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Only 5″ long and less than 1″ high, this solid brass puppy weighs a ton. For years he sat on my desk atop my most important notes, making me less resentful of going through the stacks of papers he kept in place while I procrastinated going through them every day. One day he fell on the floor and I noticed how strangely shaped his little feet were. Only then, after almost 20 years of being a paper protector, did I realize the dachshund was, in fact, a bottle cap opener on his front legs and a can opener in the rear.

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Discoveries like this make me very happy. It seems like I have a brand-new object in the house! He’s definitely hand sculpted – be careful around his sharp butt! – but his polished smooth body makes him very fun to handle and easy to operate. I do miss him guarding my papers but he seems much happier in his new and more exciting role.

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bull-thrower-cup

The first thing I do on Sunday mornings is to brew a reallllly strong cup of coffee, well, decaf, and set about trying to knock out all the tasks I know will make the coming week much easier if they’re not piled up and waiting for me Monday morning. This big bull cup holds twice as much as a normal coffee cup and I’ve used it so much I almost look at it as my pet.

The cup looks somewhere between mass-produced and handmade, only one coat of glaze on the lettering – as a ceramicist myself I can tell you this comes from pure laziness – as well as parts of the bull being a little lumpier than he should be. No manufacturing marks anywhere so who knows?  I just know I’m a pretty good bull thrower myself and lifting this cup puts a smile on my lips whether bull’s coming out of them or not.

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The package reads “Let’s try homeparty fashionably and have a joyful chat with nice fellow.” And all it takes is a straw! For years after I co-wrote the Friends theme song I received gifts that had the word ‘friend’ as part of their title. Without question, these Fujinami flexstraws are one of my favorites. Who could resist sucking on such sage advice? 

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Poodle anything  almost instantly qualifies as Kitsch. This one is a double K because for years I thought it was a pitcher until I finally went to use it and the canine started hemorrhaging lemonade from its back. I was upset because I’ve never noticed any hairline fractures but upon closer examination I discovered it wasn’t a pitcher at all but, rather, a bank!

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I find the heavily detailed ceramic and wobbly head a rather odd choice for a children’s toy and lay odds on it breaking within the first five uses or whenever a silver dollar’s dropped inside, whichever comes first.  But with a little putty jammed in the coin slot I still think it would make a lovely pitcher.  Since that discovery about 10 years ago it’s just been a lovely nothing, something for my cat Niblet to rub herself against every now and then so I can take these cute pictures of her.
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I’ve collected four of these porcelain pitchers from the late 1960s over the years. I’ve only seen this particular style with the casual, beaming Afro-endowed hostess on the front, never the matching male, so perhaps Canadian Club was making a pitch to the swingin’ middle-class lady set that things other than water and lemonade should be pouring out of their petite white pitchers. 

I’ve collected four of these porcelain pitchers from the late 1960s over the years. I’ve only seen this particular style with the casual, beaming Afro-endowed hostess on the front, never the matching male, so perhaps Canadian Club was making a pitch to the swingin’ middle-class lady set that things other than water and lemonade should be pouring out of their petite white pitchers. 
I always liked that the blouse they chose for this hostess was so bold yet conservative, picking up enough of what they perceived as a ‘Right On/ That’s Soul, Baby!’ feeling but still looking like it could have been bought at any department store in the white suburban malls. 5-1/2″ high by 3-1/2″ high and made in the USA, at least Canadian Club’s sprang for printing the image on both sides of the pitcher. Nothing bothers me more in household accessories, especially things like glasses and pitchers where how you pick them up depends on whether you’re right or left-handed, when the image is only stamped on one side. Nothing less expressive for this the happy hostess who writes this blog then drinking out of something that is blank on the side exposed to the public. I’ve collected four of these porcelain pitchers from the late 1960s over the years. I’ve only seen this particular style with the casual, beaming Afro-endowed hostess on the front, never the matching male, so perhaps Canadian Club was making a pitch to the swingin’ middle-class lady set that things other than water and lemonade should be pouring out of their petite white pitchers. 

I always liked that the blouse they chose for this hostess was so bold yet conservative, picking up enough of what they perceived as a ‘Right On/ That’s Soul, Baby!’ feeling but still looking like it could have been bought at any department store in the white suburban malls.

5-1/2″ high by 3-1/2″ wide  and made in the USA, at least Canadian Club sprang for printing the image on both sides of the pitcher. Nothing bothers me more in household accessories, especially things like glasses and pitchers where how you pick them up depends on whether you’re right or left-handed, when the image is only stamped on one side. Nothing less expressive for the happy hostess who writes this blog then drinking out of something that is blank on the side exposed to the public.

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When I was a Girl Scout this was my favorite piece of gear.  Only 2-1/2″ tall at full stature (1″ collapsed), I used to load this baby up with Faygo Red Pop and a teaspoon plop of Sealtest vanilla ice cream and start dipping in my Thin Mints. I loved the sound the cup made as I shuffled the thin layers of collapsible tin like a deck of cards or accordion.

Though this isn’t my actual cup, this one’s adult life has been dedicated to serving as an excellent horse hoof sound effect in my recording studio.

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When I was a Girl Scout this was my favorite piece of gear. I loved the sound it made as I shuffled the thin layers of collapsible tin like a deck of cards or accordion. Though this isn’t my actual cup, this one’s adult life has been dedicated to serving as an excellent horse hoof sound effect in my recording studio.
Only 2-1/2″ tall at full stature (1″ collapsed), I used to load this baby up with Faygo Red Pop and a teaspoon plop of Sealtest vanilla ice cream and start dipping in my Thin mints.

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Meant to “add a little spice” to your food, this kind of risque-but-not-really stuff was all the rage in the 1950’s and 60’s. Sixteen plastic pics that hold canapes together featuring quips like “Lovers Leap – the distance between twin beds”, “Madam – one who offers vice to the lovelorn” and “Bachelor apartment- a wildlife sanctuary”. Many of them are a peek into how different attitudes toward sex were in decades past, like “Patience – the difference between rape and seduction.” Yikes. To think things like this were stuck into bacon wrapped olives and toasted Cheese Whiz baloney puffs…

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The way that pink colored plastic glowed PINK in the 1950’s, baked in super saturated, makes this Mr. Peanut cup my favorite over the red, blue, mint green, beige and yellow ones I also own. Not that this is the rarest piece of Mr. Peanut memorabilia but it always reminds me of weekends as a kid when I was allowed to change the water it held during the week to Kool-Aid or double shot Bosco spiked milk. I’m going to toast my youth now.

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I’m not a drinker but I love vintage bar accessories and drag the best of them out when I entertain on weekends. Nothing is more popular than these pipes that hug a bottle and through which the liquid drains when it’s tipped.

Made in 1961 by Poynter Products Inc. Cincinnati, Ohio, Plastered Plumbers’ slogan is “The whiskey goes ’round and round and round and r…”. This scores an extra notch on the Kitsch belt not only for excellence in concept and slogan but because the the first ’round has an apostrophe in front of it while the rest of them remain bare. Not to mention that the first roun is missing a D. Perhaps diminished capacity on the part of the art director after sampling the product accounts for the diminished punctuation.

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Bowling-Ball-And-Pin-Cup_3002

I’m not a bowler but I love bowling artifacts and memorabilia. I’ve had bowling balls planted in my garden so they look like moon rocks for almost 30 years. I wear bowling shoes. I use bowling bags as purses. I don’t even need to comment on the beauty of bowling league shirts. And I enjoy a nice cup of vanilla with a hit of hazelnut decaf out of this ball every morning.

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