THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, September 16, 1994 TAG: 9409150042
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Jennifer Dziura
LENGTH: Medium: 83 lines
``THAT'S REPUGNANT,'' said Trey Faison, a senior at Cox High School, commenting on a large chunk of green, glittery sand that had been fashioned in the shape of a castle. Indeed, the castle-object was repugnant. It was also sitting in a souvenir shop on the Oceanfront.
A recent newspaper article reported that business in Oceanfront shops dropped 8 percent to 20 percent in the past months. Some blamed July's rainy weather for the loss in revenues, and one shop owner attributed it to the failure of the police to crack down on such behavior as ``urinating in public and making obscene remarks.''
Such acts could spoil the shopping ambience, but I suspect other reasons contributed to tourists' refusal to spend perfectly legitimate American dollars at the Oceanfront.
For this reason, I made it my mission to trek to the Oceanfront and personally examine the merchandise that tourist types are refusing to purchase. I present you my findings, otherwise know as the ``Ten Tackiest Souvenirs at the Oceanfront.'' They are as follows:
``Oh, this is always attractive,'' said Trey, my companion in this minor adventure. ``Shell people.'' The item he referred to was a female figurine fashioned from seashells and glue by some impoverished worker in some equally impoverished nation. The figurine sported a fetching straw hat ornamented with little hoop earrings, presumably because the shell-woman's puny head was without ears.
The Oceanfront shopping area also offered Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fashioned from green-painted shells and a seashell Santa Claus sporting visible nose glue.
A favorite of the beer hat crowd, the bikini toothpick holder finds its rightful place in the ``Ten Tackiest Souvenirs'' list. It consists of a hollow, bikini-clad woman's torso fashioned from porcelain and sporting a fetching ``Virginia Beach'' logo on her abdomen. This item raises the important ethical question of whether it is appropriate to refer to the disembodied torso with the pronoun ``her,'' as opposed to merely ``its.''
The plastic spear sold on the strip requires no assembly and, in fact, has no functional use, as its point is fashioned from cardboard. The brightly colored feathers are a nice touch, though. They remind me so much of Virginia Beach.
Neon-painted seashells take No. 4 on the list. The really sad thing is that, at this very moment, some little kid is probably taking a neon-orange conch shell back to Nebraska.
``Excuse me,'' said Trey. ``How many palm trees do we have in Virginia Beach?'' Regardless of Virginia Beach's stultifying lack of them, some not-quite-astrophysicist has decided to market Virginia Beach magnets emblazoned with neon palm trees.
Glittery, unnaturally colored sand dollars on pedestals defy description. They belong on the bathroom counter right next to the plastic flowers, the sparkly sand castle and the extra roll of toilet paper wearing its own little yarn hat.
Another creation of the palm tree genre is the tropical fish picture frame made in Taiwan. ``This,'' said Trey, ``says Virginia Beach to me.''
One Oceanfront store sported a long row of T-shirts, each sporting the legend ``Virginia Beach,'' along with a picture of a breed of dog, such as the Pomeranian, the Pekingese or the keeshond. Perhaps the city is secretly donating revenues to a keeshond obedience school fund.
The mermaid mug, at first, doesn't seem as reprehensible as the other merchandise, although the three-dimensional mermaid partially protruding from the mug looks like Ariel's evil sister on crack. Trey, however, put the cup in perspective. ``Can you imagine, like, coffee in this?'' he asked.
Last on the list is the plastic Virginia Beach tambourine. Had it not been for one minor discrepancy, I would have looked over the item with mild disgust and gone my merry way. The tambourine, however, featured a group of lovely pink flamingos, which, last I checked, are not quite native to this area.
And thus, I conclude, it's not public obscenity that's depressing Oceanfront sales, but an overabundance of seashell people and their equivalent. MEMO: Jennifer Dziura is a junior at Cox High School. Her column appears
bimonthly. If you'd like to comment on her column, call INFOLINE at
640-5555 and enter category 6778 or write to her at 4565 Virginia Beach
Blvd., Virginia Beach, Va. 23462
by CNB