The other day, I took a walk around the neighbourhood in the rain – as usual, feigning sportiness by wearing Fabrics That Breathe, but in reality walking too slowly for the activity to resemble any kind of exercise. Anyway. A man jogged past me – early thirties, quite attractive, making good use of Fabrics That Breathe.
Coming around a corner, I saw him again, now in an intense discussion with another, similarly clad, youngish man leaning on his bicycle. Walking past them, I saw that The Jogger had produced an A4 leaflet (from where?) from a kitchen design firm and was now vividly describing his dream of minimalist cabinetry or elegantly built-in appliances to The Cyclist. In the rain. A scene which had a certain poetry to it, two men in functional, brightly coloured materials producing aesthetic visions on a wet pavement. After years of coquettish self-hatred in the middle class over our love of sleek interiors, why not get over it and give in to modern life’s strange beauty?