I was sitting in a cafΘ the other day enjoying the relaxing view of a traffic warden writing a ticket for a BMW across the road, when it struck me that they really should do something about those uniforms. Call me a fashion Nazi. But the whole warden ensemble, from the modest brown skirt up to the demure brown hat, suggested not so much the parking police of a modern European city, as a conservative off-shoot from the Salvation Army.
This is not to be critical of either traffic wardens or the Salvation Army: both fine groups of people doing the Lord's work in difficult circumstances (albeit with differing emphasis on the role of forgiveness). Indeed, there are many obvious parallels in the jobs they do. Each works with sinners on a daily basis. Each stresses the importance of remaining on the straight and narrow, as opposed to within five metres of a corner, or too far from the kerb. And, above all, each is part of a broader struggle to convert people: to God and public transport, respectively; belief in both of which has waned in modern Ireland.
Also, it must be said, each group seems doomed to appear increasingly quaint in a world where zealots and extremists - from the Taliban Militia to Dublin's car clampers (two other groups with much in common) - grab the headlines. Nevertheless, even allowing for an appropriate level of modesty, the wardens' uniforms are a bit drab. Something needs to be done, and I suggest it starts with a colour change.
As the Economist recently pointed out, colour is a vital element in corporate branding. Blue means coolness and efficiency; red suggests fire, passion, and the endless naivete of Manchester United fans in the face of commercial exploitation; while McDonalds restaurants grab our attention with the dramatic use of yellow (as do clampers).
But there's not a lot you can do with brown. Apart from monks, its use as a theme colour has been confined to shadowy organisations such as Hitler's Sturmabteilung and the junior wing of the Girl Guides. In fashion circles, it threatened famously to become "the new black" a few years ago, before black made a shock return at the Paris shows, causing panic backstage. Beige seems to be "in" now. Certainly, on my last visit to the races, it was the big colour in the winners' enclosure. Only the horses wore brown, and not all of them either.
There was a time when camouflage was necessary for traffic wardens, and historically the uniforms blended in well with the sepia-tinted background of Irish life. But the threat of violence from the public has receded. These days, when you return to your car to find a £15 parking ticket rather than a £65 clamp, your natural reaction is: "What a lucky break!". You consider yourself £50 up on the deal, and the temptation is to go and spend it on something frivolous. Wardens need an image that exploits this new-found popularity.
The importance of colour-coding was emphasised this week when Mary O'Rourke visited the first of Dublin's LUAS trams, which was recently manufactured in France, has now reached London, and will arrive on a platform near you later this century, barring industrial action by breakaway tram drivers.
Unveiled to the tune of Molly Malone, the tram's colours are lilac and yellow, reflecting "the spirit of Dublin," apparently. This is puzzling. The yellow could reflect the city's jaundiced view of public transport, certainly. But lilac? Mary O'Rourke wore pink for the occasion, reflecting her spirit of rosy optimism about LUAS. But her choice of words was even more striking. Describing the tram as a "baby", she developed the theme by asking the director if it had been an "easy birth, on time or over term?".
Now, speaking from the traumatised delivery ward that is contemporary Dublin, I thought this metaphor was born prematurely, to say the least. For example: one of the main roads near my home is closed all this year for LUAS work, and an alternative route was recently raided overnight by clampers, with the result that residents there temporarily abandoned the footpath for car-parking. Which is good news for pedestrians, wheelchair-users and buggy pushers, and of course for the many cyclists who have a conscientious objection to road use.
But the temporary on-road parking has also reduced parts of a busy two-way street to one lane, forcing cars to weave on and off the footpath, in between pedestrians, wheelchair users, buggies, cyclists, lamp-posts, and Molly Malone's wheelbarrow. The situation is exacerbated by open-top tour buses, which come round every five minutes to let visitors take pictures of the traffic. The contractions are coming more frequently now in Dublin, and there's still no sign of the anaesthetist. We all have to remember to breathe deeply.
fmcnally@irish-times.ie
