MY POSTER PAST :: part 10

This series has been a wonderfully evocative journey for me personally - uniting all these striking, familiar images is nearly like my life flashing before my eyes. But as I've asserted time and again, nostalgia is nontransferable; you may enjoy the artwork but unless you've stared at that particular glamour shot of the Batmobile for the entirety of your formative years then you may not have the same feels as I as you gaze upon it. Fortunately for you, dear readers, some of these posters come with a story (or at least some kinda explanation) and for this set I've found a few peculiarities that come with a legit "lemme explain...". As for the rest, you'll just have to attempt to enjoy them on as many levels as I do. 

- Paul

Punch-Drunk Love

My sister got me this for Christmas in 2002 and that was the last day it looked this nice. I immediately placed it in a cheap plastic frame which caused excessive waves of wrinkles to the point that it was painful to look at (which sucks for wall art). It met its ultimate fate as it hung in my short-lived basement bedroom; the plexiglass became coated in soot generated by an antique oil furnace, and the poster itself never fully recovered from an isolated ceiling leak. That's that, mattress man.

Nice Jeans!

I don't know where I bought this or when, and even in the moment I didn't even really know why. I mean I kinda know why - the irony of dumb humor dorm room pinups was never lost on me (nor was the appeal of the pinups themselves) but this one hung behind a door which was usually a sentence of banishment.

Joey

I didn't watch Dawson's Creek. I've never seen a minute of Dawson's Creek. I wasn't even really that into Katie Holmes, but I came across this for 90% off regular retail when my go-to poster store was going out of business in the early 2000s. I acquired it for pennies and helped it to realize its full potential: I bought a 12x16 frame - just big enough to fit her eyes, nose, and mouth, cut the poster to size, and encapsulated her unsettlingly sensuous WB face - making it just weird enough to be worthy. 

Happy, Happy! Joy, Joy!

For a show full of crazy shapes and sounds and colors, I loved and continued to love the quiet elegance of this stark white atmosphere - it's like a t-shirt but better. Though I will say that tall, serif "Happy, Happy! Joy, Joy!" typeface is more 1992 than powdered toast and Crystal Pepsi combined. 

Edward Scissorhands VHS

The months between the end of the theatrical run and the home video release of this movie was like a prison sentence: "How am I to live in a world with no way of watching Edward Scissorhands on any format??" In the Spring of '91 I was already aware of its impending June 27 VHS street date, but it was still like an electric rainbow explosion the day my mother and I drove past a video store (because they were that common) and we spotted this beauty in the window. Without any exchange of words my mom turned around and pulled into the parking lot - her plan was to send me in alone to ask for the poster because there was a better chance of them not saying no to an 8-year-old. But they did say no, and while I maintained a brave face in the moment, I went back out to the car in tears. The video store employee must've watched from the window as my mother consoled me because he came out and agreed to put my name and number on the back of the poster and call me when they were through with it. (I would take advantage of this arrangement with several other posters at several other video stores over the years.)

MY POSTER PAST :: part 9

Good morning, class. Today we will be discussing O.S.P. Publishing, Inc. - the company responsible for most of the visual components of my childhood and yours. 

From what I know (which is severely limited), O.S.P. was in business from the late 1980s to the late 1990s, and they manufactured "paper goods and printed material" - most specifically "posters, calendars, children's novelty identification cards (which you can read about here) and bookmarks." Today, I'm just here about the posters, as O.S.P. (One Stop Posters) were one of the leading brand names in Commercial Posters (which just means posters that are manufactured and distributed for decorative purposes, which is largely the only kind I've discussed in this series). Sometimes they were sold ready for display in a cheap gold frame, under plexiglass (you could typically win these at a carnival) but the kind I knew and loved best came tightly rolled in a cellophane wrapper and sold in the same department store where I got my toys and clothes. That and the record stores were this company's stamping grounds and as far as I know they did well. 

Outside of the rockstars and pinups and athletes, they sold movie posters - but it went beyond that; they didn't just release the standard theatrical one-sheet, they turned it into a collector's game, utilizing publicity stills to offer a whole environment of Batman, Batman Returns, Batman Forever, Jurassic Park, Dracula, Terminator 2, and all that which ensconced my bedroom in millennial nostalgia to the point of claustrophobia. Even when I briefly switched over to the bikini babes when I was 10/11 my surroundings became a shrine of O.S.P. T&A. 

They also had the Disney license. 

If you had or saw any Disney related wall art in stores or in homes around this time then it was likely printed by O.S.P. From the cradle to the dorm this company decorated our world at a time when clearly we wanted decoration. I can't be too sure as to whether or not this is just one of those instances where I aged out and I'm no longer in the loop but I feel like commercial posters are no longer a thing for common folk. O.S.P. Publishing and the store in the mall where I bought most of my posters in the 1990s both went out of business within a couple of years of each other, right at the beginning of the new century. But that's another conundrum: I don't usually see posters for sale in stores anymore, and that's largely because I don't see stores anymore. 

