Blobby Farm is in Indiana--apparently, it's The Crossroads (Of Craftiness) State. The folks there make all sorts of unique plush characters by hand, characters which are all imbued with little profiles of telling personality quirks. Loaf 5 Jr., for example, "is a solid friend with a reliable heart" who's "currently doing Google searches for Umberto Eco." To me, Loaf looks like the hive queen from the end of Starship Troopers. For just $10, I'd be happy either way. They also do mittens and bibs.
Lawyers in Indiana point out that these creatures have not been certified for infant or child use, and so exist solely as art objects--art objects that the Blobby Farmers are constantly giving to their friends' small children.
Blobbies are $25-38, and Blobbies Jr. are $10-15 at Blobby Farm [blobbyfarm.com]
Previously: Sweet Juniper's Merry Indie Christmas list
Blobby Farm was in "In Plush We Trust," an exhibit by Shawnimals, the Ninja guy, at Chicago's Rotofugi.
cute...but not as cute as giant microbes...www.giantmicrobes.com....and they're only $6...
[giant microbes are independent, to be sure, but they're also mass produced and imported. I posted about them here. -ed.]
It's not genius. It's a blob. For $25 have the teenager down the street knit one for you.
[goodness? genius? no one's claiming to save the world here, pal. Just talking about maybe buying one less thing at Target. If you get it from some midwestern art school grads or from your neighbor's totally up to you. -ed.]
But see, I'm all about saving the world. So if I can buy a few trinkets made in Indonesia and help out an economy ravaged by a tsunami, I won't stay up at night worrying about the half of the country which voted for the guy who bungled our own hurricane-induced cataclysm. Our mainstream society rejoices in its own economic peril. Far be it from me to be the party pooper. Opulance for everyone! Except for the poverty-stricken peons who serve us at the big box stores. That's why God put them on earth, to stock the aisles with cheap plastic crap. Hey, why do we have to slide our own credit cards at the check out counter? What's up with that? Remember when the peons did that for us? America ain't like she used to be.
["Post relevant, constructive, and value-adding comments here." Good luck with that. -ed.]