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When the first four Holiday Inns were built in 1953, this was the ashtray that was sitting in the rooms. Heavy glass with raised lettering and cigarette rests, the shape is perfect 1950’s, the font iconic. I don’t go out of my way to collect Holiday Inn artifacts, but through the years I’ve amassed cups, matches, ashtrays from all the decades, postcards, playing cards, ice tea spoons, room keys and more.  I even have this sign from a Holiday Inn somewhere in California. It’s rusty but you would be too if you baked outside for the last 60 years.

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I’ve always loved the concept of Holiday Inns, the first roadside chain motel founded on the concept that if you knew what you were getting you would feel as comfortable as if you were home. The rooms were all basically the same – clean,  family-friendly and  really easy to get to because signs like this were in clear view of the highways. And in the 1950’s everyone was on the road.  The war was over, the cars were massive and beautiful, and the American middle class mindset was such that they thought they might soon be vacationing on the moon. I didn’t own this Studebaker until the 1980’s but the parking lots of Holiday Inns were all stuffed full of eye-popping gems like this so that as soon as you turned into them you were psychologically prepped to enjoy your stay.

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This was taken in the parking lot of a Holiday Inn in 1986. I got a room one day to write because I couldn’t concentrate at home.

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I never smoked in my car so it remained as pristine and lovely as one of the rooms in a Holiday Inn. If I had smoked though, I might have lifted this from my room so my ash was deposited in something as stylish as my car.

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But, alas, I bought it on eBay along with this postcard, longing for the days when life was this beautiful, convenient, stylish and cheap.

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There are many things I love about this “Italy” fashion emporium in Van Nuys, California:

• The thoughtfully placed swathed-in-jeweled-look-denin-jeans torso-less mannequin so that her ass is facing incoming  customers and hogging up much of the walkway.

• The only entrance to the store being from the crowded parking lot in back.

• The accent traffic cone.

•  The Hush Gentleman’s Club sign on the roof adding even more exterior elegance.

•  The big sale for 1 suit, 1 shirt and 1 tie for $99 despite there being no evidence of men’s clothing inside.

• The bar outside:

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• The decidedly tropical, nowhere near Rome mural painted on the side of the store.

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But more than anything, it’s the jeweled-look jeans at the end of the store’s asphalt carpet that race the distinctly non-Italian named Virgil’s the final mile up the mountaintop of Kitsch.  Dotted with paint, the glittering rhinestone patterns are sure to glisten forever, insuring the classy Virgil’s vibe stay with each and every discerning customer long after she leaves the parking lot.

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I drove up to Monterey on Friday from LA. Most people would get excited about going to the Aquarium or Cannery Row but I get excited about the cheesy names of the roads on a shortcut we take from the 5 to the 101 off an exit called Lerdo Higway that connects you to Highway 46 where James Dean met his maker. Once you exit the 5, the first “main street” you hit is Main Drain.

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I don’t know about you but other than myself I can’t think of many people who would be happy to live on a street so eloquently named. A couple of miles further comes a road I’ve also always loved the name of as I can’t figure out how anyone could have arrived at naming it such:

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Exactly which brown material I’m not sure of though the fact that there are a lot of cows in the area brings a certain brown something to mind. We were very excited as we approached the actual street sign, only 50′ away.

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But just as I was about to hop out and be photographed under the street sign I’d sworn I would capture myself under one day as I sped past it my last five trips to Monterey I realized something was wrong. We slowed down trying not to disrupt traffic, a couple of tractors and a van with a bucking bronco ridden by a pig painted on the side. To our horror, all that was left of the Brown Material Rd. signage was a lonely pole, a screw plate and one dangling rusty bolt. As many times as I’d thought about doing the same thing I can’t believe someone actually had the balls to do it. If you know anyone with a Brown Material street sign hanging anywhere please let me know.  But thankfully, Brown Material is apparently a U-shaped road as 100 feet ahead we came across this:

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Not as impressive as spelling out the full word but Brown Mat will do. It’s still such a silly name for a street. Maybe out here in the country Mat means what Place often does in the city. For example, there’s a 21st St. and a 21st Place right next to each other in Santa Monica. The Place is just as long as the Street but apparently something distinguishes the two and maybe that’s the relationship between Material and Mat. Either way, I’m happy just to have gotten this shot. The tractors and bronco pig van were already too annoyed with us with slowing, almost pulling over and then not so although I was able to get this street sign shot there is no evidence of me standing under it.

Three minutes later we hit the last place James Dean stopped before climbing into his Spyder 550 and smashing head on into a 1950 Ford that entered his lane, entering Immortality.

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The original Blackwell’s Corner used to be a small vintage structure but was modernized recently into this faceless hulking industrial shed.

