In my day-to-day life, I try to focus on simple, well-made things that reflect my personal aesthetics and beliefs. I am not always successful, take, for instance—the post holiday shopping habit that has now lasted until February. Not that it’s major things I crave, its more the hunt itself.
Usually, I am content to buy generic and no-name products, firmly believing that
design trumps label. But not always. I have been know to be seduced by
obscure designer labels whose looks/products are so smart, that buying them seems less an act of mindless acquisition, and more the act of a collector. At least that’s what I tell myself when struggling up to the counter to pay for whatever denim+burlap+chiffon creation I'm "acquiring," then spend the next six months trying to figure out a place to wear.
Often while shopping, I find myself far afield of my quest: a search for jeans results in a new necklace, workout gear turns into new pots and pans, winter snowboots become a swimsuit…the list goes on and on in absurdity, and there is no more need for me to innumerate my follies.
But wait.
Yesterday, while stopping of at the grocery store to pick up items suitable for stewing, I parked nose-to-nose with a
Smart Car. Last year, when Smart Cars first came to Jacksonville, I was super-excited. Not only are they absurdly cute, but, I thought, they’d be super gas-efficiant. Plus, they are made by Mercedes Benz.
However, when I went out to test-drive one (surprisingly fun for the short among us), I failed to notice the tri-pointed star, encased in a circle on the nose of the car.
This changes everything.
Though in the days following my test-drive, as I read the specs and thought about the practicality of such a tiny car in Jacksonville where—let’s keep it really real—there is no dearth of parking, and that doesn’t get much better gas mileage than my current 4-banger sedan, I opted out.
However, when I saw that tiny logo, with all of it desire-inducing heritage, I felt my lust for the tiny car that I can’t help but think resembles a lotus slipper, return. It was with the same dizzying force that I once wanted to be a homeowner (now, a new roof, peeling linoleum, and limping kitchen appliances later, the bloom has [ahem] faded).
In this city, and for the life that I lead, the Smart Car really isn’t so smart. And I will not be buying one anytime soon. Not even the tart yellow one with a drop-top that seems built especially for me. Not only was the car designed for use within cities where parking is a premium—NYC, Chicago, San Francisco, even perhaps Miami—it wasn’t really designed to hop on the highway and to take long-ish trips. All features pretty much required here in Jacksonville.
Though I love the idea of smaller, and more sustainable, I must also bow to the practical and common sensical. I must laugh at myself for the desire induced by a logo, and comfort myself with a nice rambling post…well, that and maybe a trip to Violet; after all, I do need a new wallet…
