I think everyone must have vague memories 0f these colorful ceramic poodles decorated with clay spaghetti to represent curly fur. Of course, these could be repressed memories; think back to visits to your grandmother’s or that ancient great-aunt’s house. The spaghetti poodles would be sitting on a mirror or an end table in the living room. Occasionally, they would decorate a boudoir or bathroom; btw, the word “decorate” is used loosely here.
In the 1950’s and 60’s there was a craze for poodles in general, which was carried over to the decorative arts, so to speak. I can remember being in love with the flocked poodles that adorned our bathroom wallpaper. I have a plastic poodle mirror, a carnival glass poodle powder box, vintage poodle jewelry, poodle linen dish towels, and poodle stuffed toys. Pretty much you name it, there was a poodle version. Hmm … this could be a future post, all the poodle collectibles together, bwah-ha-ha. The post would probably have to have a warning label, so folks could save themselves 😉
But to get back on track, today’s post is just about spaghetti art ware poodles. Did you know that someone wrote a book about this subject? I know, what are the odds? I just ordered it from Amazon, here’s the link:
Ok, back on track again, where was I? These ceramic poodles came in a variety of colors, poses, and with various “friends” attached to them with small chains. Those are my favorites–sort of vintage Japanese bondage, but innocent and decorative. I even have a collection of the “friends” chained together, but missing the main, most important poodle. I just group them with others of the same color; they are orphans after all and deserve our pity. As for why I collect them, well, that there is a key question.
Growing up, our family dog was a wonderful, playful, adorable poodle named Gigi (of course). Just throw all your preconceived notions about poodles right out the window. She was a great kid’s dog who loved nothing better than to run along with your bike, or perhaps ride in the basket. So I’m predisposed to like poodles. But as decorations they have a fascination that has nothing to do with happy childhood memories. It could be that they are just such ridiculous, unlikely objects; honestly, why decorate with poodles of all things? Couple that with their little hand-painted faces showing a wide variety of expressions, and hey presto it’s no longer a mystery why I collect them.
Enough nattering, here are some pics of my spaghetti poodles, their friends, and maybe a few innocent bystander poodles:
Just for fun you should look at some of the expressions on these poodles faces. They range from flirtatious, to foolish, to downright snarky! Plus you can see some of those orphans I was talking about; usually the poodles came with 2-3 “children”.
Here is a picture the only blue spaghetti poodle set I’ve seen–of course I bought it!!
While these aren’t technically spaghetti poodles, they are part of the chain gang, with their non-dog (some call them humans) attachments:
I can see that I’m getting really carried away here, but there are a few more types of spaghetti poodles that need to be documented for completeness:
Two less typical variants:
As you can see, there are spaghetti poodles to fit just about everyone’s sensibility. I bet you’re asking yourself right now why you don’t collect them. Just so you know, they can be found at fine thrift stores or garage sales near you!