Recently, I decided to make the leap and purchase an iPhone. I was tired of my Blackberry melting down like a German in a diving competition every time I needed to search the web, and every other fashion blogger on planet Earth has one, so it felt like the right thing to do.
Shortly after buying the phone, I decided to purchase a case for it. I really don’t know why I thought this was necessary since I’ve owned eight cell phones over the past twelve years and never felt the need to decorate any of them. But nevertheless, hours after purchasing my iPhone, there I was, on the Internet, searching for a case that truly captured my essence.
There were metallic cases and Swarovski-encrusted cases. There were cases with sports logos and personalized monograms. There were cases that glowed in the dark or had flashing lights. There were even cases that smell like your favorite flavor of Jelly Belly.
Live in a cold climate? How about an iPhone case covered in real fur?
And, of course, there’s a Hello Kitty case. Or 200 Hello Kitty cases. Heaven forbid Sanrio miss out on a single penny of that billion dollar empire.
But the most abhorrent thing I found during my search for an iPhone case was this monstrosity:
Even more horrifying? It’s being sold at my beloved Nordstrom. [facepalm]
After I finished weeping bitter tears, I began to wonder about the kind of person who carries a bunny-shaped iPhone case complete with pointy ears and bushy tail. Who is the target demographic for this product? What person would buy an iPhone in an attempt to look cool and urbane (isn’t that why we all own them?), and then wrap it in a fluffy pink bunny case?
Teenage girls, sure. But what grown person with a checking account and health insurance would carry such a thing? I was determined to believe that no such person could exist. Then, during my trip to New York, I found my unicorn.
My friend and I were sitting in the dining room of a restaurant with three Michelin stars when the woman at the table behind us pulled out a lime green bunny phone. (Did I forget to mention that it comes in six colors? Including the very masculine black with striped bushy tail?)
She was tall, attractive, late-30s. She was wearing Manolos and a selection of Hermes bracelets. And yet, there she was texting on a phone shaped like a freaking bunny.
I wanted to ask her why. I wanted to ask her if she was dropped on her head as a child, or if she’d done too many club drugs during her misspent youth. I wanted to ask if she was making a philosphical statement about a topic that I wasn’t intelligent enough to understand. But I didn’t. I just watched in horror as she held her plastic lagomorph by the ears and dropped it into her Chloe bag.
And then I ordered another cocktail. A double.
I’m all for self-expression. After all, that’s what clothes and fashion are all about. I’m even willing to stretch the boundaries a bit and accept that choosing a whimsical, colorful case helps a person embrace his or her individuality.
But a case with ears and a furry, bushy tail? I would endorse the wearing of Uggs in public before I would give the Rabito and its kin my stamp of approval.
All joking aside, before you step into your next business meeting, look down at your iPhone and ask yourself: What would my supervisor/client/Boss think if he/she saw this phone? Because had I seen the woman from the restaurant on the street, I would have thought that she looked amazing and stylish. But having seen her hidden shame, she would have to take a bullet for me before I could refer to her as anything other than the Woman with the Lime Green Bunny Phone.