Chestnut is interested in dollhouses. And I admit it: they are cool. There's something compelling about seeing the various things from regular life shrunk down to teeny, tiny size.
Here's what I don't understand: what is the link (if there is one) (and I think there is) between 1) being a girl, 2) passionately loving teeny tiny things, and 3) reading a certain type of book? I don't exactly mean Little Women (ouch! Sorry, too obvious), but, you know, old fashioned books. Here's what I'm talking about.
We went to the crazy dollhouse store on the upper east side. And we saw this:
Or maybe you need more scale, and a clearer sense of what we are talking about:
Yes: Old-fashioned books. And also—well, see for yourself.
I don't want to get all gender-crazy on you, though of course that's sort of what this post is about, but the books, this whole scaled-down aesthetic in general, it all appeals to a certain kind of person. Or maybe I'm wrong? And yes, that is the world's tiniest hamster/guinea pig + cage up there. Because...because this is an obsessive's dream.
But do you see up there? It all comes back to books, I really think it does.
What gives? Is it...the desire for unreality that unites tiny things and books? Is it some vague cutesy aura that hovers over both? Is it about power, and girls think that to do whatever the hell they want they have to make it really, really tiny?
Or is just fun to take a trip to crazytown sometimes?
Welcome to our alternate universe. Would you like a tiny banana? I will go off now to become a giant hand model