This Is Not Berlin: Reflections on SustainabLe Fashion, Slow Living, and the Unexpected Allure of Vegan Schnitzel

Some thoughts and (pretentiously) deep reflections after my first-ever visit to Berlin. Expect ideas and reflections on veganism and vegetarianism, slow living, sustainable fashion—and, of course, the wall.

This is not Berlin…

I’m deliberately borrowing—if not outright stealing—the title from a Mexican film that Rolling Stone listed among the greatest Mexican movies ever made. Back in 2019, just before the world descended into a lockdown madness, I went to the cinema. Perhaps in an attempt to refill my brain with original, alternative, and excellent content—or perhaps because I felt a moral obligation to prove to myself I wasn’t a mass consumer of mass content.

You see, around that time I was wrapping up my first romantic relationship. Yes, I too have fallen in romance—though whether I still trust in romance is up for debate. The breakup was drama-free, smooth even. But amidst all the compliments shared during our brief time together, one comment was there to stay: a sharp and unexpected critique of my streaming habits: "Since you only watch content from that platform, your views are limited to their curated aesthetic," I was told. Ouch! And—annoyingly—they were right.

So, newly single and determined to prove I was more than an algorithm’s puppet, I returned to the cinema. I saw then This Is Not Berlin, a film about a rebellious teen discovering Mexico City’s underground nightlife scene, mentored by a friend recently back from Berlin who is trying to create art in the city just as he learnt in his days back in Berlin. The performances and aesthetics he explores are ultimately dismissed by his peers—this is not Berlin, they tell him.

And that’s the title I borrow here. Because some of the reflections I share might only make sense in Berlin. Or perhaps they’re just a romanticised echo of how I experienced the city for first time. Still, I offer them here, with no demure, as conversation starters—and as justifications for why I must, obviously, go back soon.

vegan and vegetarianism, slow living, sustainable fashion—and, of course, the wall.

On Vegan and Vegetarianism…

No, we shall not all need to become vegan or vegetarian. But surprised I was how easy it was to be either in Berlin. From street food to snob dining, from rustic locals to high-concept gastronomic temples— vegan and vegetarian options abound.

Berlin was not in the list of exquisite places, but it was a palet delight. And no, vegetarian options stand not just for salads and mushrooms, but the opportunity to eat even the local highlights without having to give up the vegan - shout out to Berlin’s vegan currywurst !

Beyond the gustatory joy, there’s a deeper insight: what if sustainability wasn’t just available, but easy? Human beings are creatures of habit— when the different apears the gut shouts with fear towards the new, the complicated, the unknown. But if sustainability became a default, not the dramatic alternative, maybe we’d start treating it as the rule rather than the exception. Not a moral burden, not a greenwashed trend—but a habit.

Research is missing here—but scholar friends, you are welcome to take note from these humble questions: What happened in Berlin that made the vegan and vegetarian boom boomed? And how do we replicate that in other industries, in other cities?

Sustainability shouldn’t be a niche taste or a luxury. The real revolution begins when it becomes simple, accessible, and unremarkable in its normality. Sustainability as an array of options and an easy to find feature, let’s do.

On Sustainable Fashion…

Yes, the enormous fast fashion stores with their towering glass facades and endlessly flowing crowds they are there. Strongly. But just like food—fashion offers a wide spectrum. And here, we shall focus on the sustainable end.

Secondhand is a trend everywhere and Berlin is no exception. Still,  I was honestly shocked by the size and scale of the second-hand stores. Usually, the places I frequent follow a style(and a particular fragrance): either full-on rock ‘n roll or Coachella-core hippie aesthetics. (Yes, I’m generalising—trying to be witty, probably failing.)

Back to serious, Berlin’s thrift stores were... diverse. When a 5-level second hand store is an option, we can expect nothing less. From curated vintage to 5-euro second hand products pop-up, the preloved is a realistic option for the many.

Of course,  second hand brings up some questions to discuss.  For instance: Is it fair to have fast fashion pieces in these stores? Does second hand release us from the anxiety of overconsumption since we can always give it away? Does overconsumption in second hand should be discussed -and discouraged- as well? The fat overpricing of second hand should be transparent?… please stop the questions… alright… but beyond the questions, same as food, delightful  is to see second hand is vast and beyond.

Second-hand isn’t the end of the story. Berlin also boasts significant number of upcycling brands—even in major shopping malls. Usually featured through collectives, thus these brands don’t just sell clothes, they foster social economies and capital, as well.

Creating brands based on upcyling easy is not. Thus a heartwarming surprise to find them around.  And since we are talking about different economies and systems, let’s jump into the slower life.

On Slow Living…

Berlin felt... calm. Peaceful. Slow—but not in an inefficient or lethargic way. Slow as in the slow movement. The kind of slow that makes room for thought, for conversation, for real life, for mindfulness.

Maybe I should visit Frankfurt to feel Europe’s financial pulse—but Berlin? Berlin lives differently.

Shops open later (something I, as a die-hard morning person, noticed immediately). Restaurants warn you your meal will take 20 minutes because it's made fresh—and then serve you the best apple pie of your life 30 minutes later. Small boutiques limit how many customers they can serve at once—not out of exclusivity, but care.

That’s not customer service. That’s people service. And we need more of it.

Maybe I stumbled into an alternative Berlin bubble—but even so, it’s worth noting. And emulating.

And Finally, the Wall…

For many reasons, and with many reflections to do around the topic and metaphor, the wall is not broken but still there. Although the one that split Berlin and this the world into two is now no more than a mere reflection of the past and Cold War days, the construction of walls all around the world is more current than never before.

For the moment, the metaphor will be used as an opportunity to create bridges and avoid walls to spread sustainable lifestyles. So let’s flip the metaphor. Let’s use it to talk about bridges instead. About how sustainability, slow living, conscious consumption—these shouldn’t stay trapped on one side of the wall, but taken to the other side through a plethora of bridges.

Let’s wrap it up

Maybe I just saw one side of the wall, but we can break it and spread it to the other side. Maybe I only saw one side of Berlin, but what if we could take the wall dow? Maybe we can take that vision and expand it outward?

Yet, maybe, this is not Berlin. Maybe it was just a dream, a brief moment of romanticised clarity in a city. Maybe, time it is now to go back to the movies and rewatch Goodbye Lenin—that iconic film that once made me dream of Berlin in the first place. Maybe that’s why my Berlin experience felt like a cinematic romantic drama. But this time, I’ll see Goodbye Lenin not as a farewell to a dream, but as a bridge—between nostalgia and a better future. One with sustainability as a wide array of possibilities. One with sustainability as a humane mindful way of living. One with sustainability as a bridge builder and not as the confrontation of two opposing worlds.

And maybe, just maybe, it is Berlin after all.

Ciao ciao for now.