Rob Scheepers is a comedian who makes both theater programs and television shows. Rob is also a ‘tonpraoter’ (a comedy style at Dutch carnival), a fanatic Twitter user and columnist for magazines and radio shows. Brand enchantment It must have been in mid-November 1989 that my parents sat me down for a chat. Christmas was coming, and I had a choice to make that year. Either ‘Father Christmas’ would leave me the usual heap of presents under the tree, or I could spend that same amount of money on an expensive O’Neill coat. The coat, then, would be my only gift that year. Maybe some chocolate, too, but that was it. I asked for some time to think about it. For days, I weighed the pros and cons down to the smallest detail. At that time, O’Neill was undoubtedly the coolest brand of clothing among the popular boys in the schoolyard. Looking at those hip surfer types, I was positively green with envy. They had cute girlfriends and social status. I had a bright orange coat, bought from a cheap shop two whole years ago. The tag in my coat read ‘Angelo Litrico’. ‘Angelo Litrico is a name brand, too!’ my parents would say, whenever I started in again on my hopeless whingeing about how cool namebrand clothing was. My parents did have a bit of a point, of course. Angelo Litrico was a brand, like Celtics or Leopard. But to me, the point wasn’t to have any old brand printed on the tags of my clothing – I was interested in having the right brand. Other than that, I wasn’t terribly concerned with what the potential coat looked like. Now it felt like I was finally being given the chance to get in, once and for all, with the popular bunch. And that perfect, expensive O’Neill coat on Christmas morning was my ticket. Fitting in because of what you’re wearing, instead of who you are – it’s quite sad, when you think about it. But the odd thing, then, is that the fixation on brands has never really left me. I still attach value to well-known and cool brands. A relic of my childhood, I’m afraid. So what did I ask my parents – I mean Father Christmas – for, that fateful year? I went for the big stack of gifts over the single, solitary coat. And I’d like to be able to tell you that I did it out of a conviction that my classmates should like and accept me for who I was inside. The truth, however, is that in the end, I simply wanted a big heap of presents. I plumped for quantity. It’s a decision I quietly rued the rest of that winter, every time I walked into the schoolyard with my orange Angelo Litrico coat... Rob Scheepers More than anything, I wanted to walk around in Levi jeans, a Lacoste polo and supple Lotto trainers. Like those boys. But my parents refused to spend money on that sort of thing. So instead, I popped about in Wrangler jeans and a jumper bought at another cheap shop, with shapeless trainers of dubious origin. It’s not that I was ashamed, but I wasn’t fully proud either. The closest I ever came was a rejected pair of factory-second Levi’s with the trademark red tab cut off the pocket. ‘Bit of a mishap with my little brother,’ I lied to my classmates.
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