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But the inside is still wonderful where they sell hundreds of different kinds of home harvested nuts displayed alongside excellent kitsch-heavy merchandise. Note the East of Eden Fudge Factor sign behind the elegant plastic ice buckets with foil stuffed inside to show off the “crystals”:

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I always get some chocolate covered pistachios for the road and then shoot a few photos of the giant James Dean head out in front, one of many heads that pepper the highways in these parts although all the others are men in overalls harvesting broccoli or a grandma enjoying a nice head of lettuce.

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Now that I’m here in Monterey the streets have normal coasty kinds of names and there are no giant heads of Doris Day, Clint Eastwood or any of the other notables who live here. I always have a nice time when I’m here but if left to my own devices I’d be exploring the sights – or lack of them – on Brown Material Road.

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I have no idea what the NLBA is but apparently they covet grapes, handshakes, a wine bottle or a hat- I’m not sure which it is in the bottom left corner of the shield – and what appears to be a bunch of asparagus in the top right. Whatever these revelers did it was on November 7-10, the latter of which is my birthday, 1954 in Los Angeles.  Maybe it has to do with the Olympics as half of the interlocking rings are there too. Maybe Shriners?  I don’t know but they sure make a sturdy ashtray. Made of  copper and glass it’s large enough to hold at least 10 Marlboros, Viceroys, Kents or Camels that undoubtebly got crushed in them constantly during those four days in November and for years to come.

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In part 2 I take you on a tour of even more grand and kitschifyingly wonderful monuments of aesthetic in my beloved east San Fernando Valley just outside of Hollywood. This time eye-popping wonders include giant golf balls, plaster families, official city art that says I don’t know what about the city, nipping happy faces, Russian onion domes, ancient Italy, unnatural rock, glittery hemp, an airborne 59 Corvette,  Amelia Earhart and a misplaced giant Emmy.

If you haven’t seen Part 1 with the spewing volcanoes, frog families and shoe cars go here now.

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With 3D all the rage today many people forget that the first ubiquitous mass consumer experience with the technology was with View-Masters.  Introduced in 1962, one could view seven 3D images as they spun around on a paper disc creating lifelike reality inside the mouse hole of two eyepieces. The earliest View-Masters featured popular tourist attractions like this one of Miami Beach, where I first started buying these.

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When I was young my parents drove to Miami Beach from Detroit twice a year.

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We stayed at the Carlyle Hotel.

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I bought every Viewmaster reel of Miami Beach I could find because the Deco architecture drove me so batty. When I had my first hit record I immediately bought a house that reminded me of Miami Beach.

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A frequent visitor to my house is Charles Phoenix, one of my best friends and Kitschmaster General of vintage slide shows and books featuring insanely on-the-nose location and human examples of living wheels of brie.  The last time he came over, Charles gave me a lesson in how to bake one of his signature Cherpumples, a cake with three pies stuffed inside of it.  As soon as I get done editing the footage we shot I will post our instructional film.

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Something like the Cherpumple with M&Ms bubbling out of the pepto -bismolian-pink frosting and utensils at rest would make an excellent 3D photo if only we had the right camera.

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Yesterday, I went downtown with Prudence Fenton, Nancye Ferguson and Jim Burns and saw Charles’ first ever all 3D retro slide show.

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We learned a lot about how 3-D photography and View-Masters came into being.

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We saw a lot of families in the 50’s learning how to not only use their View-Masters but make their own 3D reels.

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Of course, you won’t be able to see anything clearly because you don’t have your 3-D glasses on. As opposed to this slide from Charles’ show featuring an attractive threesome with a very clear view of the LA freeway when it was built in 1960 standing less than 10 feet away next to oncoming traffic.

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I hope to have a clear view of the week ahead of me although it could go either way. I could feel like an outsider…

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… or I could choose to see the world in super enhanced, bigger than life 3D.

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Thank you, Charles for an excellent afternoon and thank you View-Master for putting 3-D in the palm of our hands.

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Last night I found myself in the middle of another food fest, this time at Ciudad, another one of Top Chef Master competitor Susan Feniger’s restaurants in LA which she owns along with co-stupendous Chef Mary Sue Milliken.  Border Grill in Santa Monica and Las Vegas is theirs too.  As long as Susan remains on Top Chef Masters there’ll be a screening of the Bravo show each week at one of her restaurants, including my beloved Street.

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Just like the first time that Susan was on and slayed the dragon in both challenges, it happened again last night as she and her blue team won a blindfolded Quickfire challenge and cooking for an out-of-town wedding party of 150 guests. As they toiled away, those of us at Ciudad sat outside downtown, hugged by gorgeous skyscrapers, watching it on TV.

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Sample portions of some the winning food was passed around as we watched the competing chefs cook it. Here’s the Potato Baujia with mint cilantro chutney:

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When I go to dinner I don’t like to eat at long tables. Not only do you get cheated out of who might be down at the other end but sometimes the food hovers perilously out of your reach. For occasions like this I like to have my trusty Extendable Fork.

