I have never had much use for Peeps. They are spongy, saccharine and come in colors that never seem to match my outfit. Food that matches my outfit is always a bonus, so I decided to make an outfit out of Peeps in order to get that pastel shade of banana slug yellow just right. In fact, Peeps resemble the banana slug in more than just color. For example, when you squash one, it tends toward the gooey. Both “foods” are considered acceptable to feast upon by the cultures that eat them, yet I am not a member of either of those cultures. Finally, both are very attractive to the toddler set.
Because of the strong parallels between Peeps and banana slugs, I briefly considered fashioning a bikini top out of Peeps and a bottom out of slugs. I even captured a slug to try. I did not bargain on my bleeding heart oozing forth with compassion for the gastropod when I felt his whole body stiffen at the sight of the impending hot glue gun, but ooze it did and so I spared the slug. Instead, I inflicted the torture upon myself. Have you ever taken a hot glue gun to the crotch? I am ok with killing animals for food, and I am a big fan of using the whole thing, offal and all, but, I reasoned with myself, banana slug would not taste good with hot glue smeared down his back.
Yes, I know I killed the Peeps. I forever relegated them to while away eternity in a garment bag mausoleum in my attic, irrevocably-affixed to a threadbare set of Victoria’s Secret bra and panties. I also have no plans to use the whole “animal.” In fact, the Peeps died a tortured death, first branded and blistered by the viscous glue, then smothered by wet grass and my ass during the final Swan Song that was their photographic documentation and video debut. Peeps PETA, I willingly accept any sugar bunny guts you want to throw at me- MARSHMALLOW IS MURDER.
I did, however, carefully entomb them in the garment bag. One day in the distant future, when my soul is long gone but my embalmed body perches on the mantel of my progeny’s progeny so they can dress me up in chartreuse confections of the era complete with a pair of Louboutins for every day of the month, the world will recognize me for the foodie performance artist that I am. They will find the Peeps bikini in someone’s off-planet storage unit, link it to the mad foodista Salty Seattle, and hunt down my progeny to find out more about the woman behind the Peeps and prosciutto.
I am sure of this because Peeps are so clearly laden with immortalizing preservatives; I know the bikini will survive. And I know I will survive- albeit in a mothballed, embalmed state- because I am already impressing-upon my two-year-old the importance of becoming an architect for the sole purpose of keeping the “mantel” alive so that he can build himself one on which to place my delicate, lacquered body.
When the future curators of the past discover the bikini, they will wish to reunite it with its creator. What they will not bargain on, however, is the note they will find carefully-pinned to the back of a single Peep. The note will express my perpetual, unwavering desire to auction off the bikini to the highest bidder, the craziest zillionaire to covet such a strange relic from the past. It will further stipulate that 100% of the proceeds from the sale are to be donated to a charity committed to preserving the art and science of slow, artfully and lovingly-prepared, natural, non-Peepsesque food. You like how I did that? Used Peeps to get the message to the future that Peeps, in fact, suck? I even really drove it home for them by hinting that Peeps are of little value besides adorning ancient bodies and conveying messages from the past.
This, my friends, is my artist statement. This is why I did what I did. I was lucky enough to have the brilliant photographer Jackie Baisa document it. Of course I am not solely fixated upon solving the problems of the future. We also have a problem to solve right now, and that is restructuring Japan after the devastating earthquake and subsequent tsunami that sadly struck the nation. In order to help, I created a project called The Nudie Foodies. If you haven’t heard about it, please go and have a look. There is a little surprise waiting for you there.