I couldn't own a Dyson fan
As a man who lives in the United Kingdom, I get to experience the yearly fortnight of unbearable heat. Where temperatures continue to be hotter than records began, where BBQs are in season, and everyone just fucking loves the heat until it goes on just a bit too long and we yearn for the inevitable thunderstorm that's gonna reboot the weather.
It's not an original concept to a Brit to talk about the weather. It's that filler in conversation whether you know a person or not, there's just some unwritten rule to mention the weather. It's not even that drastic or crazy here. The majority of the time it's just overcast or moderately sunny, then it's heavy rain, strong heat, or snow that is only in a state of being too much or too little. Those ones are just peppered across the rest of the average year.
Yet, we are built to live the majority of the time in comfort. We've yet to really nail how to to survive the few times extreme weather hits us. Hell, we thought a hurricane in the 80s was just a chill bit of wind.
As we seem to have to explain to any other country who says the weather isn't even that bad when its extreme, we have to maintain that actually...we're just built different. A bit more shit. But really, it's the way our buildings are built different. Good ol' double glazing.
Double glazed windows, insulation that may or may not be an unintentional viking funeral in disguise, central heating. The way the weather is on average, that of temperatures that are "a bit chilly, innit", means we build for the cold. We prepare for the cold. We Brits fucking love going to Spain and Greece and lord knows where else that's a little hot, but ultimately...That's for our holidays. That's where we seek out the nice weather in places that are used to it. For all the tourists travelling to the UK, I know it's definitely not for the weather. However non-existent it may be.
As such, when it does get hot, and it does get unbearable...It's when we start pulling out all the stops. Windows cracked. Ice in drinks. Dogs hopefully kept away from all this bullshit. Busting the fan out of the cupboard.
Air conditioning is a waste of money outside of public places and shops. Sainsbury's, the true bastion of supermarkets here, have godly air conditioning. If the sun explodes, you bet your ass I'm going to live my last moments in a Sainsbury's. If Walt Disney was truly frozen, it happened in Sainsbury's.
But fans...My god. If there was a website in the summer in Britain called Only Fans, you bet your sweet ass people are gonna throw down money on some ice cold content to keep them cold and unbothered.
In recent years, however, it's come to the public's attention that there exists a certain type of fan. Made by the same people that make those bagless vaccuum cleaners. That's not that far removed. It's not like Yamaha, a company that seems to cater exclusively to the keyboardists who live life on the edge behind motorbike handles. Or Michelin, who bring the world great tires and an advertising strategy to fuck up those tires driving from one restaurant to another.
Dyson, however, now make fans. It sorta makes sense, they have the technology. Vaccuums spin, right? They...suck? Fans are just that but in reverse.
What doesn't make sense, however is the price. I mean for almost that alone...
...I couldn't own a Dyson fan.
Boom, we got there in the end.
Dyson fans cost literal hundreds of pounds. They start at like £250 and go up to around £600 at a quick google. What. The fuck. That's Great British Pounds, by the way. I haven't made up some random currency, that is the same currency where you can get a fan for like £15? £30? Maybe even £100.
But £250-£600? That's a completely different league.
I'm a slave to the Apple ecosystem. I've touched on that before. I am currently writing this on a MacBook Pro in a Starbucks, intermittedly checking my iPhone or my Apple Watch. I have spent more money than sense on technology.
So it's a big thing to say...Why the fuck would I want a Dyson fan.
They spout all sorts of promises behind this technology. The amount of coolness, the noise, the fact they can "purify" the air.
"Purify the air"? I highly doubt that using such a device for that one week of British weather where you need it is going to drastically change the quality of the air. You're breathing that air regardless the rest of the time. Sure, I guess if it coincided with my hay fever and somehow a fan could just destroy all potential for my eyes getting itchy and the sneezing from ever starting...by all means. Another solution, however? Antihistamines. For like a fiver from the chemist. Boom. One pill, relief. Unless, you're like me, and you decide to chug a nice cider not long after. Boom, a nice drowsy state feeling like you could be stupid enough to throw down a small fortune on a fan.
It's crazy the pull those fans have on people. It's like those people who think a MacBook is going to instantly improve their writing ability. Come on.
The harsh reality of fans is that, really, for the smallest fraction of that price you'll get the same effect. One harsh summer I invest in one fan that cost me like £20. Amazon Basics. And it is a beast. Three speeds. It can oscillate. Put it in the living room. Put it at the foot of the bed. Put it by an open window. Put a small bowl of water in front of it if that's your style. Guess what?
Relief. Sweet, sweet relief. Like a hay fever tablet for the feeling of heat. Or something.
Honestly, in a country where we don't live for aircon, where old people thrive on AA battery powered handfans, where any piece of paper is suddenly the equivalent to cooling Cleopatra...There's all manner of solutions to get through it. The shade. A good cup of tea. BBQs. Ice cream trucks. Lilt, the true drink of the summer. All those things and more can all come together to make it through the fortnight of complicated feelings about the sun. And combined, still cheaper than a fucking Dyson fan.
Now put a speaker in that thing? Bluetooth? Alexa? Some bullshit like that? Maybe you're onto something. You're talking to the guy who bought a coffee table because I could play Redbone from Childish Gambino on it.
Do that, Dyson, and maybe we'll talk.
Until then, I'm saving my money. Gotta burn that shit when it gets cold again.