This week we’re helping Barbara’s mother empty out her basement. It’s full of stuff moved in from her mother’s house, when she died, and these are boxes untouched for 25+ years.
She lived in a little out-of-the-way rural village in central Ohio for years. Collecting, apparently. So as we unpack boxes, we’re traveling back in time to a world where design sensibilities were utterly different. Welcome to the world of Avon.
About 300 pieces of Avon collectibles discovered so far. Among the most bizarre—yet cloyingly attractive—are this doggie:
and this utterly strange arrangement of a milk glass wicker rocking chair, upon which is perched a gold plastic kitty cat:
Now, I’m not questioning taste, needless to say. Any reader will know I’m in no position to question others. But what I am curious about is the cultural setting that gives rise to lines of literally thousands of such items. They’re filled with scent, which is not really intended to be used by the ounce. They’re designed to be outrageous and eye-catching. They share a certain kitschiness, of course, that signals something between the buyers and the sellers.
But… how can there be so little impact on our modern online Internetsy culture by these design sensibilities?
Or am I just begging for trouble, by asking?
What, I wonder, is the Avon of web design? Modern magazine typography? Book design? (I think I know that one: I think the Jehovah’s Witnesses do their books in exactly the same state as the Avon designers did their sculpting.)



