I like to think that I’m a fully paid up member of the style council (on a good day), and some things are definitely verboten. Whilst driving to my Spanish class the other night I was cruising along the inside lane, no hurry, when I was distracted by 4 gleaming full-on headlights in my rear view mirror. The lights were so bright I couldn’t tell what it was, and this was in broad daylight. Seconds later I was gracefully overtaken by a beautiful green Morgan sports car – a rare sight indeed.
Then, to my amazement, I noticed that stuck in the middle of the windscreen of this classic vision of motorness (I’m not a Petrolhead – I just know what looks good) – was a huge SatNav screen. What the ? Style points went from 100 to, maybe, 10 at best, in a flash.
What was the driver thinking? Would you hang furry dice from your Aston Martin? I felt like pulling him over and slapping him around the head for gross style violations. I was so distracted by this incongruity that I missed my turn-off and had to weave my way a couple of miles back through town. Some people ! A gorgeous classic sports car……….and a SatNav ? Whatever happened to pulling over into a garage, rolling out in your butterscotch corduroy trousers while everyone watched, and asking the attendant for directions while everybody drools over your alloys? (Actually, I would have taken the rip at the point of the butterscotch corduroy trousers, but you get the picture.)
There’s no accounting for no taste.