Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Bumper sticker belief systems

Last night, I sold the first of my new "Read a Fucking Book" charm necklaces on Etsy. I'm not sure why it took me so long to make this particular charm (disorganization? overwhelm? so many fucking ways to say fuck, so little time?) but I am so glad I finally did.
Read a Fucking Book charm necklace. By FYeahJewelry on Etsy.

"Read a Fucking Book" was the first bumper I ever purchased. Well, that and "This bike is a pipe bomb." I got both at a little shop in Hood River, Oregon. I'm actually anti-bumper sticker. Call me paranoid, but I don't really want to give someone a reason to rear-end me.* So, as much as I fucking loved my bumper stickers, there was no way I was going to put one on my car (although I put the pipe bomb one on my mountain bike, where it confuses people to this day.) I put it on the inside of a little storage locker where I stored my gloves and other gear.

I think this is the *exact* sticker I bought! It is still available.
However, I don't think I hid it out of shyness. I hid it away because it was for my amusement only. I didn't care if anyone else saw it or liked it, and I really didn't want to have to defend it to the purity police or profanity patrol. **

I still feel this way today about my jewelry. Although I fucking love it, and I love that other people love it, it isn't about making sure everyone notices my beliefs and plastering it in giant type across the surface of my vehicle, or t-shirt. My charms are kind of like an inside joke. It is not about changing anyone else. It is just having the confidence to do or say or wear what makes you fucking happy, and sharing it with the people you know will appreciate it too.

Read a Fucking Book continues to make me happy. The book I'm currently reading is The Tent, by Margaret Atwood. She's fucking brilliant.

*I'm probably projecting here. I'm sure I'm the only one in the world who has ever felt a surge of rage upon reading some asshole's loud, obnoxious, vinyl philosophy of why said asshole rules the world, as that asshole nearly runs little law-abiding you off the road. Yep, I'm the only one ever.

**I'm not even sure who my imaginary authority figures are, but I envision them as mice riding around in a tiny police car, complete with flashing blue lights and a speaker that projects Morgan Freeman's most serious tone of voice.