Tag Archives: Kitsch

You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.

Spotted this evening as I was coming down First Street on my way home from the dojo. Dollhouse B&B has a bay window, and this Major Award was displayed prominently in it.

I am delighted to see that someone in town shares my fondness for A Christmas Story. I show the film to my sophomores every year as an intro to my narrative essay unit, as the flagpole scene is a near-perfect example of narrative structure.

Emily

I don’t even know.

When my sister bought me a set of KISS Lego figures for Christmas last year, I assumed that was as weird as it got. Clearly, I was mistaken, as evidenced by the Lego Jules Winnfield and Vincent Vega figures you see pictured above. My friend Jeffrey found them at Hastings on Monday and promptly bought them for me to glue on my dashboard. I have no idea who thought the world needed Pulp Fiction Lego figurines — or why — but that person is obviously a genius and deserves a Royale with cheese and whatever is in the suitcase for coming up with something this brilliant.

I had yesterday off in exchange for working New Year’s Day, so I seized the opportunity to install Jules, Vincent and some other characters I’ve acquired in the past few months:

The Silent, Cyberman and second Roman-soldier Auton have been sitting on my piano for months, waiting to join their brethren on the dashboard.
The Silent, Cyberman and second Roman-soldier Auton have been sitting on my piano for months, waiting to join their brethren on the dashboard.
Doctor Who Titan figures are sold in blind boxes. Someone had opened this one and then -- inexplicably -- left it on the shelf at Hastings, where I happily snapped it up.
Doctor Who Titan figures are sold in blind boxes. Someone opened this one and then inexplicably left it on the shelf at Hastings, where I happily snapped it up. I thought David Tennant would look good next to Ryne Sandberg, whose hand is visible to the right of the TARDIS.
We found St. Francis of Assissi in a little Catholic bookstore in Las Vegas, N.M., on our vacation this summer. I had to have him, of course.
We found St. Francis of Assissi in a little Catholic bookstore in Las Vegas, N.M., on our vacation this summer. I had to have him, of course.
I found Jesus in Las Vegas, N.M. And glued him on my dashboard, of course.
I found Jesus at the same bookstore. And glued him on my dashboard, of course.
I think I got this dragon at a bead shop in Flagstaff.
I think I got this dragon at a bead shop in Flagstaff.
No idea who this kachina is, but that side-eye was too epic to pass up. I think I found him at the Continental Divide Trading Post.
No idea who this kachina is, but that side-eye was too epic to pass up. IIRC, I found him at the Continental Divide Trading Post. Apparently he’s not a KISS fan.

Hope your day was filled with fun stuff worthy of gluing onto your dashboard.

Emily

Living the dream

Y’all. Y’ALL. I just fulfilled a dream 17 years in the making.

Once upon a time in 1997, I drove past a parking lot in northern Illinois. On the parking lot was a man selling velvet paintings from the back of a truck. At the time, I owned a fiberoptic lamp and a bean-bag chair, both of which were displayed prominently in my living room, so when I spotted a velvet painting of dogs playing poker, I was certain I’d found the Holy Grail of Bad Taste.* If I’d had $60 on me at the time, I’d have bought it. I’m still not sure why I didn’t proceed directly to the nearest ATM to secure the funds for this masterpiece, because it stands as one of the worst things I’ve ever seen.

I was thinking about the Grail tonight. And then as I got on eBay to search for the Grail again, I thought of that painting.

I didn’t find the Grail. But I found some guy named Jorge who lives in northern Mexico and creates hand-painted replicas of that painting I passed up.

I knew I should have bought it when it was only $60. A thing like that can only appreciate in value, which is obviously why a velvet art dealer is charging $100 for Jorge’s work.

Painting ships Monday. I’m still trying to decide whether it’s worth another $25 for an ugly pine frame similar to the one on my velvet Elvis.

Emily

*This was obviously before I met Ron, who enlightened me as to the nature of the REAL Holy Grail of Bad Taste.