Rucksacks Aren’t Cool.

Rucksacks aren’t cool.

I bought one yesterday and marvelously practical as they are, they are definitely not a fashion statement. Have you ever seen a Hollywood star wearing a rucksack? I rest my case. They know it’s the death knell of fashionability. George Clooney in a rucksack? Oscar night? Come on. Phil Collins in a rucksack? Possibly. The reason they are worn on your back is so you don’t have to see how bad you look.

I wore it for the first time yesterday. It felt strange. People were looking at me like I was on day release. Firstly, even in the geek pantheon of rucksacks, mine is a particularly sad model. It’s not one of those sun-weathered-slightly-frayed-canvas-camping rucksacks that scream “ I’ve been to India 3 times on this guy’s back, the stories I could tell….. wild times my friend…..”.It’s not one of those rucksacks at all. It’s black and it’s very new. It’s the ‘businessman getting down with the kids’ model, this rucksack says- “the person I am attached to is afraid of developing a back problem”. This rucksack will never visit Kathmandu. It’s more likely to be seen at a weekend sales conference in Basildon.

I went to a gig wearing it last night (I know….) and one of my friends (?) immediately chimed in with “Did you come straight from school”? (even though I was only wearing it on one shoulder to try and look cooler). I was crushed. He was the rucksack bully and I was 12 years old again. The most tragic thing was that I’d come straight from my Japanese lesson to the gig so he was, in fact, correct. Twat. I hate my rucksack.

The other thing that bothers me is this rucksack has way too many pockets. It was designed by a pocket fetishist.
It’s day two and I’m still discovering pockets. Strange shaped pockets. Pockets within pockets. My Rucksack is begging me to compartmentalize.
“Come on Jez put your pens in the special pen pocket not in the main compartment, you know you want to!”. Fill my pockets, ALL OF THEM.
STUFF MEEEEEE!. A flaccid rucksack is too sad to contemplate.

My back feels much better though, and when no one is looking I pretend it’s a parachute.

Geronimo!