be useful if you wanted to Shop Local, not banging my drum or anything.) They’re light and foldable, and unlined/ no fastening (and made from good substantial cotton/ all exposed edges serged.) I’ve been using some of the bolder fabrics from my stash – I love both of these equally, so I’m going to give you a choice! These bags are both in the region of 11.5" by 14" (the African Wax Print one is slightly bigger), and they’re both machine washable. The winner can choose either:

A retro flower-print shopper – this is made from a vintage (poss. seventies) cotton from Finland, and has medium and dark blue flowers on a green background,

An African Wax Print shopper. I bought loads and loads of this fabric from a shop just off Brick Lane to sew on when I was first starting (or, starting to sew seriously), and so it has particular sentimental value for me (sigh). They both have my exciting new label on one side, and the other side is blank.

Also I was listening to YMCA and other classics of that ilk when I was sewing these bags, and I was also doing the dance (no really, I was), so I imagine that will have charged them both up with quite a lot of positive energy ;-).

To enter my giveaway:

Since this is my first one, let’s keep it simple. To enter, just leave me a comment below – that’s all! Tell me which one of these bags you’d like if you win, and tell me something about your favourite local market/ shop and why you like it. Make sure you leave a link to your website or somewhere where I can contact you if you’re the lucky winner. I’ll choose the winner through a random number generator a week from now – 7pm Thursday 12th August, and I might try and produce a tiny separate bonus surprise for the person who leaves my favourite comment (although I don’t know what it might be yet, so it could be a bit random!). I don’t mind where you’re from, I’ll post anywhere.

(Hooray! That wasn’t too painful. Perhaps I’ll even do it again in the future. I won’t get ahead of myself, though. I'll wait to see if anyone enters first.)

What I did on my holidays

I'm back and unfortunately I've had a revelation, which is always inconvenient. Anyway. Photos first, revelation later.

We had an excellent holiday. We started off in Aldeburgh, and travelled round the Suffolk and Norfolk coast to Hunstanton, then drove back to Cambridge. For my American readers who are used to living in a larger country, this is the equivalent of going on holiday to the other end of the street. However, Suffolk especially was quite an experience, and I felt like I had travelled a very, very long way from Cambridge. This was Aldeburgh.

I have not made it look bleak on purpose. Look at that lowering sky! Don't ever go there with anyone you don't like. I can't imagine anything worse than nursing a failing relationship in Aldeburgh. The word on the street in Aldeburgh was that it was an excellent place to go for birdwatching. So if you are into birdwatching and peace and quiet you will have a great time, not so much perhaps if you are into there being a shop open after 6pm.

After Aldeburgh we started to adjust emotionally to the out-of-the-wayness of it all. This was Southwold, taken from the pier. Southwold had a pier! We were taken aback by the entertainment possibilities. Actually, the pier was rather cool and had these funny machines on it:

There were also lots of beach huts.

I liked the beach huts but I suspect they change hands for large amounts of money as they have a retro middle-class charm. Or it is possible they are controlled by the Mafia.

These were vintage mink stoles in a shop window in Sheringham (I know it's very sad :-(, but I couldn't resist the photo!). And it was in Sheringham that I had my revelation. 'This is so weird' I was muttering to Partner. 'All these places are so weird. Why are they so weird?' We considered. Then it came to me.

All the places we went to had high streets full of independent shops (this is Wells Next The Sea). There were hardly any chain stores – a couple of banks, Budgens, the occasional Boots – but that was it. The streets were absolutely full of independent food shops. And that should have been lovely, but actually it was very disconcerting, which is disconcerting in itself. We are so used to high streets being all the same that honestly, going to town after town and not seeing the same old shops felt really strange. Then I began to like it. Then I also realised that everywhere we drove, houses and farms had home grown produce for sale, and fish they had caught. Now, obviously most of this is because of the tourist economy. However, it did seem to me that the shops were fairly rooted in the community as well, for example this one can't be catering only to tourists:

Let's wish Pete well for his recovery! So, as I was walking round these places where all the food was local and sold in independent shops, and the restaurants and B&Bs all served local food and could tell you where everything came from, it struck me. Isn't it actually really weird to not buy local food? Isn't it odd to be so deracinated that we buy food from huge supermarkets, out of season, and have absolutely no idea where it comes from? How on earth have we come to this?

So I'm going to try to reduce the amount of things I buy from supermarkets. I've made a start today by setting up a new veg box (I became a bit disenchanted with my old veg box which seemed to be aimed at people who don't like veg very much) which comes from organic producers around Cambridge. I cannot say I will be able to give up supermarkets immediately (indeed I've got to go to Waitrose tomorrow and stock up!) but I am going to try to make inroads. Anyway we will see. We also have people selling their own produce at the side of the road when you drive outside Cambridge and when I am feeling a bit more assertive I may go off driving around, quizzing people about the origins of their honey and eggs.

Is anyone else trying to give up supermarket shopping? Or does anyone think I'm being unfair on supermarkets? (I don't think I am, but I'm happy to hear the other side!)