Analysis of My Third Grade Sticker Book: Part III

Welcome to the third, final, and least thrilling installment of my 3rd grade sticker book analysis.

If you missed them: Part I and Part II.

PAGE 13: Butterflies, I Heart My Very Specific Dog Breed

Not a whole lot going on here except for these dumb butterflies, some underwhelming animals and an "I Heart My Pyrenese Berghond" bumper sticker which, in English, is "I Heart My Great Pyrenees."

I, personally, did not heart the Great Pyrenees. This sticker had actually belonged to my brother, whose esoteric tastes, coupled with a weekly rotation of fleeting interests, had led him to temporarily and passionately heart this especially fluffy breed of dog. (We didn't have one.)

My brother's heart-ing for the Great Pyrenees, however, would quickly wane to heart-ing for everything Medieval. This involved stringing stuffed animals along a pole as "game," coming home from a school trip with a brand new mace*, and being really into the Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves movie (starring Kevin Costner) and, by consequence, (Everything I Do) I Do it for You by Bryan Adams.

My only theory is that as soon as Kevin Costner came along, I snagged that sticker like the vulture I was. Because 1) I was obviously desperate to fill my sticker book, and 2) I thought my brother was the coolest, and that meant that an I Heart My Very Specific Dog Breed That I Don't Even Own or Necessarily Care About bumper sticker had to be pretty cool too.

On a separate note: what to do with a shaggy dog looking away with curt disapproval... what to do?


*Remember that we were in Europe, where it's okay for 5th graders to buy lethal weapons of yore.

PAGE 14: Fuzzies

Beyond the single-minded mission of acquisition, presentation, and possession of Lisa Frank, 3rd grade sticker-collecting also involved trading.

It was a cut-throat marketplace governed by one's skillz and the intricate hierarchy of stickers themselves, the latter a system dictated not by any rules but simply the feckless whims of little girl fancy (and for the record, little girls are jerks).

While Lisa Frank, for example, may have been at or near the top of the sticker worth totem pole, there were other contenders too, most of which--like googly eyes, "puffies" and holograms--I didn't have. Once more, the inferiority of my collection was well established. But I did have a few "Fuzzies," a highly-coveted novelty that tapped into the purest, most universal essence of a seven year old heart, the one invariably captive to all things soft and fluffy.

You didn't have to be a girlie girl. I personally hated Barbies and, whenever forced to play house, tried best to stay out of the picture by being the family dog or a friendly mute. But see this lame little guinea pig?

Even that was hot shit for me too.

PAGE 15: Scratch'n'Sniff + Totally Serious Animals

This dragon is grape-scented. I wonder at what point the makers of all things scratch-and-sniffable were like, "Fuck it. Let's just make some dragons mesmerized by smoking marshmallows, and let's make them smell like grapes."

Teen Idol.

Not impressed/About to cry/Just ripped one and hoping no one notices.

PAGE 16: Totally Serious Animals cont., Questionable Cartoon Identities

Here we have:

1) Holy shit! Ozark big-eared bat! X-TREME!


But actually, in real life, these are really small and really cute. They're one of my favorites. If I wasn't against trying to domesticate wild animals, I'd kinda want one as a pet. That way if anybody started messing with me I'd just whip out my hands all Ken/Ryu Streetfighter II* HADOOKEN! and shoot out one of those.

*["Street Fighter II is a video game where two characters have an explosive brawl in a scenic international setting." (Susan Orlean, "The American Male at Age Ten." )]


2) The Great Commercialization of Snoopy

I have a feeling that this particular design probably wouldn't get approved today.


And:
I know it's really exciting to be eating pizza and drinking mugs of root beer the size of your torso, but energetically dancing with pizza and mugs of root beer the size of your torso probably isn't the best idea. Also, not entirely sure if small birds should be eating pepperoni. But then again, I've seen squirrels in Brooklyn eating chicken wings so, carry on, carry on.


