The Tragically Unhip

My Buddhist, hippie parents were recycling long before the city began curbside collection. I was the only teenager who pocketed her cigarette pack’s plastic wrap while looking for a garbage can instead of just letting it flutter to the ground like a dejected cellophane leaf. And I actually cried in elementary school when I learned about the hole in the ozone layer. So how, then, could it be that I am writing an article about how un-green I am?

Like many of the things I’ve been doing since adolescence that got me picked on à l’époque but are now being adopted by the very same teasers (boycotting fast food restaurants, not eating red meat, etc.), “going green” seems to be the newest cause to be adopted by the hipster elite. Ever since it caught on a few years ago—likely as a result of the popularity of Al Gore’s Oscar-winning documentary An Inconvenient Truth—I’ve noticed that all of the little green things I’ve been doing since childhood have been completely eclipsed by bigger and badder examples of environmental fundamentalism. Now don’t get me wrong: I’m happy that environmentalism is the new trend (as opposed to being pro-war or something), but bandwagons are easy to jump on and philosophies are easy to tout. But what were you doing for the environment before it became hip to try and save it? Unfortunately, I, ever the non-conformist, tend to shy away from trends like they’re the plague. So instead of writing about all the wonderful green things I do, I will give examples of how not to go green by sharing all the terrible, earth-killing habits I have.

Thanks for the tip, ConEd!

1. DO: Take short showers.

I was on the 1 train the other day and I saw that New York electricity company ConEdison had purchased advertising space in the subway cars upon which to post their green suggestions for New Yorkers. One tip that caught my eye was called “Shower Power,” which recommended taking showers over baths as well as using a low-flow showerhead. I thought to myself, “Check and check.” Looks like I’m on the right track here with my bathing habits.

But wait a minute. What happens if you take 45-minute showers? What if you have so many bath products and rituals that it takes you much longer than the average person just to get clean? What if hot water is included in your rent so taking long showers seems like an indirect way of getting back at your landlord who doesn’t care that he’s forcing you to live in a mouse-infested tenement as a result of his absenteeism? And what happens if the only thing that will warm you up after you’ve been chilled to the bone by a cold, Canadian winter day is a steaming-hot shower? Or taking a shower in the dark is the only thing that is quiet and calming enough to help you get your thoughts and feelings in order after a particularly stressful week? And finally, what if you’re a lady who finds, er, alternate uses for her showerhead? Something tells me that maybe taking a bath would in fact be less wasteful under these circumstances.

2. DON’T: Let cute boys drive you around in their Hummer.

One thing I’ve been doing since I got back to New York is reconnecting with old friends. This week, I have plans to hang out with an old acquaintance of mine who’s been affectionately nicknamed Hummer Guy. Yes, Hummer Guy drives a Hummer, and if you’ve never been in one, let me tell you: those things are ginormous.

Now, I’m too lazy to bother researching emissions statistics for these vehicles, but the word on the street is that they’re pretty bad for the environment. Hummer Guy defends his Hummer by saying that his commute is a lot shorter than people’s who drive into the city from much farther away but in less gas-guzzling cars. Touché. But frankly, I couldn’t give hide nor hair.

See, I walk everywhere I go. I even have a kick scooter back home in Montreal, which my mother forbade me from purchasing when I lived in New York for fear that I would die at the hands (or wheels) of a crazy New York driver. Sometimes I even take the metro. But I never drive. So for me, getting chauffeured around in a giant, car-crushing clunker is a real treat. I know I look ridiculous—this tiny little girl in a truck that’s bigger than her apartment—but I don’t care. Give me a ride in a Hummer every now and then and I’ll be happy.

M by MJ (Photos by GDM)

3. DO: Use a reusable shopping bag.

There is a Whole Foods on the corner of the street I used to live on in Chelsea. One morning, I exited the building to find a lineup extending from the Whole Foods to past my front door and around the corner. It was 8 in the morning and it was teeming rain, but the faithful were standing in line under their umbrellas as though waiting for Madonna tickets to go on sale. I then realized what was going on: It was the day that Whole Foods would begin selling their limited-edition Anya Hindmarch “I’m NOT a Plastic Bag” bags. They sold out in record time and later fetched up to $400 on eBay.

Personally, I liked Whole Foods’ plastic bags. (And don’t even get me started on the abundance of individually-wrapped plastic utensils I used to steal from there.) The cashiers used to double-bag everything, so I always came home with more plastic bags than I needed. I used them for everything, but especially to line my trash can, as they were sturdy and strong and never got holes in them, so I never had to worry about garbage juice leaking onto my pants whenever I took down the trash.

But even the most devout plastic bag-user wants to save the planet every now and then, so I took my bad self to the Marc Jacobs store on Bleecker and bought a $20 reusable canvas shopping bag. One of my girlfriends saw it and decided she wanted one too. So maybe I do lead by example after all.