Both supercars and superfoods apparently have a number of benefits that you’ll only experience once you’ve sold a part of your body (preferably not the part that’ll benefit you once you’ve bought them: like your backside when it’s resting on a quilted-leather seat or your gut that races to generate good bacteria from lacto-fermented pickles or tempeh).

    They have a number of features listed and you don’t know what most of them really do. What are selenium or compression ratio (tell me without looking it up).

    They make you feel like the cars you’ve been driving and the food you’ve been eating so far is going to kill you any minute now. Think organic oradaptive cruise control.

    You feel like you’re a part of a new-age club that doesn’t believe in gymkhana membership, but will keep people out because, hey, don’t you eat teff or own V12 power? What, no?!

    They take a while before they come to India, forcing you to pay heavy duties if you want to import.

    They must be hand-something-ed: handcrafted, handpounded, handmade. Technology talk is passé, unless we’re talking about a soft-close hood (because we must keep the dB levels down for luxury) or soil-moisture-data software for healthy crop growth.

    You can’t just walk into a store that sells them without looking and speaking a certain way. Until you show them the money, that is. Then you can do anything.