3) Speedy G

Huh? I don't remember this guy being a figure skater.

Also, I was totally unaware that he had a cousin named Slowpoke Rodriguez. Who is probably not so much slow as he is so much drunk. As well as a really shitty tattoo.

PAGE 17: Christmas, Avian Friends, Misguided Children

Little children should not:


Be recognized war heroes:

Or awkwardly feign provincialism:


They should be more like this guy:

PAGE 18: Dear Garfield

Dear Garfield,

1)
This is no way to hold a slice. But whatever you do, don't ask Snoopy to show you. He knows nothing. He'll only dance and wave around his slice and spill root beer all over you.

2)
I'm not convinced you would play basketball, because you are famous only for being an obese, lazy, self-centered dick with a propensity for physically and emotionally abusing your peers, but okay, sure, you play basketball too.


3)

Please stop stealing from my collection of Fun Yet Potentially Dangerous Jumbo Things!




(You still haven't returned my Let's Get Meta! Mega Pencil or infant-sized Christmas decor!)


4)
Unless what you are holding is a University of Phoenix Online Associate of Arts in General Studies degree, all I can say is: You? A cat grad? Impossible.

Love,
Me, Who is Sometimes as Lazy as You When it Comes to Annotating Stickers.

PAGE 19: A Really Boring Page Full of Babies

...AND THIS TOTALLY TRIPPED-OUT BUNNY. WHhhoooaaaaa!!

PAGE 20: Halloweenies

As if I didn't already have enough useless Halloween stickers, here are some more.

A completely ineffective ghost:


A cat jammin' on top of a cool-guy pumpkin:


Slowpoke Rodriguez's drinking buddy:


And, um, this really creepy medley of sweets that, save for maybe the candy corn nose, really has nothing to do with Halloween:


Or anything, for that matter.

Also on this page:

90s Mickey:


Nerds:

PAGE 21: An Even More Boring Page with
Some Horses on It

And these suckers! Hahaha!

THE FINAL PAGE: #1 All-Time Anti-Climax Let-Down

Well, this is it. The last page. Instead of ending with a flourish, I chose to end in the dullest, most numbing way possible. Namely, with a shit ton of ducks.

If you are in need of a duck sticker, please call me. I have plenty.


The only things on this page that are even remotely interesting are these:

1) A horse not giving a shit about a hill side billowing smoke.

2) A horse not giving a shit about a dog inexplicably sitting on his back.


CONCLUSION: Given my circumstances, i.e., having to use a totally incompatible cast-off photo album for a lame collection which I had neither the skillz nor the savvy to trade my way out of, combined with a level of impressionability and oh-well attitude that made me easy to rip-off, I tried. I really did.

Ultimately, this 3rd grade sticker book is just another fine example of my tendency, for all of my bravado and courage, to passively accept scenarios I ought to reject.

I was not born to be a 3rd grade champion sticker-collector.


Coming up soon: Why I Was Also Not Born to Be a Writer.


BEHIND THE SCENES BONUS:

It took me a while to finish this post because I got totally sidetracked with some Photoshop-ing. The end result is a good example of how a train of thought typically progresses for me:

1) For the penultimate page 21, I wanted to include an isolated image of this:

And then I was like, actually...


And then I was like, oh wait, shit:




And then, finally, I was like, aw, what the hell:

Balloon Grave

Rogue Spongebob bobbing along the lonely rafters,
Mall of America, c. 2008

Analysis of My Third Grade Sticker Book: Part II

Right. Back to my sub-par 3rd grade sticker collection. Here's Part I if you missed it.

(Remember, you can click the pics to make 'em big):

PAGE 7: The Inevitable Lisa Frank

Before I get started there's just one thing I need to get out of the way:

Witch hats ain't for ghosts, 'tardo.

Now that that's settled, great. Let's get to it.

