We have a mystery, Enthusiasts. Sherlock Holmes had murders; David Fahrenthold is doing God’s work tracking down Trump’s financials; the Bigfoot Hunters have ‘squatch to track; I have this puzzlement: John Mayer’s jewelry line.
Now, the mystery isn’t “Why would John Mayer have a jewelry line?” but “Does this jewelry line still exist?” Allow me to explain.
John Mayer has a jewelry line. (It makes me giggle when I write it, so that’s why I’ve repeated myself.) You can go to his site and see it, but I’ll provide some highlights. It’s a fairly standard rock star store, and the page is well-designed; you can buy all the normal bullshit, like a Christmas-y wine tote:
Or, like any other entrepeneur, John will sell you a t-shirt. It is every American’s God-given right to sell t-shirts to one another, and I applaud these offerings as patriotic. You can get a slouchy one:
Or a flowy one:
(If you do the math, sleeves cost five dollars apiece at John Mayer’s Online Merch Table®.)
Shirts–of any cut and shape–are a lovely thing, but what about pants? One cannot wear a shirt without pants; the combination instantly strips (no pun intended) you of all dignity. Shirt with no pants is more embarrassing than completely naked.
Luckily, there are pants. They’re comfortable:
I told you so.
And all that is fine and good and run-of-the-mill and what you’d expect from any
normal human rock star. There are coffee mugs and ball caps: all the stuff you’d think would be there.
But there’s also this:
These things are different from the things that came before them. It’s ontological. Plus, the one on the left is not made of candy, and that’s fucked up: you know someone’s going to mistake that for a candy bracelet and try to eat it, and then they will chip a tooth and you’re out fifty bucks.
Also, everything about them is terrible. Children at a fat camp in Delaware made these on a rainy afternoon, and then an insane person priced them. They’re individually awful: number one is–as I mentioned–not candy; two and three look like things Jack Johnson stopped wearing two albums ago; and the fourth is absurd in concept: you’d have to take it off to spin it, so you’d be in constant peril of forgetting just what love is. (A verb.)
But then there was this, Enthusiasts, and it dates from September 22nd:
Yet here we are in October–excuse me, Rocktober–and the jewelry line remains. Maybe we’ll never have answers, and if we don’t, then that’s okay because no one really cares that much or at all, really.