Sometime recently, when I had my head turned, Kitsch came back in a big way. Something about the goofy, weird, vaguely obscene, plasticky junk that was turned out by the truckload in the beginnings of the modern era just appeals to…well, people today.
The reason I say people is there seems to be no easily defined line separating who likes kitsch from those who don’t. After all, it’s popular with thirty-something hipsters, aging baby-boomers, falsely nostalgic teenagers, pop culture junkies, graffiti writers and modern artists, etc. etc.
And the point? There is none.
Just that last January I got a dashboard Hula girl from Archee McPhee’s for my dad, for his birthday, as a gag gift. He loves it. Stuck it right in his truck. Then, last month, when visiting friends, they gave me a cojoined pair of wrestling Sumo guys* to go on my dashboard. And then, another friend sent me a dashboard Buddy Christ from Kevin Smith’s Dogma. Which is actually on my desk, but still.
I would write that the current kitsch fetish was confined to dashboard iconography, fuzzy dice, and other car decorations, except that I’m starting to see a lot more garden gnomes and pink flamingos than I used to.
In fact, I think that’s what I’ll try for Dad’s next birthday. A pink flamingo. Just because.
* Not my flickr photo, unfortunately, but a good one!