*Many thanks to my wonderful mother for indulging my love of tiny things and lending me these itty-bitty tea pots. ;)
When I was a kid, I was always fascinated by anything that looked just like it’s regular sized counterpart, but was a lot tinier. I believe this is referred to as building something on scale. You just take the regular sized item, shrink all of it’s parts equally at the same proportion and out comes a tiny little product that makes you stomp around your 400-square foot apartment like a giant.
Often times, these miniature marvels are referred to as single serving products, even though you almost always have to use more than one to be fully satisfied. Usually, they are intended for people traveling that must limit their toiletry liquids to 2 ounce bottles, lest they be taken in an airport backroom for a full body cavity search. “We know you’ve got another 3 ounces of Pert Plus conditioner on your person. Now, where is it!” The highly skilled airport security agent will scream at you, laughing to his partner as they work you over with their good cop, bad cop interrogation methods. Inevitably, anyone subjected for a long enough period of time to this airport employee, little man syndrome will just sign papers admitting guilt to any number of international crimes. After all, smuggling heat-activated conditioner is big business these days and you just admitted to being a hair-product mule. I knew those fake breasts were filled with jojoba oil! I’ve got an eye for that sort of thing.
But, back to stomping around my apartment chanting, “Fe fi fo fum,” to myself, as I drink from a tiny little tea cup. Tiny tea cups are one of my favorite tiny things, as the handle is SO small that you literally have to hold it up to your lips with nothing more than an index finger and a thumb. Holding a tea cup in this manner will always force you to raise your pinkie out to the side and begin speaking in a English accent. For some reason, when I’m pretending to be a giant, I always develop an English accent. I assume this is because, in my head, giants are always being called upon by the royal monarchy to help assist in battles against boys with sling-shots, monitor bean stock growth and pull down Christmas decorations from the upper chifforobe in December. On second thought, I’m going to stop pretending to be a giant, because I hate getting Christmas decorations down from chiffarobes, attics or warehouse scaffolding.
Even if I’m not going to act like a giant anymore, though, I do love miniature products. This is one of the main reasons that I want to live in a hotel. Hotels have an endless supply of miniature products, especially if you are staying at a really nice hotel. Miniature shampoo, conditioner, hair spray, mouth wash, shaving cream, etc. and let’s not forget the mini-bar, the spokesperson for all products miniature. I suppose if you were staying at a really, really nice hotel (like something in Dubai) you could probably get whatever you wanted in a miniature format. The next time I’m staying at the Burj Al Arab, I’m going to put this to the test. “Yes, concierge? Could you send up a bottle of Veuve Clicquot ’96, a 1969 Volkswagen Bus, an Indian and a cupboard? And yes, I’d like all of them at 1:100 scale. Thank you.” That’s the beauty of Dubai, rather than roll their eyes at your ridiculous request, they pride themselves in being able to fulfill it to your greatest satisfaction. If you wanted, you could ask them to send up the world’s largest elephant to your room and it would be there in under 20 minutes. But, this post isn’t about giant things (well, except of course when I was stomping around like a giant), it’s about tiny single-serving things that you cram by the dozen into your suitcase upon checkout, because why not?
Yes, I am enamored with miniature products and miniature sporting events (although, I only know of one. I guess miniature shot putting never caught on). But, more than walking into a perfectly lit room, where miniature products are merely a phone call away, it is even more satisfying to watch something take a miniature form right before your very eyes. This is probably why I watched, “Honey, I shrunk the kids” every single day from 1989-1994, I am fascinated by tiny, miniature worlds (and remote control lawn-mowers). My life changed in 1990, when I discovered my very own version of Wayne Szalinski’s shrinking laser; the microwave. When you are obsessed with all things miniature, you have to find some kind of creative outlet to release the energy that your passion gives off. I found my release in empty potato chip bags. The next time you finish eating a single serve bag of potato chips (or really any kind of chips with a foil lining), refrain from tossing the empty wrapper into a waste basket. Instead, put the empty wrapper into the microwave for 15-seconds. The first 5-seconds are pure anticipation, but then in a burst of light, magic happens right before your very eyes! Your empty bag of chips is now exactly at a 1:10 scale of the original bag of chips. Let this cool for 30-seconds, poke a hole in the top and voila! You’ve got yourself the perfect miniature specimen and one hell of a key chain.
Aren’t miniature things fun? ;)
This is part of a series of posts designed to help me figure out who I really am. Got some insight? Leave a comment.
