YOU put it on and, suddenly, crowds part to let you through; adults come to you for advice, or sheepishly hide their faces as if fearing your greater status. What is this power-garment? A Superman cape? A Royal Marines uniform? A burqa? A minister's dog-collar?
No, it is a fluorescent yellow Hi-Visibility safety waistcoat, currently retailing at £3.52.
We've all seen them: generally worn by workers in road and rail, water and sewage, emergency services and law enforcement. How I first came to be in poss
ession of a Hi-Vis is of little importance, the fact is that last weekend I discovered that wearing one in the wrong context can radically change your status in the world.
I was at Loch Lomond with the girlfriend and kids and it was raining and I was pathetically ill-prepared, without coat, shivering and in need of another layer of just about anything. In the car boot was my Hi-Vis waistcoat. I fought embarrassment and pulled it on. My kids said I looked like a bin-man.
The first incident occurred when we passed a young family who were feeding ducks. They seemed to fall silent as I passed. Ten feet on and my daughter stopped to pick up something unpleasant and I shouted 'No!' The duck-feed family jumped out of their skins, stepped back from the water, nodded that they were sorry and scurried away like scolded school-kids.
Half an hour later, back to the car and the power of the £3.52 Hi-Vis fluorescent waistcoat was proven again. The road is usually very dangerous with aggressive Sunday drivers speeding to get home. A car raced towards us, I was about to step back when I thought I'd give it a try. I raised my hand. The car screeched to a halt, the driver hiding his face in shame as I ushered the kids across. For a minute I had become a lollipop-lady or a cop or perhaps even Magneto from the X-Men.
Feeling empowered I decided to keep it on for the drive home. It was a tricky business driving with the fluorescent glare bouncing back from my windscreen but we sang 'Yellow Submarine' and came up with many yellow-related hypotheses: what if I walked into a crowded pub and headed to the bar – would people make way, fearing an arrest or an imminent electrical failure? Would women, long tired of yellow-bellied New Men, swarm round me, impressed by masculine authority? Forget assertiveness training, forget power-dressing – stand out from the crowd with matching fluorescent waistcoat, jacket and trousers, all for only £22.95.
Ironically, this power-attire also works in the opposite way – guaranteeing the wearer invisibility. There are pot-holing nuts who go 'tunnelling', illegally, in London's old sewers and subways, and because they use Hi-Visibility vests, no one asks any questions and they escape arrest. Then there is the anarchist anti-road activist in Hamburg, who, years back, every Sunday, took a pick-axe to the national road network, leaving behind gaping holes and costing the government a fortune. The fluorescent vest, again, kept the cops off the scent.
Which makes me wonder how many men-in-yellow, on roads, in office blocks, in car parks and airports are actually real? And how many, like me, are secretly using the powers of the garment for their own ends?
The full article contains 595 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
