Lamborghini recently came out with an SUV called the Urus, not to be confused with “uterus,” although the two sound very similar. The SUV now has its own line of fashion, luggage and model cars, because we’re all supposed to give into the idea that certain brands make us more important than we really are.
The Urus, which Lamborghini calls a “Super SUV,” is the company’s first real dive into this boring, practical SUV- and crossover-dominated car market that we now find ourselves in. Throw a sheet over it and it’s basically a pointier and more powerful version of the Mazda CX-5, for about $200,000 extra. Seems like a worthwhile investment.
Because all $200,000-plus vehicles need their own line of lifestyle products to separate their owners from the rest of us—yes, even if we’re all driving around in large, bad, people-hauling orbs—Urus fans can now buy even more products to elevate themselves higher than the ground clearance of the SUV can.
Look! Lamborghini-branded luggage sets “designed specifically for the Urus’ trunk.” How useful and necessary these are, considering space is so limited and hard to find in four-seater SUVs these days.
Thank goodness Urus owners don’t have to go out and find space-saving travel sets after spending the energy to find such a unique vehicle, and they even get a little toy Urus for the kids to play with in the back seat. Ah, the joys of starting the brand enslavement young.
Oh! Handmade moccasins and a limited-run suede jacket (only 30 available!) with no visible Lamborghini logos on the outside of either. What a way to show everyone that you don’t care about showing off your wealth with brands—you just want quality products that will last you a long time. That suede will rub up very well against the alcantara interior option on the Urus, too.
What, now, is this supposed to be? A cozy little hole for the model car, so that its owners can carry it with them wherever they are and remember the true luxury awaiting them once they return to their car? Or, is it like one of those pop-up holiday or birthday cards, for when people want to talk about that magnificent beast of a vehicle you left at valet parking?
“Pardon me, is that your SUV?” a person asks as you shield yourself from the cold in your new suede jacket and handmade moccasins. “What kind of car is that?”
“Why, let me show you,” you reply, happy to use the function you paid so much money for when buying your new handbag.
Ziiiiiiiiiiiiiip, goes the finely stitched side pouch. Out rolls your miniature Urus companion, to the complete shock of this onlooker who obviously can’t afford it. It gives you a deep sense of pride to know that.
Ah, wait, it’s also a shoe hole. Or a hole to sneak snacks into the movie theater with. The world is what you make it, it seems.
Lamborghini didn’t release prices on its new line, instead saying that potential customers could meet representatives in an area “fully furnished with Riva 1920 furniture” (they’re design partners, because #brands) to talk about product customization. The meetings are only available by appointment.
As someone rather familiar with the wedding industry’s tactic of “schedule an appointment for pricing,” that’s how you know it’s a trap—an expensive trap.
Then again, there is no price tag on the entirely human-conceived social status that brands can make you feel like you have. The brands will destroy us all, as we slowly sink into the dark and materialistic doom that awaits.