In defense of not always buying local
We’ve all had buyer’s remorse. Maybe it was a new car that’s already having engine trouble. Maybe it was just a ticket to a movie that you couldn’t actually bear to sit through.
But I’ve been experiencing non-local-buyer’s remorse lately. As in, I feel intensely guilty buying a bonsai at Lowe’s when I could have bought something at Campbell’s Greenhouse or Wing Haven Gardens. Same as when I buy a cup of hazelnut coffee at Panera instead of an iced mocha at Rush Espresso. And yet again when I heft a basket around Publix instead of driving to Charlotte Regional Farmers Market. There’s that familiar jab of guilt.
Charlotte has created so much hype — through media and social media — around buying local, whether that involves donuts, coffee, art or craft beer.
It’s to the point that it would feel like sacrilege to post an artsy picture of my GT’s Kombucha on Instagram right now because it’s “not Charlotte enough” compared to a Lenny Boy bottle or to my own experimental home brew.
When it comes to not buying local, sometimes it’s a matter of inconvenience (driving multiple miles to King’s Drive Farmers Market after work vs. walking to Publix) and sometimes it’s a matter of cost (that Chock-Full o’ Nuts coffee I scooped into my pour-over this morning was about $5 cheaper than a bag of Pure Intentions or Magnolia Coffee beans. But it didn’t taste as good.)
The point: Should we feel buyer’s remorse when we make a purchase that isn’t local? Maybe. The Institute for Local Self-Reliance points out that “small-scale, locally owned businesses create communities that are more prosperous, entrepreneurial, connected and generally better off.” Some studies show a connection between locally-owned businesses and income growth, plus lower levels of poverty.
And we’re not exactly encouraging Charlotte to evolve culturally if we’re not investing in local talent, either. We can’t expect the local arts scene to take off if we ignore new exhibitions or gallery receptions. We can’t expect the local food scene to take off if we don’t try a taste of a restaurateur’s new concept.
But it would be closed-minded to think that bigger, non-local businesses in Charlotte aren’t supporting locals in some form. Lululemon’s clothing franchise reaches internationally, but the company roots itself in local communities with an ambassadors program. The program supports members of the local fitness community like Aaron Hewitt, who is a PA with OrthoCarolina–Sports Medicine, an endurance trainer at Ultimate CF and a Charlotte Marathon ambassador.
“It’s given me a larger audience base so I can spread my message of health and fitness within our city,” Hewitt said.
Restaurant franchises often support local, too. Babalu (which you should be checking off of your #C5Checklist this week) originated in Mississippi but its new Dilworth staff has plans to bring in-season local, organic, farm-fresh food to the menu from Cold Water Creek Farms in Concord, Barbee Farms in Concord and Boy & Girl Farm in Union County.
Publix has a decent Charlotte beer selection, if that’s your thing.
But even if you’re not clear on local connections within bigger businesses, who is to say your binge buy at Target isn’t supporting the salary of a cashier whose side hustle is local nonprofit work? Who is to say your complicated Starbucks order isn’t just practice for the barista planning to break away and open the next Daily Press?
It’s worth supporting local businesses when you can. But perhaps it’s not so bad when, for whatever reason, you have a day that you don’t.
Still … I wouldn’t post it on Instagram.
Photos: Katie Toussaint
This story was originally published August 2, 2016 at 12:00 AM with the headline "In defense of not always buying local."