Caviar's $11,560 iphone 17 pro: a steve jobs relic?
Luxury phone customization has reached a new, almost ludicrous, peak. Caviar, the purveyor of opulent and often bizarre smartphone modifications, is now offering a limited run of iPhone 17 Pro and iPhone 17 Pro Max models incorporating a fragment of Steve Jobs' turtleneck—yes, that turtleneck. The price? Starting at a staggering $9,630 for the 256GB Pro and escalating to $11,560 for the 2TB Pro Max. Is this a tribute to a visionary, or a blatant exercise in capitalizing on nostalgia?
The jobs uniform: a history of uniformity
The story, familiar to many Apple devotees, centers around Jobs’ iconic uniform: a black turtleneck, Levi's 501 jeans, and New Balance sneakers. A deliberate rejection of corporate formality, the look originated from a 1980s visit to Sony Japan, where Jobs observed factory workers outfitted in identical uniforms—a practice born from post-war necessity. Initially, Jobs attempted to impose a similar dress code on Apple employees, a move met with resounding disapproval and, reportedly, boos. He ultimately adopted the uniform for himself, creating a visual shorthand for his return to Apple and a symbol of a minimalist, design-focused ethos.
Caviar previously offered similar customizations with fragments from an earlier turtleneck, embedded in the Apple logo of iPhone 12 Pro models. Now, they’ve upped the ante, claiming the iPhone 17 Pro models feature a piece of the turtleneck Jobs wore when unveiling the NeXT computer. A certificate of authenticity accompanies each device, purportedly verifying the turtleneck's provenance. However, a recent discovery by 9to5Mac casts a shadow on this claim: video evidence indicates Jobs was wearing a tuxedo at that particular event.

Nostalgia, price tags, and questionable authenticity
The rear casing of the new iPhone models is designed to evoke a sense of nostalgia, mimicking the color palette of the original iPhone. The devices are being marketed as a “50th Anniversary Edition,” commemorating Apple’s creation on April 1st, 1976, and featuring Jobs’ signature alongside the familiar “Think different” slogan. The sheer cost—particularly the $11,560 for the 2TB model—raises serious questions about the value proposition. While a few exceptionally wealthy Apple loyalists (perhaps those who snagged shares during the 1980 IPO) might find this a worthwhile extravagance, for the vast majority, it’s a monument to conspicuous consumption, bordering on absurdity.
The core issue isn’t the customization itself, but the price and the shaky foundation of the authenticity claim. Caviar has built a brand on extravagant accessories, but this venture risks crossing a line from luxury to exploitation. The willingness of consumers to pay such exorbitant sums for a piece of a turtleneck—particularly one whose provenance is now suspect—is a testament to the enduring power of the Jobs mythos, but also a cautionary tale about the limits of brand loyalty and the allure of fleeting status symbols.
