Monday, September 5, 2011
Where the Jackalopes Roam
It's no secret that I love kitsch. After all, I'm the girl that picked which town to study in in Russia based on a ridiculous festival celebrating a vegetable. So when, on a weekend trip to Charleston, South Carolina, I began seeing signs for South of the Border I knew I had to stop. A place that was half astoundingly offensive racism combined delicately with over the top capitalism? It was like a big tacky mothership calling me home.
Luckily for me, I was traveling with my favorite Australian who is always willing to indulge in my ridiculous need to see all things tacky. I'd always heard of South of the Border, but it was even better than I could have possibly imagine.
It is like the epicenter (and after the past week of earthquakes and aftershocks in Virginia, I know all about epicenters) of bizarre and tacky, and I loved every second of it. I'm still not sure which part was my favorite. I have to say that it was hard to ignore the magnetic draw of the random assortment of fake animals that decorated nearly every three feet of pavement, but I was equally drawn to the polite reminder that firearms are not allowed in stores in South of the Border.
However, I have to say that I was most drawn to the famous World of Hats store that occupied much of our time in this magical place.
How can you not love a store where no one blinks an eye at you donning an oversized hat and pretending to shoot a dinosaur that is also wearing a hat?
Exactly. You can't.