Blogger Justin Juul weighs in — just in time for Slow Food Nation this weekend — on the contradictions of fashion and philosophy. Read his thoughts on high-end street gear in a time of economic crisis here, his saga of American Spirits here, and his sassy deconstruction of the Nike and American Apparel connection here.
I became a vegetarian the year my father moved the family from Southern California to a ranch in North Carolina, right across the street from a cow farm. My dad had just retired from the Marine Corps and was on a mission to return to the farm-life he’d abandoned when he enlisted 20 years before. It was totally normal for him, but that shit freaked me out. I’d grown up in small cities on the fringes of military bases across the country and here I was at seventeen years old, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but my two little dogs and a giant herd of cows to keep me company.
Needless to say, I got out of there quick. I jumped on a greyhound bus back to California the day I turned 18 and I haven’t looked back since. But the image of those peaceful cows never left me. Watching them play with my dogs made me realize that animals were pretty similar across the board. I would never eat Burny or Katy, I rationed, so I probably shouldn’t eat the cows either. And so it went. I became a vegetarian because I realized that eating animals is cruel, but wearing them? Well, that’s another story.
You see, although I hate to admit it, I’m sort of a hipster.