My childhood companion lived in a stately home, reputed to be one of the best in England. Thus, I was lucky enough to spend parts of my childhood in this historical house filled with priceless paintings and antiques steeped in history. But my fondest memory of my childhood here was in the shabby chic drawing room that always smelled of wet dogs. Perhaps that was because the drawing room, despite the Aubusson rugs, were a haven for wet dogs and muddy children. I was very happy here and I often think back with great fondness to those halcyon days where muddy Wellingtons rested carelessly free on faded hassidic sewed my some distant ancestor.
By sad contrast, there were are perfect but cold homes where the children grow up never allowing to let their natural exuberance spill over or to be able to rest with muddy Wellingtons still on their feet. There’s this obsession with physical appearances at the expense of real happiness, of putting external appearances far ahead of the beating heart within. Why worry so much about what other people think?
This empty way of living has found its way into our supermarket shelves in the last few years. Have you noticed how perfectly shaped and uniform in sizes your commercially-produced fruits and vegetables are? They all looked so perfect! But at what costs? The less than perfect ones are often wastefully discarded – yes, just because appearance is valued more than substance in accordance with this empty living mentality. All for show. F*ck the costs.
The UK supermarket chain Asda recently announced that it will be selling off wonky vegetables at a reduced price. The box of wonky but otherwise perfectly good vegetables costs £3.50 and the supermarket says they contain enough to feed a family of four for a week. Good for heart-led shoppers, but sad isn’t it, the way our society is going? Give me wonky vegetables and drawing rooms that smell of wet dogs anytime.