Florence, Colorado: What's That Clown Woman Doing With That Horn?

What is that Clown Woman doing with that horn?

As we all know, I enjoy mocking clown collectibles. It all started in Florence, the antiques capital of Colorado where I noticed a disproportionate number of clown collectibles hiding among the classy antiques. Then my mocking spread internationally to Craigslist, Ebay and Etsy.

This latest clown accessory find on Etsy is really SO well done, that it is difficult to find anything to mock or scoff at. But discovering this clown find is really a whole new world for me--and I don't mean like the whole new world you'd find in a Disney movie.

Uh oh, I don't think we are in Kansas anymore Toto, where clowns are just clowns--or even fully dressed clowns. I think we are in over our heads on this one.

I won't speculate on what this woman is doing with that horn. Where I come from we'd say: "I think she's blowing it out her arse." But since she seems like such a nice Clown Woman, I don't think she's blowing it out her arse. Or is she?

What she is doing, according to the ETSY ad, is modeling a: Clown Gold Latex Rubber Circus Costume.

Last week when I was doing my spring/summer wardrobe shopping at Wal-Mart, I thought," Just picking up a few packages of bargain panties, a jumbo bra and some old-lady shorts and T-shirts is a drag. Something is missing. I really need a clown gold latex rubber circus costume."

But I didn't know where to find one until now.

I was SO excited when I found this outfit. They can even custom make it in my size. I wonder if House of Harlot does plus sizes? Of course they do!

  Holy Cold Bosoms, Batman! Is that sheer material I see, with just some pasties covering the nipples? And by pasties, I don't mean Cornish Pasties, that I ate one too many of--and could never fit into this clown costume. It's a bit too nippy in Colorado for this outfit.

But I'm a rebel and just might want to spice up my Wal-Mart wardrobe and have something appropriate to wear to a church potluck or charity fundraiser.

Oh, no, Queen of Questionable Taste. You can't afford me. Plus, you are a mocker of clown collectibles and accessories and you don't deserve me. At least that's what the Clown Woman appears to be telling me in this picture. She's also telling me that her waist measurement is the same size in circumference as just one of my tree-trunk thighs.

She's also telling me that ETSY ain't your granny's craft store and the House of Harlot has outfitted numerous celebrities such as Beyonce--and this all above my pay grade.

This outfit is $1,162.70. I believe the House of Harlot should give me a 70 cent discount for mentioning them on my blog and making it an even $1,162. Considering who probably reads my blog, they will get no business from my eight blog readers, and I should pay them $1,162 just for having the temerity to mention their classy clown costume on my tacky blog.

But I've learned a lot from looking for clown collectibles on ETSY. I learned a new word from the House of Harlot: Fetishistas. Most of their outfits are made of latex, rubber, leather and luxury fabrics. I wouldn't know a luxury fabric if it bit me in the arse. And I didn't know that clown horns make nice arse props. So, I don't want to ever hear that blog is NOT educational. I bet you've learned more about clown collectibles, clown dating and clown accessories than your nightmares and fantasies ever imagined.

The Queen of Questionable Taste mocks clown collectibles and clown accessories on her blog. In her spare time she lives a life of hypocrisy and quiet desperation, and spends up to 20 hours a week dusting her clown collectibles collection with a feather duster wedged between her butt cheeks, dressed in a latex clown outfit she made herself to save $1,000.

Who Says Collectibles Can't Be Funny? Satan Pig, A Sign Of The Apocalypse

The King of Impeccable Taste is a cool character. Not much rattles him. He can look a scary clown in the eye and not flinch. He can see a ratty voodoo doll and only chuckle. He can whip up steampunk junk and fry up bacon in a pan and never, never let me forget he's a man and almost always has impeccable taste.

But one thing on our junket through Florence today rattled him. You know it has to be good to rattle him.

Of course, I screamed, "Come over here. This falls in the category: What The Hell Is This Doing In An Antiques Store." That's what I screamed. But this a family-friendly blog, so I usually refer to things as, what the heck is this doing in an antiques store.

But this thing definitely reminded us both of hell.

I am not lying. The King actually said," What the hell is a Satan Pig doing in here? Pigs don't have horns. I believe this thing is one of the seven signs of the Apocalypse."

