“Squawk! Polly wants a human sacrifice!”
I think the flamingo would have been perfect for Amy’s birthday. And the rooster would have been the perfect gift to celebrate the birth of her son last month. But, alas, I could not afford to spend $210 ($80 for the flamingo, $130 for the rooster in case you were wondering) plus whatever it would cost to ship these exceptional pieces of artwork to her home.
Please note that the artist clearly went with not just a whimsical color palette for the rooster, but also had a ‘more is more’ approach to size. The terrifyingly large birds are to scale, but the rooster stands about five feet tall. The flamingo would top that if not posed with the neck down.
In what is perhaps a fitting tribute to the Garden State, the guy does look a little like Silent Bob. If you squint. And drank a margarita out of one of those slushie machines on the boardwalk.
In case you were starting to miss summer and feel nostalgic for lazy days in the sand and cute swimsuits, let me remind that fall is awesome. Because when you go to the beach in the summer, you probably see more of the above than you care to admit. If these were fall themed figurines, this delightful couple would probably get to wear sweaters and go apple picking. They might be downright adorable.
Don’t get me wrong, I still wouldn’t buy these figurines. Let’s not get crazy.
But this does raise the question, “Why does New Jersey insist on mocking itself?” It’s really not that bad. I spent my childhood vacations on the Jersey Shore and have nothing but great memories of playing on the beach and eating ice cream while grandpa made one hell of run at a blackjack table. Okay, maybe that is a little bit stereotypical Jersey.
And I’m not just assigning this couple the role Jersey Beach Bums. Some boardwalk shop went ahead and branded them – cheaply. After stocking their store with non-location specific ceramic beachgoers who make questionable fashion choices, they figured, “What the hell? Let’s claim them as ours.”
Tape your own city here!
So with that as a reminder of the inherent awesomeness of autumn, let’s let summer walk out of our lives until next year.
Fare thee well, whats-your-name and JWoww.
“Please buy my sunflowers so that I can afford to eat something other than the potentially poisonous mushroom behind me.”
The Crystal Gayle inspired braid practically begs for a shampoo.
They just keep coming! Three! There are three of these big headed girls in my closet now. I’m afraid that having all three of them together will open up some sort of hell dimension ruled Bratz dolls.
Polly gives us a chance to analyze hillbilly stereotypes. The most disturbing thing about Polly, other than her very existence, is her braid. Her extra-long locks play into hillbilly stereotypes nicely, implying that she may belong a fundamentalist religion that does not allow women to cut their hair. She is also peddling flowers on the road, unlike her cousins Molly (who lives in a comfortable house in town) and Dolly (who, while slutty, is clearly of the more genteel variety of country folk). She is however the only big headed girl shown outside the home, so perhaps she is a feminist attempting to support herself through entrepreneurial flower sales.
Oh big headed girls, your possibilities are endless. You expand the mind.
Mostly, however, you prove the extent to which your own minds have already expanded. Which is the second reason that braid is so important. Molly and Dolly have all their hair under their bonnets, so it is possible that they have normal sized heads and that their uncut hair is piled up under the bonnet making it appear enormous to the point neurological concern. Polly’s braid is not contained… yet her bonnet is still huge… you can do the math.
Yep, they are inbred ginormous brained country gals. Run for your lives!!
The Unholy Trinity of Molly, Polly, and Dolly. I have contained them in my closet to prevent the havoc they will thrust upon the world. You’re welcome.
This odd little clown is a thank you gift for Molly Mobbie. The clown appears to be sitting on top of some sort of table that is perched atop of some small animal. No matter what I do I cannot get a clear pic of this clown, this leads me to believe the clown is possessed. Also, the clown’s eyes freak me out. This thing is just weird looking. Who in their right mind thought this was going to be a big seller? It looks like the clown is crushing a small animal. FREAKY!
Note from the gifter: Amy I am so sorry. It was clearly a bad idea to get anything commemorating an evil clown sacrificing a small animal via table crushing. You should donate (okay, burn) this immediately. My luck has turned for the better since this evil clown left my home. I do not think that is a coincidence. I’m pretty sure this was originally sold by Jack Marshak.
On a recent visit to Brig we received this lovely item, a wedding gift for the newlyweds. Nothing says save your money like a pink iridescent monkey bank. I think I might have to put money in it just so I can smash it to get the money back out. I especially love the tiny monkey, you can’t tell from the pics, but it has clearly broken off and been glued back on. Someone cared enough about this ugly ass monkey to glue it back together, wtf.
The crafter added the red polka dots along the edge of the apron, carefully continuing them through the spinning wheel, creating a delightful peek-a-boo design.
The red ruffles were added with a felt-tip pen. This crafter was on top of her game!
The red trim is continued on the creases of her perky butt bow.
Dolly couldn’t be any more splendid, she is even wearing the absolute perfect shade of ballet slipper pink. And her deformed cranium sort of resembles a toe shoe, surely bringing years of joy to a promising young ballerina.
Oh Molly Mobbie, just when I thought you were the most wonderfully kitsch thing I’d ever receive, Amy had to go and give me your cousin. Your country cousin with precisely applied jet black eyeliner and bright red lipstick, giving her a certain smutty adorableness. Unlike Molly, who is hiding her enormous head under a bonnet with a very trendy bow, Dolly has a simple polka-dotted ribbon adornment that matches her apron. While both Molly and Dolly have gigantic noggins and feline companionship, Molly – being the citified cousin – gazes appreciatively/psychotically at the grandfather clock in (presumably) the parlor of her townhome in the state capitol. Dolly is stuck spinning yarn on some barely settled prairie.
Luckily for Dolly, she was painted by a different Holly-hobbyist. How do I know, aside from the obvious difference in quality? Once again, this creation was signed by the crafter. A crafter who had the ingenuity to add details using felt-tip pens. Dolly is actually very well executed artistically – she’s just still really, really tacky.
Were ‘paint your own’ Holly Hobbie knock-off kits a bit of a trend in the 1970s? Can a reader answer this? And by ‘reader’ I mean ‘one of our moms.’ How else can I explain that there are two big-headed girls currently residing in my closet? And now that this is a potential trend in the ugly gifting world I have to keep them both for a few months just in case I have the opportunity to do a formal family photo later.
What are you looking at? No seriously, which eye is the good one?
I think the most interesting thing about this mass produced ceramic goat is that it was mass produced. This implies a market for this item. Which means that somewhere along the line in America, a whole lot of people looked around their homes and said to themselves, “You know what would really perk this place up? A goat statue!”
Not content to simply get any old ceramic livestock, the purchasers of this cross-eyed, cloven-hoofed beauty could have also used this as a self-defense item. This is one pointy statue, and the horns are perfectly spaced to take out both eyes simultaneously. Most animal figurines tend to be cute and smiling. With its combination of pointy horns and evil smirk, this one seems to play up the popular culture associations between goats and devil-worship.
Such unnaturally blond hair, and WIDE eyes.
Such attention to detail, every flower in the basket behind her is painted.
The clock works. It keeps perfect time. But, this lovely little gift that I received for my birthday is about a year older than me. Conveniently the artist included the date in her signature. Yes, this piece of crap is signed. I’m sure in the mid-seventies this Holly Hobbie knock-off was the most awesome thing in some little girl’s room. The purple dress and bonnet even have a subtle sheen.
But what really creeps me out is the wide-eyed stare of Molly Mobbie. I keep expecting this ceramic resident of the village of the damned to solve a puzzle box and grow up overnight.
Needless to say she resides in my closet… until she can be set free at my local Goodwill. Then she can go live in another damned village.