My husband is part of a new fashion breed called the technosexuals. You’ve seen the type. They like to wear a Bluetooth in one ear, even when they’re not on the phone or expecting a call, because it makes them look cool and important. Once when I was a pre-school teacher, a technosexual mom came into drop off her child sporting a Bluetooth. She was so busy and important that she couldn’t even come into the world of finger-paint and make believe without fear of missing a call. Either that or it went well with her black suit jacket—and could double as a hair barrette in a pinch.
The Bluetooth as a fashion statement phenomenon is so widespread that I’m thinking of starting a gauging business with it. Kids who like to wear rings that stretch out their earlobes can be cutting edge! I’ll implant a Bluetooth in their earlobes, and they’ll be stretched into the outline of the Bluetooth device. With ideas like this, it’s
a wonder I still work a day job.
Some technosexuals drive a Prius—or, even better, an SUV hybrid. Sometimes people put bumper stickers on non-Prius hybrids advertising that their car is also a hybrid to try to gain backdoor admission into the club, but it’s a futile attempt. Other people have stickers on regular cars saying their car has been modified to run on kitchen oil or that there are small hamsters inside spinning on wheels to power the car, but these people are clearly wannabe technosexuals. Nissan Leaf drivers are embarrassed by their pathetic attempts to join the club.
Some technosexuals can’t leave the house without their white iPod headphones—which are essential to any wardrobe because white goes with everything. All technosexuals have a message at the bottom of their emails which states, “Sent from my iPhone.” Sometimes I type “Sent from my laptop” at the bottom of my emails, but it’s not the same. I just can’t compete with the technosexuals.
The technosexuals are such an exclusive club that even technophiles, like my husband, aren’t always allowed entry. Once during a wedding rehearsal, the bored husbands were sitting together playing on their iPhones. My husband joined them, and one of the men remarked on how funny it was that they all had an iPhone. But then it was discovered that my husband didn’t actually have an iPhone. It was a cheap knock off with—get this—no data plan. Not even the Bluetooth he was sporting, carefully planned to match his shirt, could save my husband then. It was so embarrassing. He had to pretend to be sick so that he didn’t have to show his face at the wedding, obviously.
Word of my husband’s near infiltration clearly spread, and the technosexuals banded together to discuss the problem. Apple responded by creating the exclusive, white iPhone, so imposters like my husband won’t be able to sneak into the club ever again. As a plus, they match the white iPod ear buds.
James Bond might be the father of the technosexuals, except that he’s usually played by a younger, nubile actor—with the exception being Sean Connery, who we’re supposed to believe is old and nubile. Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible was a good example of a technosexual, especially during that famous scene when he’s about to slam into the ground but then is suddenly stopped by the wire that’s holding him. That made gadgets and technology look sexy. In fact, if he hadn’t dumped Nicole and jumped around on Oprah’s couch, he’d still be pretty cool. As it is, he’s a bit odd. That must have been a blow to the technosexuals. They had to scramble to find a new presidential candidate that year.
I actually thought I coined the term technosexual when my husband was yet again wearing his Bluetooth as a fashion accessory. Then I Googled it and discovered several people had already thought of the term, which disappointed me. I only wanted to be the most clever person in the world. Is that too much to ask?
If this article intrigued you and you want to join the technosexual club, you’ll probably find most of the Occupy Apple members camped outside of the store waiting—along with Apple’s less trendy co-founder—for the release of the newest gadget. But you already knew that. You’ve received several emails from technosexual friends about it--sent from their white iPhones--and seen all of the Twitter updates.
The Bluetooth as a fashion statement phenomenon is so widespread that I’m thinking of starting a gauging business with it. Kids who like to wear rings that stretch out their earlobes can be cutting edge! I’ll implant a Bluetooth in their earlobes, and they’ll be stretched into the outline of the Bluetooth device. With ideas like this, it’s
a wonder I still work a day job.
Some technosexuals drive a Prius—or, even better, an SUV hybrid. Sometimes people put bumper stickers on non-Prius hybrids advertising that their car is also a hybrid to try to gain backdoor admission into the club, but it’s a futile attempt. Other people have stickers on regular cars saying their car has been modified to run on kitchen oil or that there are small hamsters inside spinning on wheels to power the car, but these people are clearly wannabe technosexuals. Nissan Leaf drivers are embarrassed by their pathetic attempts to join the club.
Some technosexuals can’t leave the house without their white iPod headphones—which are essential to any wardrobe because white goes with everything. All technosexuals have a message at the bottom of their emails which states, “Sent from my iPhone.” Sometimes I type “Sent from my laptop” at the bottom of my emails, but it’s not the same. I just can’t compete with the technosexuals.
The technosexuals are such an exclusive club that even technophiles, like my husband, aren’t always allowed entry. Once during a wedding rehearsal, the bored husbands were sitting together playing on their iPhones. My husband joined them, and one of the men remarked on how funny it was that they all had an iPhone. But then it was discovered that my husband didn’t actually have an iPhone. It was a cheap knock off with—get this—no data plan. Not even the Bluetooth he was sporting, carefully planned to match his shirt, could save my husband then. It was so embarrassing. He had to pretend to be sick so that he didn’t have to show his face at the wedding, obviously.
Word of my husband’s near infiltration clearly spread, and the technosexuals banded together to discuss the problem. Apple responded by creating the exclusive, white iPhone, so imposters like my husband won’t be able to sneak into the club ever again. As a plus, they match the white iPod ear buds.
James Bond might be the father of the technosexuals, except that he’s usually played by a younger, nubile actor—with the exception being Sean Connery, who we’re supposed to believe is old and nubile. Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible was a good example of a technosexual, especially during that famous scene when he’s about to slam into the ground but then is suddenly stopped by the wire that’s holding him. That made gadgets and technology look sexy. In fact, if he hadn’t dumped Nicole and jumped around on Oprah’s couch, he’d still be pretty cool. As it is, he’s a bit odd. That must have been a blow to the technosexuals. They had to scramble to find a new presidential candidate that year.
I actually thought I coined the term technosexual when my husband was yet again wearing his Bluetooth as a fashion accessory. Then I Googled it and discovered several people had already thought of the term, which disappointed me. I only wanted to be the most clever person in the world. Is that too much to ask?
If this article intrigued you and you want to join the technosexual club, you’ll probably find most of the Occupy Apple members camped outside of the store waiting—along with Apple’s less trendy co-founder—for the release of the newest gadget. But you already knew that. You’ve received several emails from technosexual friends about it--sent from their white iPhones--and seen all of the Twitter updates.
