My new orange iPhone seems a lot bolder, its nubbly tech woven case a lot cruder than its svelte, steel-blue predecessor, now on its way back to Apple to be reincarnated. I’m afraid some fugitive from Miami Vice is gonna sidle up to me one of these days in Walmart and mutter “brown shoes?” as he reaches for a bag of Cheetos on the next shelf over. Anyway, like it or not, it appears I’ll be fencing with a claymore rather than a rapier for the next two years. Worked for Rob Roy, though, didn’t it?
I do wonder, though, if the damned thing is inevitably destined to become a MAGA magnet. You know, because it’s orange, because of the reptilian case, and because MAGA folks do so love to assert their cultural dominance over anything that attracts their ape-like curiosity.
OMG. One needs serious sunglasses to even look at that orange beast. What an amazing shade of orange. I do, now, speculate your other sartorial choices. I’ll have to ask my “style is everything” 90+ yo hunting buddy his thoughts on this choice of Apple’s. Your musing wrt the Trump Cult seems more probable than not. However, the capacity for mimicry aside, lets not impugn the creative capacity of apes.
I didn’t mean to—I’m a big Jane Goodall fan—and they are our cousins, after all. But still, the MAGA threat displays do seem to resemble an old silverback’s more than they do, say, Gore Vidal’s—an important consideration if we all want to live in peace in a civilization with the sharp edges rounded off. That aside, do you really want to discuss my sartorial choices here, in front of God and everybody?
Well, then—when I was first contemplating retirement, I admit I imagined going out as a sort of downmarket Jimmy Buffett—Panama hat, Hawaiian shirts, shorts, flip-flops, and a piña colada in hand, but then I discovered how much a good Panama hat costs, and how short-lived they are. I also discovered how much better polyester is than it used to be in the 70’s, how much more comfortable, cheap, and durable, and how settling on one color for everything simplified both laundry logistics AND reduced the necessity for sartorial choices to a fading memory of the days when vanity might actually have made a difference in destiny’s favor. I’ve been free ever since.
Uniforms! You got me. I had to wear one for 4 years at a Catholic High School and hated the thing. But let me exit and the first thing I did was settle on a uniform (jeans, turtleneck/T-shirt, tennis shoes) for everything save a funeral. Though I admit I have a strong bias against anything red, save a tomato. You’re right; be conscious of the color choices and LOTS of things become simpler.
FWIW, no red for me either. Another view: My ex, an artist and avid gardener, used to grow early girl tomatoes, her favorite variety. Years later, after we parted ways, she bought a tomato red Toyota Camry. (I don’t remember what Toyota called the color, but it did look a sort of orangey red, like a tomato.) Then she got an “early girl” vanity CA plate. I think she may have had to spell it “erly girl,” but I remember thinking, “how cool is that?” But then, artists, right? They really do show us the way.