The Bogan Box Set

This was going to be a simple post about how much I hate some popular car stickers, but while writing it I discovered it’s more a post about judgment.

It’s true. I hate some of the currently popular car stickers. And while it is your free choice to put one of those stickers on your car, it is my choice is judge you. Let me explain…

 Frangipani, No Fear, JetPilot, Silver ferns, Southern Crosses and Playboy Bunny stickers started it off. Totally bogan and completely judged. They explain to the rest of society just what sort of person you are.  And I can say this having driven (my husbands) VP Commodore emblazoned with JetPilot on the rear window for a number of years.  

Then there were the My Family stickers. Now while I’m happy enough for parents to have those “Baby on Board” stickers or hanging things in their cars, I’m sure they’re put there in the hopes that if your car was skidding uncontrollably down the road and you had the choice of smashing into one of two cars, you’d steer towards the one without the “Baby on Board” sign (hopefully). But the My Family stickers upset me. When they exploded themselves all over a large number of rear windows around the place my first thought was for the families who couldn’t have children. Here were these other child abundant families parading around their insane number of children. I felt sad for the childless families. My attitudes shifted slightly when I realised that there were a large number of families driving around with the same father, mother, son or daughter as so many other families. I mean exactly the same family member as so many other families. How is that possible? It’s insane! And just as insane are the people who have a picture representing themselves and their pets. A single woman and 12 turtles. Worse still, a single person and 20 fish bowls.  I’ve seen it. Or just a pet picture. What are you? A horse?!  I think it’s just stupid. Which is why you won’t ever see a My Family sticker on my car. Ever.

I could keep going.  Window flags, reindeer antlers, red noses, eyelashes… the list of bogan car accessories just keeps getting bigger.

Seriously?!

But onto the judgment. Why should I judge someone who has one of those bogan stickers on their car? Why do I even consider them bogan stickers? Why do I judge that girl wearing leggings as pants? Furry ugg boots and short shorts? Any guy wearing jeans tighter than mine? I don’t know, but I do. I’d would have told you I’m a pretty non-judgmental person. In fact a friend of my husband came out to me before Patrick (who he’d been friends with forever) because I’m “alternative and will get it”. But to kill my lovely non-judgmental buzz, there’s Patrick who when I mention my non-judging attitudes scoffed and accused me of being a bitch. A bitch?! You really think so?  I’m not a bitch. I just comment honestly on what I see and think. Sometimes too honestly. But I’m not one for stirring up controversy.  I won’t say something just to upset someone or to stir trouble. Ok, there was that one time at the local pub though… I expressed my opinions of the pub & its clientele (to my friends) but unfortunately it was heard by the local bar fly and well, things got ugly.

And I’m happy to agree to disagree. Just don’t try to win your point over on me if I’m not into it. You’re just inviting a whole world of trouble you don’t want start and cementing my disdain of you for a lifetime to come.

So call me a judgmental bitch if you want. It’s your choice to judge me. But unless I’ve judged you harshly, I’d rather you thought I was opinionated!