This fan sucks. I wandered around for two hours looking at all the different fans available in my neighborhood. They all sucked. Some of them sucked outright and proud and only cost $19.95. Others were gussied up with silver-painted plastic and light-up buttons and those cost $39.95. I saw one actually-good fan. It was
made by Whirlpool and its cage was deep, the shape of, say, two Altoids stacked. Sturdy base, clickless angling, quiet. Unique method of oscillation, where the fan pivots within its cage and the cage stays still. A queasy little thing to watch, queasy-pretty. $79.99.
Was about to pay as much but it turned out that the floor model was the only unit left, and the floor model broke while I was operating it. So it was back to the dollar store for this Breeze’n, which shudders and flaps on its plastic stand, whose blades bobble drunkenly, whose feet fell off while I was still stripping it of its packaging.
$29.95. Came with a remote. I have already thrown the remote away. Why waste a battery? I despise this fan.
There are certain reasons to be rich. Being able to buy your way out of bottom-rung appliances is one such reason. You need to have $80 available in order to not be saddled with pre-busted garbage. $80 is not trivial! I know that we’re all wealthy because of the internet or something: we all built famous apps and we successfully word-of-mouthed our band and we sell mad merch and our photography show totally happened and our Kindle single sales are paying our Brooklyn rents and we have a great logo (thanks, dribbble!) for our homemade jam and everyone, everyone, everyone is buying our jam. We have $80 on hand because we’re so flush with jam cash that we can buy a fan that really makes a statement. We also sell t-shirts about jam fandom and between the t-shirt cash and the jam cash we can probably spring for a Dyson, that bladeless one you can pitch a kitten through. Now that’s a fan.
I know that we are all wealthy because of the internet, but $80 still feels like a lot to spend on a fan.
And $29.95 is clearly too little to spend on a fan. Theoretically I am a designer and my lifestyle is supposed to reflect as much, and here is this Breeze’n with its nightmare kerning and its tragicomic name. Who will take my services seriously after seeing my fan?
Sex Pigeon is my inspiration, my muse, my light and my life.