Scary Rabbits

Well, sweetses, this has been one hectic month.

I’ve been thinking about this city I live in. Maybe you’ve heard about San Francisco's Mayor Gavin Newsom, with his velveteen hair? Scandalous!

And I have moved into a straightish neighborhood swarming with young Caucasian men who are fifteen years younger than I. My 'hood is chock full of junkies and astoundingly stupid (judging from theif cell phone conversations) college kids who like to drink booze in sports bars disguised as Irish bars, and prefect healthy couples walking perfect healthy dogs with silken hair. I have no idea what to make of all this, but I hope the little businesses in the neighborhood are thriving.

There are places I’d go just because of the incredible window displays. Such as the window at Grin And Wear It on 735 Haight. They have a ten-foot tall window with the most amazing Easter display featuring three life-size mannequins in costume.



The mannequin to the far left stands by himself, for he’s the silent type you’ve seen in old Westerns, a philosopher with a creed. His torso is encased in orange felt. From the orange felt body emerge the legs, arms, and face of the wearer, a painted model wearing fishnets and a rubber half-mask that has one large, yellow eye embedded in the forehead. At first I thought he was supposed to look like a habanero pepper – but that would be illogical, given the context. No, this, my friends, is not a pepper, but a carrot.



To the right of the carrot man are two mannequins in furry rabbit outfits. As you may or may not know, I’m a fan of scary rabbits, which have been underutilized (my New Future Husband, David Lynch, uses them in Inland Empire, and you’ve seen Donny Darko and Sexy Beat, yes?). One of the rabbits in the window I’m describing wears a pink costume, and the most terrifying thing about him is his stance: his hands rest on his coquettishly cocked hips while he grins down at the viewer with an expression both cruel and joyous. Really, he’s posing much too realistically, and it’s the juxtaposition of the real and the fake that frightens me. I’d rather not know what's making him so happy, as I’m sure it’s heinous.



The other rabbit has wide eyes, long lashes, and buck teeth. This rabbit’s head is something you might have seen when you were a young child, watching a parade. Psychologically damaging, a source of phobias and recurring nightmares, each of us has an image we'll never shake. The rabbit in the display holds one of the crepe paper flowers that graces the land of this window, enormous things with rubber Dick Cheney masks at their centers.



Suspended above the rabbits is a lacy parasol, and you might have noticed the wires? You can't see this in the pictures I took, but flashes of light shoot through the wires, creating a lightning storm effect.

I only wish that from my own window I could watch this display change and evolve. But I guess it's good for me to get out on the street and photograph things at night while angry homeless men brush up against me, mumbling veiled threats. At times like these, I start to think that these beautiful windows were decorated just for me, and then I feel less alone in the city, and more priveleged. Because it's nice to know that someone out there shares my nightmares.