Waking up in the morning reveals the inarguable truth that there are different breeds of human. Two breeds to be specific.
Waking up in the morning reveals the inarguable truth that there are different breeds of human. Two breeds to be specific.
There are those that rise three hours before work, go to the gym, cook a full breakfast and never drop a single globule of Aquafresh on their clean clothes. Then there are the rest of us who hit snooze multiple times, accidentally mistake the cat food for coco pops and end it all with a sprint to work while still brushing our teeth en route.
No matter how your day starts, whether it be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, or grumpy and heavily-caffeinated, we all kinda care about how we look. No matter how late you are, a five-second mirror assessment before making any public appearance is mandatory.
We all care about our outward appearances, which is why we have a gazillion fashion stores in Grahamstown and only one stationery outlet. Despite this, for some reason, we don't care about how our transport looks.
Our cars are as much an accessory as they are a necessity but by and large, they're rarely very pretty. Sure, the salesman can fool you into thinking that the new Yaris has speed lines that make it look 'streamlined' but all new car designs are actually quite boring.
Majority of them look the same; the Toyota Aygo, Renault Twingo and Citroen C1 are all cut from the same cloth. Actually, this is literally true as they're all made in the same factory.
There are obvious exceptions to this – Alfa Romeo for example – but in the affordable car market we tend to all drive around in “Little boxes, little boxes, little boxes, all the same”. Hats off to Malvina Reynolds.
But being Festival time, the inspirational vibes pound away at every surface available. One of the most inspirational of which is the transport embellishment visible on our streets. There are the decked-out donkey carts, beautified bakkies and elegant estates.
The colourful Opel Kadett, 'Radical Technology' is definitely the most noticeable, with its hand painted hood and tasseled running boards. It's individual, it speaks about the owner and is an accessory-and-a-half. Granted, re-sale greatly affects our reserve when it comes to painting our favourite band's CD cover on our bonnets.
But in all honesty, how much are you really going to get for your 1990-something Citi Golf anyway? Why not get those creative juices flowing, involve your whole family and papier-mâché a kudu head onto your grill? I think it could teach children a valuable lesson on how imagination can make things beautiful, or really fugly if your modelling skills are anything like mine.
