Goodbye Rocket, Hello 826

One of the bad things about moving our Seattle retail store to a smaller location is that we had to get rid of some of our larger items. Most of the items that wouldn’t fit moved to our business offices.  As an example, here’s a picture of the “Santa Claus in Dentist Chair with Spider” installation which now resides in front of our filing cabinets.

Santa Claus in Dentist Chair With Cockroach

One of the things that hurt the most was losing our handmade rocket. It was way to big to be in someone’s house and we were afraid that it would have to be recycled. Thankfully, when we offered to donate it to 826 Seattle they accepted.

826 is a great non-profit organization that teaches writing to kids. Also, the entrance to their building is the Greenwood Space Travel Supply Co, a mercantile for all your interstellar needs that helps support their organziation.  It now hangs from the ceiling of their shop and was recently named the “HMS Copernicus’ Ride.”

HMS Copernicus' Ride

826 is always looking for support and volunteers, so if you want to help them with their mission to teach kids creative writing click here for more information.

Beard of Bees Failure

Where would we be without our dreams? All progress is based on coming up with a seemingly impossible idea and then figuring out how to make it reality.

One of our dreams, as a company, was to mass-produce an affordable, well-made, novelty beard of bees. It sounds silly and simple, but the complexities involved eventually caused us to abandon the whole project. In fact, the only existing prototype is in a cardboard box in our archives.

Our first thought was to print the bees on some cloth, but that looked bad. Why bother if it’s going to look fake? What potential mate would see this printed cloth beard of bees and think to themselves, “Wooooeeee! That is one fine looking bee beard”? No one would, so it was abandoned.

Prototype of Beard of Bees

So, we asked for a beard that we could cover with bees. Here is the suggested beard:

Beard and Mustache Disguise - Do Not Dryclean

If you look carefully on the beard package you can see that it says, “Do not dry clean.” This is good advice for facial hair of all types.

Our next step was to develop a realistic looking bee to stick to the hair. Simple enough, we’re experienced in the plastic insect business.

Then, we asked for a sample of them on the beard, but they wouldn’t stick. Instead we were sent what you see below: beard shaped netting with a few bees glued to it. There were three problems with this. First, the beard weighed over two pounds. This may not sound like a lot, but it’s enough to make your face tilt forward while wearing. The second problem was that to get enough bees to make it look realistic it would have had a retail cost of around $60. And lastly, it still didn’t look right. Instead of attracting a potential mate, it would simply confuse them as they tried to figure out why you had a bunch of bees stuck to a net under your chin.

Beard of Bees! - Failure

Eventually, we just used the idea as an April Fool’s day joke.

Yet, we still dream that the world will have an affordable novelty beard of bees. Perhaps, one day, technology will catch up with our imaginations.

Bacon Tuxedo Boys

Bacon Tuxedo - Boys

This beautiful picture from the back of our Bacon Tuxedo Joke Gift Box was too beautiful not to share on its own. Maybe there is hope for the future with children such as these.

History of Archie McPhee

On the occasion of our new location in Wallingford, we thought we’d look back at some of our previous stores.

Archie McPhee's Original Location in the Mid-80s

In 1983 we opened our first  location on upper Fremont Ave next to the Pink ‘N Pretty Beauty Salon in Fremont/Wallingford. This was a store with folding tables and open cardboard boxes full of awesome stuff laid out randomly. As you can see from the signs in the window, our marketing plan could use a little work.

Old Archie McPhee Photo

This second Fremont location on Stone Way is where most people discovered us. This rickety building was crammed full of stuff which we stacked on shelves made of recycled coffin wood. Don’t ask where we got the wood. Even the light switch was a work of art. It was, however, freezing in the winter and oven hot in the summer.

Front of Ballard Location

Then in 1999 we moved to a larger, more modern building in Ballard. Originally a Food Giant supermarket and then a boat shop, the interior had several large garage doors that we covered with stuff to make it look more like home. In 2004 we added More Archie McPhee to accommodate larger items and give us space to grow.

