The Junk Man’s Daughter
Allee Willis is Queen of Kitsch
The problem is compounded by people who feel compelled to give her their kitsch. A guy at last night’s party offered her his Gucci-upholstered 1979 Cadillac El Dorado. “It’s evidently been in a lot of hip-hop videos,” she says, sighing. “God only knows what’s happened on those seats.”
In the future, she envisions, people will bring her their kitsch to appraise. A traveling show has been discussed, a kind of poor man’s version of the TV series Antiques Roadshow. She believes this would be a smart career move.
Willis walks from the bedroom to the dining room to the basement. “I remember everything I have and where it is,” she says, surveying the menagerie of salt-and-pepper shakers in the kitchen. “What I’m starting to not remember is where I got everything and how much I paid.”
Eventually she enters the office of her home recording studio. The plastic IKEA bubble curtains there are not kitsch, but they are shower curtains, and using them like regular curtains is definitely kitschy.
Looking out the window to the backyard, you can see Tiki masks nailed to the trees. Do the eyes glow?
“Oh, my God, how did I not think of that?” she asks. “By the next time you come here, they will.”
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Publishing:
ONOFF