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Luckily I was good friends with everyone sitting at my table, (L-R) Prudence Fenton, Liz Lachman, me, Chef Susan, Nancye Ferguson and Jim Burns, so using the Extendable Fork was not viewed as an intrusion.

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I managed to poke the 3 foot long fork into almost everything. I was too busy perfecting my utensil maneuvers, however, to remember to photograph my favorite salad EVER, the Romaine Hearts with chile rajas, plantain croutons, cabrales and blue cheese vinaigrette, as well as the Argentine Empanadas with wild mushroom, warm chipotle sauce; spinach with pine nuts, raisins, manchego and salsa verde and the Chorizo Crusted Diver Scallops with wild seasonal mushrooms, yuca 2 ways, green gazpacho sauce and minted baby tomatoes. I did, however, manage to hold the camera as well as my Extendable Fork while eating the following dishes:

Peruvian Ceviche with mahi mahi, avocado, lime, ginger and aji amarillo chile:

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Roasted Red and Gold Beet Salad with frisee, goat cheese emulsion, marcona almonds, olive crumble and thyme gelée:

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Piquillo Glazed Boneless Beef Short Ribs with roasted garlic and plantain mofongo, brussel sprouts and bacon and radish salad:

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Regretfully, I forgot to use my Extendable Fork for the following two dishes. Grilled Skirt Steak with warm salad of arugula, baby potatoes, seared red onion, portobello mushrooms, shishito peppers and red chimichurri…

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… and, I could be wrong about this, but I’m pretty sure this is lightly seeded and seared Ono Poblano Tiradito with avocado, petite greens, roasted poblano chile sauce, and soy-aji panca sauce.  Either that or it’s the Roasted Poblano Chile Relleno with potato rajas, cotija cheese, quinoa salad, salsa verde and spiced tomato sauce. I forgot to take a photo of one of them and have no idea which. I can just tell you that whatever this was it was delicious. (Looking at it closer now I’m changing my vote to the Chile Relleno because of those little round grain things poking out of the sauce.)

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All of this was topped off with seven different desserts including Rainforest Macadamia Brownie with vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce,
dulce de leche and toasted coconut and Berry Encanalado, a light sponge cake, cajeta and macerated fresh berries with maple whipped cream.

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It was incredible to eat a meal watching the very chef who prepared it battle for food supremacy on TV.  Susan was the only chef I saw last night who dove to the floor in service of culinary perfection:

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I’m not sure what she’s doing down there but I’m pretty sure it led to winning the challenge with the Egyptian Semolina Cake with Berries & Cream, shown here in this incredibly blurry photo as my Extendable Fork, in use by someone else at the table, knocked my arm as I tried to take the shot.

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It was a winning night all the way around. I got to see Mary Sue, who I haven’t seen since she and Susan hosted an Obama fundraiser at her house featuring 40 different dishes in 2008.

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That’s Prudence Fenton down in front. She also enjoyed the use of the Extendable Fork last night.

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The Extendable Fork and I felt this was a very memorable meal and salute Susan for nailing all four Top Chef Masters challenges she’s faced so far.

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The Extendable Fork, also known as The Freeloader Fork,  is available at Archie McPhee.  Great food is available at Ciudad, Border Grill and STREET.

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I am so absolutely not a cook so the fact this 1950’s kitchen tool de-veins and peels a shrimp in one fell swoop isn’t what I cherish most about it but, rather, the gorgeous aesthetics that grace the box. From the pre-psychedelic background pattern on the lid…

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… to the gorgeous color palette inside, the bizarre lower arm graphic with little devils popping out of it as they rise in steam from the non-boiling-over pot below, the meaning of which completely escapes me,…

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… to the shiny ribbon and Shrimpmaster tag laden layer of brittle plastic that still ripples over the pristine utensil – all of this is mastery in 1950’s package design.

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I bring up the Shrimpmaster today because I dined at Street last night with three as artfully designed friends, two of which were vegans and one who was vegetarian. So as not to send them screaming from the table when my usual steaming platters of Tatsutage Fried Chicken and Lamb Kakta Meatballs arrived, I ordered Andouille Sausage And Shrimp Gumbo. Yeah, it was pumped full of delicious smoked hot link sausage but all evidence of that was hidden under the okra, corn and red beans and rice while massive shrimp played lookout on top.

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The monster Crustaceans were beautiful and clean, as if someone in the kitchen took to them with a Shrimpmaster, though I know the chefs are skilled enough to accomplish this without the handy vintage tool.

My dinner companions were Tiffany Daniels, Mito Aviles and ChadMichael Morrisette.

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Tiffany played Squeak in the first National Tour of my musical, The Color Purple. Squeak’s crowing scene in the show occurs in a bar brawl with the much beefier Sofia. Compared to Sofia, Squeak is a SHRIMP.

