Now men. I am aiming this at you first, knowing that about half way into my ramblings, you’re going to mentally switch off and not pay attention. A little like a dog really, who if he doesn’t hear “walk,” “bone,” or “bath,” turns the entire human end of the discussion into “blah blah blah.”
Imagine, if you will, your favorite "man comfort" things. Your brand of socks, your breed of underwear, your favorite cologne. If you’re anything like Sir, you take your comfort in the fact that you’ve found what suits you best, and therefore there is absolutely no need to look any further, like, forever.
Now, imagine, if you will, the manufacturer of said socks and underdungers decides that it is not attracting a younger, more hip crowd, and the knee high black socks, the knee high white socks and the tidy-whities are just not doing it. I believe I’ve painted an almost startling picture of Sir, but I digress.
So the manufacturer, no doubt under advice from the new 12-year old marketing guru, changes direction and produces polka-dotted and stripy ankle socks and miniature nylon underpants in groovy jungle-themed colors, and throws into the “so last year” basket the ones you like the best, and have bought for the last 40 years.
You’d be pretty peeved, now wouldn’t you? And this is where I might lose some of you.
I have used nail polish (bye, guys) made by a well-known manufacturer whose name made up of initials is suggestive of the name of a small boy from the town of Mayberry, ever since I landed on your fair shores.
After a bit of trial and error, I glommed onto 2 colors – one for winter and one for summer, which suited me just fine, and they and I have had a perfectly pleasant relationship ever since – just as you boys have had with your undies.
Now this Mayberry-boy company decided, possibly under the advice of the abovementioned 12-year-old marketing guru’s sister, that these colors were now old hat and that the company better cater to the teeny boppers of the nation or it would go under.
And so these classic colors were retired – well, in fact they weren’t retired, they were taken out the back and shot – in favor of new trendy ones. They were only deemed "trendy," as the company has forced them on the public, offering them no alternative.
So now instead of a striking red or coral, we get to pick from a range of neon colors which make your eyes bleed, so bright are they; or a set of colors such as khaki, baby-poo brown, restful green and daffodil yellow. Gone are the days of a gentle shimmer – all the colors are now matte, and look like White-Out with a bit of color.
Watch it, manufacturers, we Grecian 2000 type consumers have more money than the 12-year-olds – we shall rise against you. Beware the wrath of a wrinkly scorned!
-- Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org .