Front of Wallingford Location

When we were no longer able to stay in our Ballard location we searched furiously for a suitable replacement. Thankfully we found it. Our new Wallingford location puts us in the middle of a busy urban area that seems to be a perfect fit for our particular sensibility. And our first customer, Nate, proved that people are still willing to buy things even though we’re in Wallingford. Excelsior!

Side of New Wallingford Location

You can see more of our new store and our history on Flickr.

The Last Rubber Chicken in Ballard

The Last Rubber Chicken In Ballard

After 10-1/2 years, at 3:37 p.m., on May 31, 2009, the last Rubber Chicken at the Ballard Archie McPhee store was photographed, tagged and taken away.

the Devil moves to Wallingford

The floors were swept, the cornucopia of stuff hanging from the ceiling taken down and the giant devil head transported eastward in the back of a pickup truck beneath strangely sunny skies.

The Roman gladiator, our guardian, was carefully moved and the private museum of bad art (paintings of big-eyed children and garage sale macrame) that decorated the employee bathroom was dismantled and put in storage, pending final negotiations for transfer to the Smithsonian.

Computers unplugged, phones disconnected and final readings for power, gas and water were made.

At 3:37 p.m. I said, “Shut her down, Shana.” Click, click, click, went the lights for the last time. And it was done. Darkness comes to Ballard. And we are gone.

Thanks to all our loyal friends and fans and the Jacobsen family, for letting us be our eccentric selves on the west end of NW Market St. the past 10-1/2 years — seven days a week, seeing people come in grumpy or stressed and seeing most people leave happy. It is what we do here, our simple purpose in a crazy world.

Thanks to all for spending some of your hard earned money with us, for getting our jokes and giving us meaning in our lives!

Now it’s on to Wallingford and a new saga starting at 9 a.m. Monday morning!

Mark

Archie neon sign comes down

Click here to take a look at our new Wallingford location.

Failed Product Sample - Shamrock Skull

Shamrock Skull

We love when factories send us samples of things they think we’ll like. For instance, this festive Shamrock Skull which we assume was designed to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. The festive green and shamrock on the forehead would surely please anyone looking to celebrate their Irish heritage.

We won’t be carrying it.

New Engrish

Engrish Bento Box
Engrish Bento Box

This is some of the most poetic Engrish ever. Found on a Bento Box sample.

“Regardless the timespace how to change the, the of the crystal, the whole life is constant.

New Funny Or Not Funny With Nai!

Nai promised that if we hit 795 views on the first episode of his series, he’d do a second episode. Well, here it is! You can watch the first episode here.

If this one gets 1,032 views, he may do a third.

Zombie Mints and Possible Time Travel Problem

Gibson of the past, meet now Gibson

 

While searching for an image to use on our Zombie Mints tin in an old French anatomical book, Matt was shocked to find the drawing above.  It looks just like our co-worker Gibson Holub. At first we all thought it was funny, but after watching the last season of Lost, we have a new theory. We think that this drawing, done in France in 1865, is incontrovertible proof that Gibson is about to travel back in time, join the Dharma initiative and then die for reasons that won’t be explained until next season. 

You have to admit, it is creepy to find a drawing of yourself with your brains exposed. 

Interview with Kirk Demarais, Author of Life of the Party

S.S. Adams, now owned by Magic Makers, was the original American novelty company. For their 100th anniversary, they released a pictoral history of their products called, Life of the Party. Kirk Demarais, the author, agreed to answer a few of our questions. Kirk is not just an author, he’s also an ace designer and the blog-master of Secret Fun Blog. When J.J. Abrams was recently asked to name his top ten most wired things for Wired Magazine, Kirk’s book was number one!

So Kirk, what got you into novelties? Was it a particular toy or memory?

