Sex Sells Shower Curtain
For those unencumbered by familial obligations on Christmas Day, there's little more entertaining than venturing off into the crisp, cold San Francisco streets to peruse crap in Chinatown. And what wondrous crap there is to behold!
Selling pedestrian goods via copious presentations of sexuality is an old device. Certainly using 1980s-vintage images of tawdry women in various states of undress seems more natural for shower curtains than for, say, chewing gum. But the jarringly heavy-handed -- and heavy elsewhere, too -- use of risqué models to hawk 99-cent plastic curtains quickly grows bizarre when one thinks through the sales pitch. Is the quality of the nude Jazzercise model on the package a motivating factor when buying discount bathroom paraphernalia in Chinatown trinket palaces? Apparently so.
But wait -- these curtains aren't poisonous:
Selling pedestrian goods via copious presentations of sexuality is an old device. Certainly using 1980s-vintage images of tawdry women in various states of undress seems more natural for shower curtains than for, say, chewing gum. But the jarringly heavy-handed -- and heavy elsewhere, too -- use of risqué models to hawk 99-cent plastic curtains quickly grows bizarre when one thinks through the sales pitch. Is the quality of the nude Jazzercise model on the package a motivating factor when buying discount bathroom paraphernalia in Chinatown trinket palaces? Apparently so.
But wait -- these curtains aren't poisonous:
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Sure, it's tasteless. But at least it's poison-free. If they want me to shell out for poisonous shower curtains, the model is going to have to show a bit more, right?
Perhaps that's what's going on below. No mention on the noxiousness of these curtains -- but the cover model isn't leaving much to the imagination:
Perhaps that's what's going on below. No mention on the noxiousness of these curtains -- but the cover model isn't leaving much to the imagination:
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In the end, your humble narrator bought no shower curtains. I did, however, obtain a pair of $5.99 house slippers, that, when paired with linoleum floors, answer the question, "What would it look like if F. Scott Fitzgerald went out for the Ice Capades?"
Why must Christmas come but once a year?
Follow us on Twitter at @SFWeekly and @TheSnitchSF
Why must Christmas come but once a year?
Follow us on Twitter at @SFWeekly and @TheSnitchSF
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