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Sit. Shit. Wipe.

If I was to own a restaurant again I would make sure that I had ‘Eat. Drink. Chat.’ on the outside and ‘Sit. Shit.Wipe.’ on the toilet doors.

Oh, I ask myself regularly, who are these brands that insist on telling us what they do? Or, sorry, not what they do, but what we should do when we enter their worlds.

For example, when I arrive at a rather undelivering ‘boutique’ hotel I now expect them to tell me to Eat. Sleep. Relax. Why? Do I not know how to live my life, you condescending bastards?

I was inspired to email the Designate directors from the train to ask them their views of this patronising patriarchal pap that I keep seeing. I was drinking from a cup of coffee that had printed on it “grow pick process grade ship roast brew enjoy”. Enjoy was printed in a different colour in case I had spat out the brown fluid in abhorrence before I reached the end.

Mims responded first by somehow making sexual references out of the entire list, then Jason responded with the view that, and I quote, “It’s a kind of fake minimalism that promises much, but delivers very little.”

It is indeed some form of cloak. It’s for the fakers. The people that need to be told that something is cool. Like the song that I have always hated ‘Eat. Sleep. Rave. Repeat’. I know it was written by Brighton’s finest dance guru Fatboy Slim, but it always felt like it was written for the weekender to me. Eat. Sleep. Fake. Repeat.

So once again, as I bring another ranting blog back to brand, I ask if those brands with real confidence feel the need to patronise us into entering a world that they want us to believe in by not allowing us to make our own mental choice. And my point being that the coffee I was drinking earlier was really good. So what were they not confident about?

Does Nike say ‘Sweat. Breathe. Achieve’ or Heineken ‘Sip. Swallow. Smile’ or Stella, ‘Sip. Swing. Swear’?

No, because they don’t need to. As for Durex, I will leave that to our very own Miriam to come up with.

As for anybody who has Live. Laugh. Love. on their wall at home, please don’t invite me round. The writing is on the wall as they say.

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