"You mean, the sign of Calypso?" I asked. "The tag says it's a Mexican folk art pig. Maybe Calypso made it's way into Mexico more than I suspected?"

"I said Apocalypse," the King said tersely.

Still stunned, I looked for reason and logic in the world of folk art and collectibles.

After all, I have Frida Kahlo collectibles and books. I am a huge fan. I know that Frida, even at her grittiest, would not inflict a Satan Pig into the world of folk art--nor would any folk artist of her fine nation.

 Yes, the King kept hissing,"It's a Satan Pig. You cannot explain it away,"  as he did the sign of the cross.

OK, there are certain things in the world of collectibles and art you just can't explain away. So in order to cleanse and absolve myself, I went on another junket in Florence, the antiques capital of Colorado-- to find more scary clowns. It turns out there are indeed scarier things than clowns.

Fremont County Foodie: The Day I Ticked Off Celebrity Chef, Lidia Bastianich

I plan on eating my way across Colorado. Wait, I've already done that. I've actually ate my way across most of the United States and four other countries. I've just never written about it. I was too busy shoving delicacies down my pie hole to write.

True Story Club will soon feature restaurant reviews by the Fremont County Foodie. Reviews won't just be limited to Fremont County, Colorado. Anytime, the Fremont County Foodie can make a break across county lines and eat--there will be a review.

OK, your new reviewer is really The Queen of Questionable Taste. Questionable taste in antiques, collectibles and a spouse. What's the difference of adding food to the list. So, you can be assured the Queen is also totally unqualified to write restaurant reviews.

Actually the Fremont Foodie has a small, very small resume, of fine dining experience. About a decade ago I decided to apply for a position at a major Colorado newspaper as a...Newspaper delivery person? The editor-in-chief? Ha! Not with my majestic grammar skills. I applied for the lofty position of restaurant reviewer. The editor of the arts and entertainment section emailed back and said he was slightly amused by my gallant, but novice attempt. OK, he didn't say that, but I can read and write between the lines. He did say I was is the top three candidates for the position. Then he never emailed back. I think what he forgot to tell me was that only three people applied and I was in dead last.

            The Queen of Questionable Taste & The Fremont County Foodie's Stunt Double

I couldn't find where one even could attend the University of Restaurant Reviewers. So I gave up my dream of getting paid to be a glutton, I mean a gourmand.

Pictured above is my stunt double. You see, it is imperative that I sneak into restaurants anonymously. I suppose when I whip out my huge, decade-old camera that still uses floppy discs--I will be found out. But maybe not. It seems everyone whips it out--and then posts a review on Yelp or some such site.

Yes, you will be yelping when you read my take on what the eating world has to offer.

My only other brush with real fine dining (outside of venturing off the dollar menu at McDonald's) was the time I slightly ticked off celebrity chef, Lidia Bastianich.

Let me back track. The King of Impeccable Taste and I were in New York many years ago visiting relatives. Why golly! All the tall buildings and that lady holding the torch, really set our country bumpkin hearts a flutter.

I had watched Lidia's cooking show on PBS for years. This was before her son, Joe, became a TV star on such shows as Master Chef and Restaurant Start-up.

My relatives decided to stay home one day, and the King and I set off from Staten Island to Manhattan. We were looking for Lidia's restaurant--Felidia. But we don't know New York City. But we found one of Joe's restaurant's. I can't remember the name of it.

                                                                      Joe Bastianich

Joe wasn't there. And that was fine, since we hadn't seen him on TV and wouldn't have recognized him.

We ate. We died twice. The first time was when we were eating. The food was so good. I remember not what we ate, but we didn't care. Best eats ever. We died the second time when we got the bill. It was $130 for two lunches. And we had mineral water, since the King and I rarely drink wine or other spirits.

This was about a decade ago, when $130 was equivalent to about $200. And way before the King got a decent job. We didn't care if we had to sell our plasma to pay our credit card bill when we got back to Colorado--because we had just stepped into the real world of fine dining.

