I’m in love with a sailor. He’s got an adorable heart tattooed on his bicep. I know this because he never, ever wears a shirt. The curl of his upper lip is only surpassed by the twist of his narrow mustache. I swoon as I relish the rakish tilt of his hat which accentuates his haunting blue eyes. As I gaze upon his sculpted form, he rests his hands on his swimmer’s hips as if to say, “Bottoms up!”
No wait, that’s incorrect. It flat out says “Bottoms up!” It’s carved right there on the mug….and what a glorious mug it is.
This mug was made for me. I’m telling you, this mug and I were separated at birth and have spent the last 33 years searching for THIS kind of connection. Look what it says right here on the back. I can’t even count how many times I’ve screamed those two words from a street corner, roof top, pool table, or stranger’s lap during my favorite week of the year. Oh my dearest Sailor Mug, I’m so glad you came home with me Friday night.
La Mano’s Oktoberfest was fantastic, as it is every year. I haven’t been so misty eyed for mud in quite some time. I had a terrible time choosing between sailors, pin-ups, florals, creepy doll heads, faux beer cans, and a bevy of other beautiful beverage containers. My sailor won not just because he looks so saucy in his little sailor cape, but also because he was the very last one. All the others were already sold out!
Talking with the artist, I asked if she had perhaps under priced her pieces. Her answer was a resounding yes. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess it might also have a little something to do with her audience as well. Hard to imagine a slew of cutie gay boys hanging out in Chelsea would be drawn to the works depicting half naked sailors, ain’t it?
The show is up until the end of the month. Stop by and support local artists! On that note, hopefully this rain will stop long enough for me to drag my sick ass out to enjoy the Hoboken Artist’s Studio Tour.