As much as I'd like to plunge into a full-length discourse on Lisa Frank, there's already enough good, nasty writing on her out there. Google it if you like--but don't come complaining to me after you've wasted 3 hours of your life gorging on Lisa Frank internet findings.

So real quick, the basics: Lisa Frank is the eponymous founder of a neon empire characterized by the aesthetic result of mating a candy raver with a PVC-chief drag queen, glitter, acid, Peggy Bundy's wardrobe Best Of, fever dreams, baby animals and a dash of Yes album cover art. This mix, plastered on every commodifiable surface possible, was immensely popular with the elementary and tween-age crowd of the late 80s and 90s. Little girls = merchandising dream market = her shit was everywhere. Pencils and plastic products aside, if you didn't have any Lisa Frank stickers, you could forget about sticker-collecting completely.

Lisa Frank was not widely available in Europe, which placed her high on the totem pole of sticker worth. I certainly didn't have any of my own and, judging from the lame few that I did have, I'm guessing I traded some decent stuff just to score somebody's leftovers. (I may have even been ripped off -- I'm pretty sure that toucan and flamingo aren't genuine LF).

Apart from the basic rainbows, stars, seizure-inducing clashes of fluorescence, etc., Lisa Frank designs were also distinguished by a cast of specific characters.

Her current website--proof she's still pumpin' out the goods from her lair--offers detailed profiles of "the gang."

*(These profiles are the kind of media gems I live for. I think writing them is my new dream job. There's an orca who studies physics as a hobby, a panda who lists "hunger pains" as a dislike, a pegasus who doesn't like "negative attitudes," and a bear who's interested in "cool shades." But there are too many profiles to include here without this becoming a post solely about Lisa Frank, which I'm trying to avoid. So if you'd like me to address them all separately, let me know in the comments section below!)*

The gang members I have are these:


1) An arrogant Type A unicorn named Markie.


So The Galloping Markie the Unicorn doesn't like Hesitation, Bad smells, or Bullies. Bad smells? You would think that the clouds above the Fantastic World of Lisa Frank (Airfluff Island) could only ever smell like Bounce dryer sheets. Hm. I guess unicorns fart too. Fair enough then.


2) Two glowering Dalmations emerging from burning rings of leopard psychedelia, who may or may not be the damaged, adult versions of Spotty and Dotty Paws, a brother-sister duo who indiscriminately vandalize under the premise of making "anything that's bland, colorful." (As a little bland myself, I take offense.)

My guess is they don those fun paisley print bandanas to add irony to their flat, emotionless stares. Because my guess is also that they will silently remove those fun paisley-print bandanas, douse them in chloroform and then gas you and drag you away. To The Fantastic World of Lisa Frank, of course. They will also be sure to say, "Welcome to prime time, bitch," because they are big-time Freddy Krueger fans.

Yeah, these are officially the most intense Dalmations I've ever seen in my life. And are also available as beach towel, should I ever wish to make lying on the beach a traumatic experience.



3) A multi-colored orb.


Fun! Stuff girls love! Enabling children to exercise their imaginations and creativity!


3) A sulky little bitch.

4) A ball of technicolored insult.

You could look at this and reel off a rambling spiel of how ominously, singularly symbolic this is of the brazenness and frightening proliferation of corporate branding, how this is the visual approximation of the blind, caterwauling decline of society, how this is some condensed, spherical concentrate of a market niche, how wrong it is that we will happily accept being charged for a mere circle of a signature. But really, it's as simple as this:

Lisa Frank: Ripping off children with circles of bullshit since 1979.

PAGE 8: Disaster

Sticker collecting also involved the delicate art of assembly and presentation. An area in which--as we saw in Part I--I displayed zero finesse. We also see it here:


This page makes me sad.

While there is some categorization--

Glitteries: Shiny Bunnies: Creepy Clowns and Pet Shapes:

Partially Damaged Dinosaurs:

Anthropomorphized and Straight up Nasty:

--this page is a disaster. Even without the scars of attempted rearrangement (like I said, once I put a sticker down, it stayed down), the style and composition are pitiful. The unifying factor of these groups is a mystery to me, unless I was actively trying to make this my "Random/Ugly" page, or had a keen and precocious sense of irony.