I’ve had a raging affinity for toys since early childhood, from Fisher-Price to Weebles to Star Wars and so on. My introduction to the novelty world came at age four when my uncle took my family to the House of Magic at Walt Disney World where I scored a King Tut Magic Mummy trick and my first Beagle Puss (a.k.a. the Groucho disguise.)

I graduated to pranks in second grade when my buddy brought an S.S. Adams Snake Nut Can to class. I’d been coveting these things in the comic book novelty ads for ages, and suddenly the gap between me and the impervious mail order world had closed. The gag was so intriguing because it was fun like a toy and yet something about that metal can with its serious graphics and the unforgiving snake made it seem so grown up. I was also fascinated by the notion of a store-bought product that was produced solely for the sake of deception. You could terrify your friends and family… and that was the whole point! The next weekend I talked my dad into a trip to the local novelty shop for a can of my own. It was there that I discovered a whole line of Adams products. A reputable company that endorsed and promoted mischief— this was truly a novel concept.

How did you become a collector?

When I was eleven I bought a small package of old plastic trinkets at a yard sale for fifty cents. The miniatures were similar to the ones I’d always found in gumball machines, but these were from a series called Goofy Gifts, which were packaged on a card that featured this stunning 1950s style illustration of a scientist. I valued the artwork so much that I couldn’t bring myself to tear it open and play with the trinkets; so I displayed it on my shelf. I consider it to be my first collectible.

I didn’t start amassing pranks until I was a teenager. I’d always dreamt of being a master prankster, going everywhere with a concealed arsenal of gags under my jacket, equipped for any situation. There’s a scene in Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure when Mr. Herman makes a routine stop at a prank and magic shop where he stocks up on what he calls “supplies.” The shopkeeper knows Pee-Wee by name and he obviously burns through a reserve of tricks on a weekly basis. I wanted that. So I eventually started buying tricks whenever I could get my hands on them, mostly during vacations at tacky tourist destinations. At some point I realized that I preferred admiring joke items to actually using them.

How did you get involved with S.S. Adams?

As a kid my enthusiasm for pranks was matched by my passion for drawing, so naturally I started putting gags in my artwork…

This is my childhood version of a prank catalog…

(I prefer not to speculate on what that hairy blob is supposed to be.)

In the mid 1990s when I first got access to the program PhotoShop I asked myself what my dream design job would be, and working on a novelty catalog was the obvious choice. So in order to learn the program I assigned myself a layout for a faux S.S. Adams catalog page. The result was this now-shameful piece…

(It should be noted that two of those items weren’t even produced by Adams.)

By 2003 I was actually getting paid to design, but not by a novelty company. In fact, I often gave on-the-job soliloquies to my coworkers on how I would go about redesigning the S.S. Adams product packaging.

By then I had also become an expert in the art of Ebay. One of my triumphant auctions involved a set of vintage S.S. Adams display cards. When I got the invoice from the seller I noticed that he was Christian Adams from New Jersey. Chris confirmed my suspicion that he was indeed a member of the royal family of novelties (Samuel Sorenson’s grandson) and the current owner of the business. He had no choice but to become my pen pal.

The following year I mailed Chris a DVD of a short film (Flip) my friends and I created because we had used some vintage Adams product to dress the sets. I don’t know if he cared for the film or not, but he saw that I had designed the DVD cover…

And he asked me if I would be interested in doing some work for them. When I got the news I looked exactly like the victim in the Joy Buzzer ads. My feet flew up behind my head and my entire body violently convulsed.

Incredibly, my first assignment was a destiny-fulfilling catalog cover…

I went on to give them their first package redesign in decades…

And as if all that wasn’t dream-like enough, one of my cover illustrations was adapted as a prop in the recent version of the movie Hairspray

When all of this happened I was living in a tiny Arkansas town with relatively little design experience. Even after I’d crossed paths with Chris I never expressed my secret life-long wishes to create for his company. In case it isn’t clear by now—I didn’t just get involved with them, I was custom made to work for the S.S. Adams prank and magic company.

