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ExtraVirgin August 2010
Environment Leonie Joubert offers some tips on how to go green when you really can’t be bothered to recycle, including how to shag your way there.

Rest on the fifth: you’ll need to nuance your argument a bit here, but tell your boss you’re cutting back to a four-day work week. You’ll earn less, so you’ll spend less, and you’ll consume less. You might need to deal with some of those existential itches that one often avoids through bouts of retail therapy, but that’s not such a bad thing at a karmic level. Seriously, there’s an entire school of thought which argues that the economy should be reined in this way.

Condomise: because, let’s be honest, abstinence is a big ask in anyone’s language. Prophylactics don’t only save you having to change nappies and sterilise babies’ bottles for years, they also cut back on the strain we’re putting on our over-extracted resources.

You get the picture. Granted, this won’t be popular with the broody types, but it’s worth considering keeping the family unit small.

Ditch the housekeeping: well, not completely, but hold back on the dishwasher and laundry until you’ve got a full load. Bearing in mind you’ll need to have more underwear to see you through the lean times between cycles. And if you do find that you slipped up on the “condomise” bit, when your youngster’s big enough, send the little scamp out to hang up the laundry rather than shoving it in the tumble drier – your clothes’ll last longer, your woolly jumper won’t shrink to the size of a surgical glove, and you’ll slash your energy bills.

Work from home: not an option for everyone, but working from home takes a T-Rex sized chunk out of your travel carbon budget.

Leafy lunches: I see the resistance already, but work with me. Lunch: leaves from a bag, handful of baby tomatoes, snap peas (only if they’re in season, locally grown), celery, cucumber, pinch of sunflower seeds. Takes five minutes to throw together, and your cholesterol levels will plummet. I know, it’s not steak, but the cow farting thing is scarily true.

Voyeuristic voyager: why subject yourself to the horror of yellow fever shots, dodgy taxi drivers and airport lounge delays? Become an armchair traveller – get to Outer Mongolia through the telly.

Trees, be gone: getting your media fix on your computer or phone means your purveyor of all things entertaining and enlightening needn’t buy half a forest of trees for each issue, or glug down several dozen barrels of crude to ship the glossy to your front door.