Which I didn't--I was a pretty mediocre kid. And one who evidently didn't think twice about showcasing what's gotta be the #1 least appealing crew of groceries to ever hang out with. Who wants to be friends with a retarded orange, or a sleazy onion, or a maybe farting banana, or a challenged, toddler drumstick? Not me.

PAGE 9: Clusterfuck

Again. Style, composition, pitiful.

Here we have:

a. A lone, distinguished Pine Marten

b. Sluts

Dammmmmn. When'd Minnie become such a ho? Fishnet gloves? Leopard print leggings? Madonna headbands? Cheap plastic jewelry? Enthusiastic roadside soliciting? Nuh-uh finger pointing? Suggestive, rear-prone posing?


c. Baby Phenomena/Infantilizing of popular cartoons



d. Bullshit teeny tiny sun

I may possibly own the world's smallest and most insignificant sticker ever to exist. And it's upside down.


e. Patricia.

Patricia is not my name.

It always made me sad as a kid that my name wasn't common enough to find in sticker form, or on mugs, or jumbo-sized pencils, or hats, or those cool little fake license plates. I was kinda pissed off at my parents for that.

When I look at this Patricia font, I think "pizazz" and accompanying hand-movements.


f. Euro Smilies


These smilies have a distinct European style of illustration that I don't really know how to explain. It's the vague feeling of second-rateness, of these not being smilies so much as they are a small variation of stock expressions printed onto plain, yellow circles. Maybe it's the eyelashes, or noses, or that one looking wanton, I don't know. It's just Euro, in the same way that this duck is too:

Right? It's just kind of... off. It has eyelids. No one likes ducks with eyelids.

g. Fruity Bear


He has a pride bowtie.

(And you have him to thank for this entire analysis -- finding this sticker was the original inspiration.)

But wait. Could this be a cousin, or counterfeit, or perhaps earlier prototype of... HOLLYWOOD BEAR?



(First of all, next time somebody asks me, "How would you describe your personality?" I will also reply, "You can do anything you put your mind to." Then, when asked what my hobbies are, I will also say, "Stand up comedian.")

Man, Hollywood Bear sure is a party animal. Between going out on the town in style, skydiving, playing saxophone, throwing parties, being glamorous yet down-to-earth at the same time, how does he manage it all?

I'll hazard a guess: cocaine. Lots of it.

The signs are there. His friends worry that he's "too reckless." He likes cool shades--all the better to hide the bloodshot of three day benders. All the better to hide the vacant eyes of a bear grappling with demons; the remorse of the fractured bear he's become. All the better to hide a bear crumbling under the pressure of unfathomable expectation (10 Bearcademy awards! To work with Steven Squealberg!) and the stress of climbing property debt and back taxes on his very own tropical island Bearadise Island vacation villa (now falling quickly into disrepair); a bear bound by the facade of persona, of the entertainer ever marching in top hat and tails (but in celebration of what?). All the better to hide a bear barely there; a bear of despair.




And a bear who knows, in his blackened heart, that he is not who he makes himself out to be, but something tarnished and lost instead.

(Like Mr. Slugworth from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Similar, no?)

PAGE 10: Shinies

Here is an especially shiny page:

Here we have:

A lil bit of floating geometrics-checkered background-hot color scheme motivational 90s flash:


Awww.... birthday dino.

Whoa! Bear violating hearts in grass!

Kinda bullshit.



Total bullshit.


Even with all that sparkle, still a sulky little bitch.

PAGE 12: Ponies and Pumpkins

How much would it suck to wish and pray and beg for a pony, and then get this one:

Bummer!



Coming up in Part III: Gun-toting children, more sulky dogs, Garfield.