So I bought an iPad. Her name is Beezus.
This is why I’m poor. When my taxes weren’t as outrageous as I had estimated they’d be, I promptly went out and spent the money I “saved” on an iPad. Life is short and retirement will be the stuff of Fantasy and SciFi by the time I’m 65, right?
I would have more buyer’s remorse if I didn’t love Beezus with my entire giant nerd heart, and if I hadn’t gone “cheap” by getting the iPad 2. Because, as you can see, I’m all about being financially responsible.
[Aside: What is about talking about money on the Internet that makes it feel like you’re baring your dirtiest of dirty secrets? I feel so brazen.]
Now that I have an iPad, I’m in the market for an iPad case. Or rather, a sleeve. I don’t want one of those horribly-cheap looking smart covers. I also don’t want a big bulky case. All I want is a sleek little pouch that I can slip Beezus in to protect her from the myriad screen scratching objects that lurk in the inner recesses of my bag.
You would think this would be an easy want to fulfill and it would be if I could tolerate velcro. Now, I believe velcro does have its uses, most of which involve the shoes of young people. But on products that grownups will use? That is not where velcro belongs. I have a messenger bag from a few years back that I had to give up because the makers used velcro to close the laptop portion of the bag. It’s a damn shame because that bag was pretty nice. But I cannot abide velcro. I thought I could, which is why I got the bag, but I was wrong.
Being a velcro snob severely limits your choices on iPad sleeves. I’ve mostly been trolling around Etsy poking around (because when I have a choice I do like to give my money to actual people) for sleeves and have been appalled by the number that include velcro. Why would you craft something so delightful and then shit on it by slapping some tacky velcro to the front? It’s a mystery to me.