Kitsch-en Kounter: It's A Marshmallow World in the Winter

The other night at a holiday party, the Rice-A-Roni jingle was getting quite a lot of play (not at all unusual for the types of parties I attend).  Once performed, the song is on perpetual replay in everyone's mind until replaced by something equally infectious; the jingle eventually led to intense and provocative discussions of other processed foods and pre-packaged meal-aids like Hamburger Helper and Shake 'N Bake.  With equal parts pride and embarrassment, I had to admit that in all my years, I had never tried any of these products (fancy, name-brand items were reserved for the rich and famous).  For better or worse, we were raised without the benefit of many packaged and processed foods; that meant no "San Francisco Treat," no TV dinners, and definitely no Hostess Sno Ball snack cakes.  

All these years my parents deprived us of  the "Energy snack!"

(Source)

On the way home from the same party we were listening to a stellar, Christmas music mix that included "It's A Marshmallow World," as performed by the inimitable Darlene Love (a welcome replacement for the ringing bell of a San Francisco cable car).  After a full night's sleep of digesting lyrics like "It's a yum-yummy world," "It's a whipped cream day," "In winter it's a marshmallow world," and "The world is your snowball," I kid you not when I woke up and exclaimed aloud, "SNO BALL CAKE!!!"  Thus, the next entry into our wacky tacky Kitsch-en Kounter was born.  It's like the song was written by Hostess as jingle for it's snowy, pink treats.

Obviously, reproduction Sno Balls are not an original concept.

This vintage ad for Swift'ning Shortening shows that cotton 

candy-colored coconut cakes are a perennial favorite.

(Source)

Like a well-formed snowball, all the birthdays in my family are densely packed around the holidays; I knew that the next birthday cake I made had to be an homage to the coconut confection of the same name.

The inspiration - a rich, devil's food cake filled with cream, covered
in a layer of marshmallow and dusted with bright PINK coconut.

Don't get me wrong Mr. Presley, your "Blue Christmas" may be second only in colorful, yuletide magic to Mr. Crosby's "White Christmas," but I think that I have forever been converted to a PINK Christmas! 

I'll have a pink Christmas!
I was surprised to find that a twelve-pack of Sno Balls was just under three dollars - leaving me wondering why it is so much cheaper (in the short run) to eat junk food.  Instead of pondering the complexities of a serious subject like my own place in America's obesity epidemic and healthcare crisis, I grabbed the Sno Balls and a box of Copitos (some strange, pink coconut/marshmallow blob on a chocolate cookie trying to horn in on the pink coconut craze) and made it out of the store for just over four dollars!

My Sno Ball is a three-layer, devil's food cake with whipped-cream filling.
The icing is a pink-tinted, marshmallow buttercream with dyed-to-match coconut.

Now is the time when I must admit that I still have not had an official Sno Ball snack cake; I didn't save any room after indulging in a hefty slice of my own creation.  Beyond their 1940's provenance and ultra-kooky aesthetic (immortalized in John Waters' Hairspray), I think Sno Ball's are best appreciated from afar (or in the form of a homemade dessert).

Our Sno Ball Tableau
My usual more-is-more philosophy kept nagging me as I patted on the last flakes of pale-pink coconut.
I racked my brain for additional decoration ideas until I remembered that I was trying to recreate the
 simplistic beauty of the original Sno Ball.  Even without adornment, the wacky tacky Sno Ball Cake
is sure to have Mr. Tiny dreaming of a pink Christmas!

"It's A Marshmallow World" - Darlene Love

Have you ever had a Sno Ball or Rice-A-Roni for that matter?  In what color do you dream your Christmases? 

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

p.s. If you've got a hankering for a Sno Ball, you're welcome to come over.  I have a dozen with your name on them! Ho-Ho-Hostess, Merry Christmas!

Collecting: Mr. Rogers Style

I wear a uniform - not because of work demands, not because I am the oldest student left behind at St. Cosmas of Aphrodisia's Preparatory School (it's a real Catholic saint, I swear), and not because I am a  convicted felon writing to you from deep inside the state penitentiary.  I wear a "uniform" because I am a creature of habit, laziness, and ultra low-maintenance.

As much as I love, ponder, and design fashion, my own personal style can best be described as "Mr. Rogers revisited."  On any day of the week, you will probably find Mr. Tiny wearing a version of the iconic look made famous by Fred Rogers - in his casual, I'm-home-so-it's-time-to-get-comfy-and-change-my-shoes state.  Unwittingly, I have created a small collection of a wardrobe item that is almost always associated with golfers, octogenarians, or both - the cardigan.

Mr. Tiny's cardi collection
Winter white, yellow, orange, the many shades
of red, black, navy, aqua, baby blue, gray, and tan.

In calling it a collection, I get mildly self conscious.  It is like the scene in the original Hairspray when, during the audition process for "The Corny Collins Show," Penny is asked how many sweaters she owns.  Honestly, what is the right answer to that question?  Obviously five was too few, but is thirteen enough?  Too many?  Most of my sweaters are vintage, but I am not snobby on that issue as the same came to me courtesy of the thrift store's discount day.

One of my favorites to wear is this aqua/deep green, 
acrylic cardigan with an embroidered monogram.

Everyone asks what the letters stand for and I have fun
making names up or saying that it was a hand-me-down 
from an oddly-shaped giant. 

Obviously, I have no shame, as with this tag you have woven proof of my
size and my official relegation to shopping in the "For big men" department.

