Whether you realize it or not, most everything in your life – outside of the natural world – has somehow been influenced by someone with at least a smattering of art education. The shingles on your roof were given their color by an artist-type. A fashion designer with an art background decided how many holes should be in the buttons on your shirt. The junker car you drive got its original stylish lines from an artist. The paint on your walls – the ones flavored with names like “Oatmeal” and “Cranberry” and “Burnt Pumpkin” – were picked by an artist. Okay, maybe a few cooks infiltrated the ranks, but for the most part the man-made world has been designed by artists.
Not so with kitsch. The junk populating your grandma’s fireplace mantel more likely was designed by an alien. It’s so obvious. Today we take a look at some objects – I hesitate to call them art – that should contain labels warning consumers about the dangerous amounts of kitsch they contain. I’m also warning you now that even LOOKING at these things could cause convulsions and cerebral hemorrhaging, so proceed at your own risk.
Anytime the words “fiber” and “optic” come up in a conversation, pray they have nothing to do with an angel. With moving, pink wings. This piece has “heresy” written all over it. Apparently, the designer of this abomination felt the angel was lonely, because, yes, a bride and groom were added. One can only hope that it has a wind-up key underneath to facilitate “Muskrat Love” while it slowly rotates. The next time you set up a couple of tin cans on the fence for target practice, please, PLEASE take this thing with you.
You said you like cats, so here you go. What’s not to love about a lump of porcelain vaguely shaped like a cat and painted with realistic eyes? Of an alien. And, as if to avert our gaze, this thing is bedecked with some unknown fabric-feather contraption around its neck. Perhaps the cat is being garroted, in hopes of putting us all out of our misery.
You needn’t feel left out, dog lovers. I have just the thing for your dining room table – a set of Dachshund salt and pepper shakers. You will impress guests with this cute dog who can’t quite catch up to his ass. What? Need to spice things up? Just pull Fido apart and shake something out of the hole by his tail. Bon appétit!
Someone – probably a demented clown – thought this was a great idea. Everyone should have a crocheted poodle surrounding a bottle of their favorite vintage – everyone in the loony bin, that is. Apparently, someone with a complete set of Craftsman crochet hooks got tired of ugly hats and ugly sweaters, and decided to crochet an ugly dog. Does it keep the wine warm during winter? Does it keep the wine cool during tailgaters? Is this why Grandpa always walks the dog? Can I get this in a teal color? So many questions.
Logic is not a necessary ingredient in kitsch. Take this foot ashtray. I totally understand that one would want to put cigarette butts and ashes in an amputated foot. And I totally understand why that creepy big toe already has rigor mortis. And I totally understand that combustible wood was used to hold the embers of a carcinogenic stick of tobacco. I get that. But why put that hideous piece of crap on my living room table? Why?
Not all kitschy things are mass produced. Sometimes, people with bad ideas and even worse art abilities intentionally make things, one at a time, like this disposable communion cup light ball. I’m pretty sure there’s a special place in hell reserved for folks who come up with this purgatorial junk. Of course, this particularly fine example begs a disturbing question: Why do disposable communion cups come in colors? Please don’t tell me they are liturgical colors.
Now this is just wrong. Why would anyone want to put candy in a clown’s pants? Why would anyone want to put ANYTHING, including hands, in a clown’s pants. This nightmarish hunk of ceramic is vintage horror. Obviously, the idea is that before a party, the hostess rips Mr. Clown in half, stuffs him with Snickers or Laughy Taffy or something, and then offers it to the guests. This is loaded with more poor thinking than crappy candy. The guest will find themselves in a dilemma of holding candy, and desperately wishing to wash their hands after fumbling around inside a stranger’s trousers.
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