How did the book come about?

The manifestation of Life of the Party is just as miraculous as the rest of my Adams story. In the days when my relationship with Adams was merely a wild fantasy I purchased a copy of Chip Kidd’s Batman Collected book and decided that it was the greatest collectibles book ever conceived by man in both form and content. (This was obviously prior to the Archie McPhee Who Would Buy This? book.) My next thought was that commercial pranks and magic deserved the same treatment.

But by the time I started working for Adams two books had come out on the subject of novelties; one was on Adams specifically. (They were S.S. Adams, High Priest of Pranks and Merchant of Magic by William Rauscher and Mark Newgarden’s Cheap Laffs: The Art of the Novelty Item.) This shot holes in my aspiration and I never saw any point in pitching my book concept. That’s why I was floored when Adams co-owner David Haversat asked me if I’d consider doing a visual history book to celebrate their centennial anniversary. I remain astonished.

More than a year later as I was putting the finishing touches on Life of the Party, in a moment of pure full-circleness, I got a surprise email from Chip Kidd. His unsolicited message contained a wonderful blurb for my book! It so happened that his good friend and legendary graphic novelist Chris Ware (who had generously contributed the foreword) had passed the layouts on to him completely unaware that Chip’s book was the very one I was ripping of— I mean- was my inspiration.

My favorite story from the book is the discovery of sneezing powder. Could you tell it?

Cachoo sneezing powder was the first product Adams offered. S.S. discovered it while working for a company that sold coal-tar derivative. The outfit spent big money to extract an undesirable ingredient called Dianisidine from their product. Dianisidine was troublesome because it caused massive sneezing for anyone who worked near it. S.S. found that just a tiny pinch of the potent powder could turn a large room into a sneezing riot. In the 1940s, decades after Adams had built an empire on this bi-product, the FDA stepped in and banned it. Around this time, the Germans were adopting it as a chemical weapon. They poured it into shrapnel shells and fired it at the French, but its use was discontinued because “it has only limited ability to create casualties on the battlefield…” (quoting Chemical and Biological Warfare by Eric Croddy) Thus the unsavory ingredient in sneezing powder was eventually replaced with finely ground pepper.

 

 

Is there a holy grail of novelties that you haven’t found?

Thanks to ebay I keep having to come up with new holy grails. In the past there were things like The Weebles Haunted House, the S.S. Adams Life of the Party joke set, and the original pair of X-Ray Spex (with plastic frames).

Right now it would have to be the U-Control Ghost that was sold by Johnson Smith and Co. It consisted of a balloon, some string, stick-on eyes and a sheet of plastic that looked suspiciously like a trash bag. Countless kids were suckered into buying them, but for obvious reasons, nobody seemed to keep them. If anyone can direct me to one, please do! It’s okay if it’s not for sale; I just want to marvel at it.

What product do you think has the largest gap between the promise of the comic book advertisement and what you actually get?

Most any of the giant monster items that were hawked in comic book ads. There’s the U-Control Ghost I mentioned earlier and then there’s the Life Size Monsters that were offered by the Honor House Corporation. The ad for those specifically cited “durable polyethelene” which really misled boys into expecting a huge action figure, but in truth they were posters printed on sheets of plastic. There was also a crop of giant monsters and dinosaurs that turned out to be balloons.

Was there ever a safety issue with an Adams product that got hushed up?


From what I understand, there’s never been an involuntary product recall (heh, aside from the whole FDA sneezing powder thing. Oh, and the same thing happened with itching powder.) Their relatively clean record is especially remarkable considering some of their long gone products like the Bending Knife which was a knife with a hidden hinge where the blade meets the handle (constructed from a genuine steak knives no less), and the Auto Bomb which was a pyrotechnic device that was wired to the victim’s car battery which emitted smoke followed by an explosion.