Not only do I like the tag's font, this piece of "exclusive
sportswear" makes me feel like the Squire of Canyon Square.

A cardigan is so often a part of my outfit that I feel nearly naked without one.

And nobody wants to see me naked...nobody...

It is a wearable security blanket.  It is a finishing touch.  It is a layer that offers warmth without too much (and very unnecessary) bulk.  It is an homage to one of the best creators, writers, performers/puppet voices in the history of children's programming. 

"Garden of Your Mind" - Fred Rogers

An exceptional use of Auto-Tune

What do you think of Mr. Tiny's cardigan obsession; is it bordering on the pathological?  Obviously I haven't gone too crazy - no stripes, multi-colors, or patterns.  What about you?  Is there a wacky tacky wardrobe staple without which you would just cease to live?

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

HAIR, Th-HAIR, and Everyw-HAIR

Do you ever get the feeling that you just don't belong?  The feeling that even after triple checking your ticket, you're almost positive that you have been invited by mistake.  You know, the feeling you get when you show up, to a sea full of people with asymmetrical haircuts and layers of avant garde, black clothing, and you're wearing a cap, a plaid jacket and a red bandana?  

Yeah, I get that feeling too.

I decided that instead of running from situations where I get that feeling, I am going to start running towards them.  Sometimes the wacky tackiest thing to do is step outside the box and attend an event that soars far outside the wacky tacky radar.

When our friend, Amber, a very reputable sales representative for a very well-known line of quality, salon products, invited us to the huge hair show hosted by her company, honestly, I wasn't that excited.  Then I remembered that episode of Ricki Lake where stylists were competing in a hair show; I vaguely recalled a pair of hair chaps and a working fountain on top of someone's head and said, "I'm there!"  

"Weaven Steven" on Ricki Lake

It took some convincing from Mary to get me to go after Amber informed me that there was absolutely no chance that one of the models would show up wearing hair epaulets and there would most certainly not be a weave with a built-in engine from a model helicopter that made the multi-color ponytail spin.  Even when we pulled in the parking lot, I wondered if I was going to be bored out of my gourd.  My attitude immediately changed as we walked through the doors.

Representatives from
Monsieur Tiny's Maison des Coiffures
Do we look legit or what?

Upon entering, the energy was great; the music was playing, the crowd was wild, and there were snacks everywhere!!!  We had to sign in and I was caught slightly off guard when we were asked to identify the salon that we represented - this was, after all, an industry event.  Without hesitation, I listed myself as the proprietor of Monsieur Tiny's Maison des Coiffures.  The young woman at the check-in table seemed appropriately amazed that I would attend this shindig and I detected a air of deference (and maybe a small salute) as she handed us our passes specially-marked "General Admission."  My ego was slightly deflated when Mary informed me that general admission was not a commissioned office of distinction, like General Colin Powell or General Ulysses S. Grant.  Nevertheless, I was glad to have come.  We quickly found Amber and started making the rounds. 

Amber and her all-access pass.  

Whither thou goest, we couldn'tst follow.

It was apparent, or should I say "app-HAIR-ent," that 60's was the theme for the evening - at least for Mary and Amber.

Mary and Amber do the double-reverse bouffant twist with a jack knife.

We made it just in time for the runway show that included highly-stylized hair trends meant, much like haute couture, as inspiration for what will become more wearable trends in the future.  The show also represented the best of creative North American stylists who were competing for prizes, trips, and bragging rights.  The show wasn't just about hair though; there were aerialists, b-boys, contortionists, live demonstrations of styling, models falling on the runway, people spinning inside of giant Hula Hoops, and dancing shrimp!  Here are some images from the show; please forgive the crummy quality.  You already know that I'm not a gifted photographer and while they looked pretty solid on the little screen on my camera, the photos are a little lacking in a larger format.

Seriously, dancing shrimp.  Relative to what, I know not.
For some reason they appear in the photo like they're glowing under a black light.
Mary said that halfway through their performance, one of the shrimp's leotards split
right up the rear seam.  Fortunately, no efforts to devein the shrimp were attempted.

The end of the show resulted in awards, tears, and confetti! We took the opportunity to walk around, talk, and take some photos with some of the creative minds and the models.

From the front

And the rear

There were so many cool photo ops that we had to snap a few photos of the dress I made for Mary.  Pretty soon thereafter, the confetti proved just too alluring and she didn't want to stand still.

She wore an eyelet lace, trapeze-style, 60's dress in bright yellow with bell sleeves.

Getting a little too party time in the confetti blizzard.

Other people saw how much fun the confetti could be,
 and they joined in the confetti-angel making.

Believe it or not, the strangest part of the evening was not lying on the floor making confetti angels, it was the amount of attention we were getting.  I guess we stood out in our kooky get-ups, but I never get a second glance from anybody.  All night long people were complimenting us and  telling us how cool we were.  Trust me on this one, I have NEVER been the cool kid, so between the hair, the confetti and the compliments, the evening was the height of surrealism in action.

It may not have been Ricki revisited, but it was a great opportunity to see how a creative industry celebrates its talent and skill.  Next time you reach for the teasing comb and Aqua Net, just remember those intrepid hairstylists that paved the way for your crazy hair.  Thanks, Amber, for the amazing evening and helping me take a giant leap outside the wacky tacky comfort zone!!!

Wheeeeeeeeeee!!!

"Hair" - Zen

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny