Norma Jeane and the ugly Exeter shop

Surely the most overused (and misused) word of the moment is 'iconic'. Back in my day, it was usually reserved for things like Marilyn Monroe and the Mini (the original, not the bloated German pastiche that we have today).

Recently, I've heard the former Debenhams' building in Exeter, disgraced ex-Sky Sports duo Richard Keys and Andy Gray, and now stricken (and little-known) retailer British Bookshops & Stationers all described using the i-word.

Sadly, those guilty - an Exeter City Councillor, the Boss of talkSPORT and the bookshop chain's Administrator - seem to have little idea as to the true meaning of the word.

Maybe, and somewhat poetically, they're being ironic when using the word iconic? Let's hope so.

The Italian job

When I was an art student, back in the early-90s (he says, suddenly feeling really rather old), and having just passed my driving test, the car I wanted was a Lancia Y10 – a somewhat quirky offering, blessed with sharp, confident Italian styling (that’s been carried over into its Ypsilon successor today), that was, even back then, a rarity on British roads. I lusted after one... until I test drove an example with my father, one Saturday afternoon in Liskeard, and soon realised that the Y10’s Fiat Uno-derived gearchange was about as slick as a bowl of stone-cold porridge.

Nevertheless, I’ve always retained a soft spot for Lancia. I’ve only ever owned cars made in the once-sprawling Longbridge factory, on the outskirts of Birmingham (several family members worked there in its heyday), and I’ve always found Lancias, Alfas and FIATs (few people seem to realise that FIAT is an acronym, standing for Fabricators of Italian Automobiles in Turin) a similar proposition – namely slightly-flawed cars but which have bucket loads of soul.

When I was a kid, I could, apparently name every car on the road by the age of three, so, before I discovered football (and then girls), cars were very much my passion – I was encyclopedic about them. I remember my Mom (us Midlanders also use that American spelling) coming home from shopping one day, very excited by a car she had seen. She took me back out to see it - that bright red Series II Fulvia Coupé that I saw (it was slightly before my time, so I had never heard of it until then) remains one of the most beautiful pieces of industrial design that I’ve ever seen. Gorgeous.

So, the news that Lancias are finally to return to these shores was met with somewhat mixed emotions. Mixed, you see, since the UK is going to be the only market in Europe where the likes of the bold, new Delta are to be rebadged as Chrysler, as a result of FIAT’s stake in the US firm. Who am I to criticise Fiat boss Sergio Marchionne, who has, after all, seemingly single-handedly taken the company from almost-certain bankruptcy to being a major global player?

But his lazy, penny-pinching decision to sell rebadged Lancias through the UK’s existing Chrysler network – given his usual midas touch – seems curious at best (it's not as if the Chrysler brand is popular over here - the company only sold 1400 cars in the UK last year). Sure, sell them at Chrysler outlets – rather than Alfa dealers – if you wish, but spend a few quid on some Lancia signage – you’re already paying to convert them to RHD and it’s not like you’re setting up an entire new network, for heaven’s sake!

It’s very much a case of Lancia Chalk and Chrysler Cheese. The former have made some of the sexiest, most innovative cars of all-time. The latter’s previous two big pushes into the UK have given us the Horizon in the 70s and the Neon in the 90s. God help us. Anyway, must dash – either my stomach’s rumbling or that’s Vincenzo Lancia turning in his grave.

Slow boat from China

I was reading an article today by Audrey Mealia of gift company Paladone Products, explaining how they've cut the carbon footprint on their range of novelty washing-up brushes (yes, apparently there is a market for such things).

With the help of Rob Holdway of low-carbon design consultants Giraffe Innovation, they have managed to reduce packaging costs by 15% and slash the carbon emission by a whopping 85%. Elsewhere, Holdway talks about cutting pack sizes to lower transportation costs (remember that bit for later).

All very worthy.

Trouble is, like virtually everything today, Paladone's brushes are manufactured in good ol' China, so Ms Mealia obviously thinks nothing of shipping them half way around the world on a ginormous container ship.

With a carbon footprint that big, no wonder she enlists the help of Mr Holdway to make the packaging a little more environmentally-friendly.