We went back to my relatives' house and told them we had spent $130 on lunch and didn't care. In my family (yes, Italian--well, sort of--Sicilian, which some people don't consider real Italians) spending over $7 on lunch is high treason. To say that side of my family are thrifty Sicilians is an understatement.

Something is my crazed eyes told my relatives that if we came running back and insisting they go with us to Joe's mother's restaurant, even though it was over $7 per head, it had to be serious.

Since my relatives are thrifty, we offered to pay. But we suggested we just order two lunches for the four of us and split them. They agreed to that. But once they got inside and saw was it was really about--they lost their grip and ordered several lunches.

Even though my relatives are New York born and raised Italians, they had never heard of Lidia Bastianich. 

                                                                  Lidia Bastianich

"Oh, my!" I gushed to my cousin,"I watch Lidia's cooking show on PBS every chance I get, which is odd since I can't cook my way out of a paper bag and don't understand fine dining or cooking. The only words I really understand when she speaks are olive oil, sausage and pasta. There is just something about that lady and her show I like."

My cousin nodded and didn't reply because her face was stuffed with some raspberry-pear ravioli or something. Her eyes were crossing in ecstasy and she made it clear that she still didn't get why I was gushing over Lidia, but agreed the food was the best she'd ever had.

We sat there so long, that all the other diners had pretty much left and it was getting into prep time for dinner. My cousin went to the restroom.

I was looking at the bill, that was close to the price of a small country--but did not care. Yes, that delicious. The King and I and my cousin's husband were chatting when I saw HER out of the corner of my eye.

I have a pretty soft voice and did not mean for my voice to carry. "Oh, my God!" I nudged the King," Look there's Lidia!!!"

She was walking across the dining room, apparently on her way out after a long day. I truly did not mean for her to hear me.

Her body language indicated my screeching had reached her ears and it ticked her off slightly, but she shrugged it off and strode to our table and graciously asked us how everything was. I was mortified, because I had NO intention of her hearing me and coming over. I am rather an introvert.

I couldn't stop gushing, even though I could see she was tired. I told her I watched her on PBS and asked her to sign her newest cookbook for me. She did. What a lady.

The three of us are sitting there in shock after she left. The King was as big a Lidia fan as I was--even before we ate her food. He's usually a little more extroverted and he couldn't say a word, except thank you.

My cousin's husband didn't know who she was, so he just said thanks for the good food.

The door closed as Lidia left her famous Felidia and my cousin returned from the restroom. We told her that she missed Lidia. "Darn!" she yelled. "I always miss everything!" Now, my cousin is the extrovert in the group and would have loved Lidia.

And that is my only brush with fine dining. So, rest assured, I don't know my arse from a souffle. Nor, do I apparently know to use my inside voice when Lidia walks by. So, all that will conspire to get you the most questionable restaurant reviews money can't buy.

Florence, Colorado: The Epicenter of Scary Clowns

The King of Impeccable Taste reminded me today that Florence, Colorado IS the antiques capital of Colorado and that while he enjoys mocking a scary clown or two, that many people actually collect and enjoy clowns.

I told him to prove it and he just stood there with a slack jaw. The King is pretty good at comebacks and came up with this. "Well, they would not have manufactured so many clowns to begin with if there was not a demand."

"Tell that to the Goodwills and thrift stores across the world that are overrun with an abundance of clowns." I smirked.

We'll never win this battle. So, as usual we'll just let the clowns speak for themselves.

All I'm saying is that if Florence is the antiques capital and has the highest amount of antiques stores per capita in the state, then it isn't a far reach that the town just might have the highest capita of scary clowns.

I suppose this clown could be a good learning tool. Perhaps give it to one's young son and tell him: "Why Junior, this clown has a receding hairline just like your dear, old dad. There is such a thing as male pattern balding. So when you grow up, you won't be surprised. And try and get a good education and job, so you can afford some hair plugs."

Oh, my! There's price tags on all of us. Doesn't anyone realize that if you paid people to take us away, we still probably wouldn't get good homes?

Why the little doll dressed up as a bear has a look on her face like she just saw something shocking! Wait, it couldn't be because she just saw a hideous clown stuck in with legit collectibles, could it?