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Just last week, Mito and Chadmichael led an ‘art attack’ on the West Hollywood City Council and not so long ago hung a Sarah Palin mannequin in efigy from their roof, an act that was plastered throughout the press. These boys are certainly NOT SHRIMPS when it comes to self expression.

As far as the SHRIMP-worthiness of our meal, there were no such critters in the vegan dishes like Indonesian Peanut Noodles:

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And none in the Stir Fried Chinese Brocolli:

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The Toasted Amaranth with slivered almonds, cuzco corn and roasted yam in almond milk was a no shrimp zone as well:

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Crossing into vegetarian territory there was positively no shrimp in the Ono Sashimi.  Our waiter pointed out that this particular serving resembled an actual fish.

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The rest of the meal was filled in with Burmese Lettuce Wraps, Fried Plantains, some kind of specially made vegan desert with too much fruit for this candy worshipper to want to try and a big ball of smooth chocolate something sprinkled with powdered sugar. No shrimp were harmed in the making of any of these dishes. But had there been a need, I know the Shrimpmaster was primed and ready for service.

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Anyone who knows me knows I love Reality TV.  Of all the contestants on all the nutty dating shows I went especially nuts over Chance and Real, aka Ahmad and Kamal Givens aka The Stallionaires, real-life brothers and finalists 2 and 3 on season one of VH-1’s I Love New York. I liked them so much that I co-wrote and co- produced the theme song,  “Does She Love Me”, to their spin-off VH-1 show, Real Chance of Love, with them and younger brother, Micah.

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As trillions of young girls will tell you, Real is known for his long silky locks.

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So much so that last week he launched his Real Silk line of hair care products at the salon that bears his name in Long Beach.

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After an hour of tooling up and down Lakewood Blvd. trying to make sense of the googlemap directions I finally made it to the salon minutes before the opening was over where I was meeting my fabulous friend and Borat hooker, Luenell.

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Normally I would have been pissed arriving this late anywhere but I was very happy to find this giant bunny building while I was busy being lost.

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These are four of the funniest people I know. And we all have great hair.

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You can too if you pop down the coin for a bottle of this:

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Margaret Keane is the High Priestess of Pop Art, painting those huge waif eyed paintings that stared out at everyone throughout the 60’s and 70’s and are still copied and emulated to this day.

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Last Thursday night I got to see not only so many of the original historic paintings but new works by Keane as well who hasn’t lost a gnat’s hair of technique.

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This happened inside one of the greatest places in LA, the Phyllis Morris Showroom. Although Phyllis herself, creator of the original poodle lamp and unquestionably one of the greatest designers who ever lived at the high and artful end of Kitsch, isn’t still with us her creations very much are. Being in the actual presence of Keane and surrounded by both women’s work which not only dominated the eras they came from but still impact Pop Culture today was about as uplifting and exciting an art moment as this Pop artist could have. (I guess I’d have to throw in the time I walked past LA Eyeworks and through the window saw Andy Warhol staring at a motorized piece of art of mine for over five minutes. Him calling me a genius when I walked in was a watershed moment.)

There’s a movie in the works about Margaret Keane with Kate Hudson signed on to play Margaret. Her story is fantastic. Her husband, Walter, was a crafty businessmen and convinced his wife to basically paint and shut up. It was his name that was on all of her paintings and it was he who made multiple appearances on Johnny Carson, did all the interviews and got all the glory. Margaret is still very soft-spoken but came to her senses in an infamous 1965 court case during their divorce when she rightfully and finally claimed that the paintings that made Keane a household word were actually hers. When her husband called her a liar the judge set two easels up and asked them both to paint. Margaret got up and knocked out one of her famous big sad eyed paintings while Walter complained of a sore shoulder and sat there like a lump. Feminism was at its height and Margaret instantly became an Olympian sized champ.

I only own some Keane prints from back in the day. I would have loved to have bought one of her paintings last Thursday but as opposed to the few dollars they cost in the 60’s they now average between $75,000 and $225,000.

As far as Phyllis goes, I hope to go back to the showroom to shoot a video with Jamie Adler, Phyllis’ daughter who runs it now and is a fantastic designer in her own right.  Her mom set the bar for merging Art and Kitsch, magnificently over-the-top Baroque creations that remained totally tasteful and full of importance and humor.  Throughout the four decades she was designing, Phyllis’ oversized beds, chairs, wall units and accessories filled the homes of folks unafraid to embrace their own uniqueness and style like Liberace and Elvis Presley. Here’s Phyllis and her dyed pink poodles in 1953 with some of the first poodle lamps that rolled off the assembly line:

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Now back to the showroom Thursday night:

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Thank you, Margaret and Phyllis, for the never-ending inspiration, talent and fun!

Main Photo: Katy Winn