I determined to change. I determined to look for the positive. I even started an “in praise of” facebook group that celebrated the nicer side of life, that worked as a rejoinder to the darker side of internet twattishness.
But then my mother-in-law bought us a toaster for Christmas, to replace one whose obsolescence had been carefully calibrated by engineers working to a capitalist template of wanton consumption that frankly had already put me in a bad mood.
And it was then that Victor Meldrew erupted from within me. Like a bad dose of acid reflux. Not immediately, for the new toaster is a thing of beauty. The man, and I am quite sure it was designed by a man, had hewn it from black sheen and shiny metallic buttons. It leans into the kitchen work-tops with a sense of its own entitlement. I'd be very surprised if its formative years weren't spent at Oxford where it got a first in PPE whilst pretending it never went to Eton. It expects you to bow down before it.
It's a classic, apparently. As though a designer can name something such and lo and behold it becomes one. Or maybe it's ironic. The Tefal Avanti Classic. Forwards-leaning and timeless. I see what they were aiming for at their strokey-beard meetings. They just forgot one slight thing.
It doesn't take a slice of bread. Barely half a slice. It's the most fucked up piece of half-arsed, form-over-function, cuntishness I've suffered since Victor Kiam bought the fucking company.