Just When You Think You Found All The Scary Clowns

Just when I think I've located all the scary clowns in Florence, Colorado--some more arise to bite me in my antique-loving tush.

I'll forgive this scary clown because at least he's true vintage and surrounded by some pretty rocking vintage goodies.

But I don't have the same slightly warm fuzzy feelings for this dude. He looks vaguely drugged. Is that a horn, or he sucking on a crack pipe?

Now honestly look me in the eye and my bulbous red nose and tell me that this clown does not look like he has a creepy intent and he is stalking the angel.

What The Heck Is This Doing In An Antiques Store: A Touch Evil

What the heck is this doing in an antiques store? Being the Sherlock Holmes (ette) of antiques in Florence, Colorado--I like to think deep thoughts about antiques, collectibles and other inanimate objects. I like to wonder who brought them into a store and where the items journeyed before they came to Florence--the antiques capital of Colorado.

Tee hee!

Can you even guess what this is? I didn't know until I read the tag. My first guess was a cousin of Gumby with a grass skirt. Perhaps a distant relative of the animated character,  lived in the Pacific Islands or went on a vacation and got a sunburn.

I was wrong. But that happens a lot, so I am used to it.

Once a fellow co-worker and friend told me, "You know, you are a touch evil. And you ENJOY it!"

I try to take everything said to me with a thick skin and a twinkle in my slightly evil eye and glommed on to the fact that she said a TOUCH evil. Not totally evil. And yeah, I like it. A little.

So, that's my hint about this object. It's just a touch evil.

Any more guesses?

OK, I'm not totally evil and won't keep you in suspense. It's a voodoo doll.

I didn't see that this item came with any pins. But if it did, I would have stuck a pin or two in it (in some not too painful place, since I am only a touch evil) and "zapped" the person who brought this into an antiques shop.

Hmmm. Seems like there is yet another category of antiques. Oh yeah, I could bore myself and talk about RECOGNIZED categories of antiques and collectibles. But what fun would that be.

The new category is Purgatory Antiques and Collectibles. I heard a nasty rumor that Kovel's is coming out with a price guide in this category on the twelfth of never.

Why Purgatory Antiques and Collectibles? That refers to items that are not crummy enough to be thrown out, donated to a charity or re-gifted. But are way too crappy for an antiques store, but someone tries to slip them in anyway and hope no one notices.

Perhaps we can start a National Purge Purgatory Day and have bonfires to rid the world of these items.

Now The Scary Clowns Are Getting Rebellious

It was the Queen of the Delightfully Tacky, who was upstairs at The Iron Gate Mall stocking her booth when she screamed," Oh my God! I wasn't even looking for it, but there it is. Another scary clown."

As usual, I trembled with joy and just happened to have my camera.

But this clown is more than scary--he's a touch rebellious.

Can't you see it in his face and his upraised arms? He's planning some type of scary clown rebellion. I can't figure out if he's plotting against the innocent sock monkey or planning to over take me and the Queen of the Delightfully Tacky.

We'll just have to keep an eye on this guy. I think we finally have found the leader of the scary clowns in Florence.

What Would Martha Stewart Do About Florence's Scary Clowns?

I sit up nights wondering what Martha Stewart would do if she was in Florence, Colorado browsing and noticed the amount of scary clowns running amok.

Would she run screaming to the offices of Architectural Digest for a cleansing? Or would she do what the Queen of Questionable Taste does and look those scary clowns in the eyes and immortalize them for the whole world to see?

I think she is a brave and talented woman with impeccable taste who would figure out a creative way for people to use scary clowns in decorating.

If she were as scared of the clowns as I was, I think she'd have too much class to show it.

Since I have little class, I'll just keep on showing the tour of Florence's scary clowns and giving myself the willies.

 Oh my goodness! I can't decide if that's a price tag around the clown's neck or he's finally had enough of this cold, cruel world and decided to do himself in. Please, don't do it clown!

 OK, I give this clown permission to do himself in.

 Stop the madness. This isn't Ringling Brothers. This is Florence for goodness sake!

This clown is saying,"Ssshhh! I have a secret. The Queen of Questionable Taste must die soon. She has done more to discredit our kind than all the previous generations of clown mockers before her."