I try to collect small, interesting souvenirs. I’ve got quite a few smashed pennies, from the California redwood forests, Haight Ashbury, Disney World, the outer banks of North Carolina, and most recently from Twin Falls, Idaho. Since I’m addicted to knitting, I also like to collect some-assembly-required souvenirs, like the shawl I’ve finally finished knitting out of yarn hand dyed by a woman I met in Vermont. There’s a very interesting yarn shop here in my neighborhood in Portland. At Yarnia, I can choose colors and fibers and have a multi-ply yarn custom blended just for me. I think I’m going to end up with a hat in a few months, made, partly, in Portland.
This week, I came across a new souvenir idea, and one I quite like. The souvenirs would be practical, portable, adorable, quirky, and I wouldn’t have to show them to anybody I didn’t really, really like. They could make sharing a dressing room in a theatre a lot more fun. What’s the idea? See the picture, above. Cute, aren’t they? I picked these up at Portland’s own Voodoo Doughnut, which is famous for unusual flavors (like their maple-bacon bars) and for running afoul of the FDA by mixing doughnuts and drugs to create hangover cures like the Pepto-Bismol doughnut. No, you can’t get a Pepto doughnut there anymore, but you can get souvenir t-shirts with their logos “The magic is in the hole” and “Good things come in pink boxes.” Better yet, since everybody has too many t-shirts with silly sayings, ladies (or anyone who likes to wear bikinis, I suppose) can get their own souvenir, sweets-themed underpants. (Yes, the saying on my panties is about doughnuts. What were you thinking? Sicko.)
I love this idea. I wish I could find souvenir underpants in more places. The only other tourist-trap knickers I recall seeing, so far, were at a seafood restaurant in Baltimore, where I dined on steamed blue crab (a huge novelty to a lifelong Coloradoan like me) five years ago. Their logo went well on panties, too: “Got crabs?” Now I wish I’d bought a pair to add to my collection, and I sincerely hope that I’ll see more fancy panties as I go on with my travels. Surely there will be some Shakespearean knickers at Oregon Shakespeare Festival? I’ll be deeply disappointed if there aren’t. Ole’ Willy has far too many good dirty jokes to waste. And maybe I can get some hipsters that say, “Moab kicked my ass”? We’ll see. I hope I’ll be able to get a week’s worth soon. This is so much more interesting than “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday …”