Kitsch 

There’s always someone who has to sell it and someone to buy it. I’m talking about kitschy stuff.


We travelled to Vancouver Island to visit my mother.  We left early from our home in order to catch the first ferry.  Made it on with 15 minutes to spare.  Score!  BC Ferries sells Kitsch with Canada and BC Ferries plastered all over their products at jacked up prices.  I have zero desire to spend more money than I have to to take the vessel on an hour and forty minute boat ride.  In fact, this trip I chose to stay on the vehicle deck and nap with my dog in the car.  This proved to be both good and bad.  By the end, my allergies were in full force and I was miserable.  Back to blogging about Kitsch.  


We got off the ferry and drove for about forty minutes and hit a little town called “Coombs”.  It’s a BC landmark.  Really.  Known for one thing.  Goats on a roof.


This little shop has expanded the town into more of these unique stores.  All specializing in selling Kitschy Junk.  Stuff that you see and say, “This would be the perfect gift for so-and-so.”  You spend the money leave the store and as soon as you hit the road, you regret the purchase. But now you are committed to giving this crap to your family/friend or coworker.

It’s just stuff.


What do you do when you are given Kitsch?  You say thank you.  If a family member gave it to you, you are forced to keep it and show it off when they stop by.  “I totally love it.  Everyone who sees it says how unique it is.” Loosely translated, “It’s a piece of crap that clashes with the rest of my home, but you seem to think it’s what I wanted.”  Kids giving gifts to parents and grandparents are prime examples.  

Stopping at my mother’s home, I see it everywhere.  Gramma likes dolphins about as much as a preteen girl it seems.

My mother has more stuff scattered throughout her home.  Many are gifts from people she knows.  Bought (or made) from local shops and artists.  She appreciates everything she has been given.


In the right setting, the Kitsch falls under unique and one of a kind.  But more often then not, it shows up in a donation bin or garage sale.  Stop the Kitsch!  Our landfills will thank you.  But hey, here’s the new sticker for my car:

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