Emer McLysaght Author and journalist

In Nobody Needs This, a new series for The Journal, Emer McLysaght focuses her eagle eye on the trends, products and notions we can do without. It’s not all giving out, however. She’ll also be keeping up with what’s catching her attention, keeping people interested and, quite frankly, driving her mad.

THERE’S A DENT in the side of my car. It’s self-inflicted, gouged into the back door as I attempted to navigate out of a space in one of Ireland’s most deranged car parks: the Merrion Shopping Centre in Dublin 4.

Space is at a premium in an exclusive postcode and nowhere is this more evident than in the leafy suburbs of Dublin’s southside. The parking spots at the Merrion Centre are among the tightest you’re likely to encounter anywhere on this island, which is a disastrous combination when you consider another feature of any exclusive postcode: stupidly large status symbol cars.

In 2021 I bought my first and likely only brand-new car I’ll own in my lifetime. I walked into the dealership with a second-hand vehicle in mind and, driven by impulsivity and the frankly outrageous price of the used cars on the lot, I committed to a spanking new Nissan Juke, one of the cheapest brand-new cars on the market at the time. The salesman sold it to me as ‘SUV lite’ and this sparked enough dopamine in the aspiration corner of my brain, the corner that sees swishy-haired women abseiling down out of sparkling tractor-esque Range Rovers and growls, ‘She’s a dose, but I bet that car is magical to drive’. It’s an unfortunate mix of envy, resentment, injustice and tribalism that I’m not proud of, but I can’t deny.

When I bought my Nissan Juke, with its slightly elevated driving position and snazzy screen display, I was purchasing my version of the Range Rover or Mercedes GLE. Is a Nissan Juke a status symbol? No. It’s a Micra wearing a silly hat. It’s a granny transporter. It’s an object of ridicule for car snobs. But did I feel like a boss driving out of the dealership after trading in my old crock that had become extremely shy about starting when asked and had a leak in the back passenger footwell that nobody could locate a source for? Yes, yes I did.

The day I dinged my Nissan Juke I had decided, as I was passing, to treat myself to some grocery shopping in the Merrion Centre’s Big Tesco (I find it hard to resist a Big Tesco, which is potentially hypocritical given my aversion to Big Cars). Emerging from the store, I was activated by a huge Terenure Tractor hulking away in the space beside me. I was sandwiched between it and a concrete support column and could barely squeeze into the driver’s seat or see past its jutting enormo-nose. In a rare fit of driving rage, I exited at an angle and speed that put my beloved Juke in direct, crunching contact with the column. I live with the damage to this day after a mechanic shook his head and told me with grave negativity, ‘You’ll need a new door on that’.

I maintain that nobody needs a private vehicle as big as the one I was trying to avoid that day. Yes, there is an argument that SUVs and larger cars have a variety of functions when it comes to space and comfort, especially for parents, pet and business owners. It’s the ostentatious combine harvesters that cost hundreds of thousands of euro (and, if we’re being honest, always seem that bit more flaithiúlach with the rules of the road) that we could do without. The ones that could flatten a pedestrian and not even register a bump with the driver.

And if the giant SUVs aren’t bad enough, now we’ve been infected with the pox of the American-style pick-up truck. It’s a tired cliché to suggest that driving a certain type of vehicle is overcompensating for something, but if you’re muscling around the roads with enormous bull bars and a pristine flatbed I’m going to be making some quick assumptions. Cars have and always will be status symbols but these pick-ups are in another league. I’d never felt compelled to take a key to the side of a vehicle until I was on a visit to Portmarnock beach last month, where one such monstrosity was parked illegally and perpendicular to the other cars on the road, its giant arse completely blocking the footpath. I did not commit a crime that day. I sailed away in the Juke, dent and all.

Related Reads

Now, I’m not in the business of comparing pets to children but...

I would love to see these little bags rolled out for every film, in every cinema, in perpetuity

Keep an eye out for…

A new Irish documentary short called My Friend Kev. Filmmaker Colin Peppard reconnects with an old friend who has fallen down a right-wing rabbit hole. Watch a short interview with Peppard from District Magazine or if you’re lucky enough to be heading to Electric Picnic at the end of the month Peppard will be in conversation with CNN’s Donie O’Sullivan in the Mindfield area. I’ll also be there on the Saturday afternoon hosting a conversation on friendship, teenagers and independence with my Complete Aisling and Our Deadly Summer co-author Sarah Breen.

I don’t need but I want…

The Aerocabin CMAX Air X2, an inflatable tent/boat that would wipe the floor with anything else in the campsites at Electric Picnic. Alas, it is currently only on pre-order and almost €1,200 in the early bird sale, so it’ll be the trusty Regatta once again.

Reading list

• This article from Them which asks so many questions about One Night Only, the film touted as ‘The Purge, but for sex’
• This Reddit thread which asks ‘what’s the most disturbing thing you’ve heard a dying person say?’
• This rundown from Wargamer on the ‘most complicated board game’ and the friends who’ve been playing it for two years

Emer will be back next Friday morning with more recommendations.