When I was a kid it was common for grownups to have "a coupla paintings from Sears" around the house - now there's no more Sears and the commercial art aesthetic is either banal aphorisms painted onto wood, or, nothing. Nowadays, I suppose, if you want to view a Flemish landscape (or a picture of Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman) you can just look at it on the device in your hand as you sit on the couch in your barren lifeless dwelling. But that harkens back to the old David Lynch adage: I don't think you're really seeing or experiencing art through these means, not to mention a general deprivation of a stimulating environment. It's the same situation as physical media (of all kinds) - people don't want stuff anymore, and I could be an idealist and say that perhaps we've all become more enlightened as we no longer place as much value on material possessions... But I know that's not true and maybe this isn't the right thread for exploring that, but I will say that in the time in which we find ourselves when people are very protective and proud of their own identities one would think they'd wanna celebrate and advertise that - especially with glossy oversized photos of Michael Jordan and Garfield. 

- Paul

MY POSTER PAST :: part 8

I'm bewildered by people who don't hang things on their walls. When I'm in someone's home and I'm faced with bare enclosures I'm overcome with some kinda urgent loss of equilibrium; how does one live or even function in such a vacuous void? I'm pressed to question their mental health, but more often their intelligence - not in an irate manner, but more of a pity approach. Aw, that poor stupid idiot. Or perhaps their minds are filled with such wondrous imagery that they've no need for external stimuli of any kind. They must be the folks who watch movies to "turn their brain off" - their intellectual stamina requires a lotta naps. 

I digress, sorta. Point is, some striking artwork in my everyday field of vision was and is an easy passion to hook into. As noted, we're eight chapters into this exploration and I've barely approached adulthood. And I share these with you not as an invite into my own boring nostalgic recess but mostly as an extra branch of Art Appreciation; outside of symbolic mile markers of whatever I was into at any given time, it's important to note that these masterpieces of mass produced merchandise are still out there - some more easily attainable than others but all readily available for you yourself to own and ogle. Consider this your marketplace of fine art and design. 

- Paul

Madonna

One day, unannounced, a traveling art print vendor set up shop in the lobby of the main building of my college for what seemed to be a single afternoon, and I was lucky enough to be passing by at that right moment.

Madonna's been in the spotlight my entire life. And so, at the age of 20, after two whole decades of being on this planet the same time as her fame, this 24x36 Holy Grail was a well earned reward and a more fitting monument I could not imagine. (Except for my Blank action figure.)

Lord of the Rings

Yeah, I had a Lord of the Rings poster, what. I didn't get it because it was Lord of the Rings - my father had the books but I wasn't gonna read 'em. I wasn't even entirely aware that this was a depiction of any previously published material - the "Lord of the Rings" typeface was so barely legible that I didn't even notice it. This was around my mystical wizards and magic spells period and this detailed illustration spoke to me. I'll tell you, had the movies looked anything like this, I wouldn't be constantly bitching with every breath. 

Consumer Advisory

I was 11 or 12 and was immediately drawn to any image with the most nudity. Unfortunately at this time in history that meant a lotta blondes with fake boobs, which wasn't really the vibe I sought. This one, on the other hand, was such a zenith of smut that I was excitedly embarrassed to own and display it. And because of the angle of the photograph and the anatomical infatuation I share with both Sir Mix-A-Lot and Lt. Vincent Hanna of the LAPD, it became a sort of centerpiece.

Freddie Mercury

Decent Queen posters were a bitch to come by in the early 1990s. However, Freddie's death did prompt some new (though uninspiring) art and I was so desperate I took what I could get. There was a whole wealth of imagery that I wanted so badly to be on a poster (namely the other members of the band) but I was instead cornered into advocating AIDS awareness. Whatever, it was the 90s. 

Playboy

For all the bathing suit cheesecake festooning my chambers, this one held the most intellectually carnal subtext of all the airbrushed T&A in my gallery. Ever since I was conscious of popular culture, this name and logo was (understandably) emblematic of Nudity and Strong Sexual Content. It felt grownup, sophisticated: I don't require actual photographic depictions of breasts when it's explicitly implied by this all-encompassing symbol. It's like the Bat Signal - it lets them know he's out there. 

MY POSTER PAST :: part 7

Every parent needs to ask themselves: is it appropriate or healthy to force your beliefs onto your children? More importantly, is it even ethically sound to make decorating choices for them? There's an unspoken social faux pas: don't ever give wall art to someone because you think they'll like it. Fortunately, even as a baby, I was openly direct and articulate in my interests and my folks were entirely generous and amenable in customizing my environment into a safe and familiar setting. 

For those of you just joining us, this series is a specifically selective archive of the posters I've hung on my wall throughout my lifetime. This entry goes back to the beginning of that lifetime - roughly the first 6 years - and looks at the things that just appeared on my bedroom walls without my consent or even any real consultation at all. And the results were, for the most part, on the mark. 

- Paul

The Wizard of Oz

This sepia tone mini poster hung above my crib for the length of my crib days, and while on the surface you couldn't have picked a more mainstream motif for a 0 year old, I predictably was a fan of the movie. And while there's a charm to these brown, old-timey barroom prints of iconic pop culture, the Land of Oz was eminently the opposite of this; it's a goddamn plot point for chrissakes. 

We Are the World

This wild "cast" photo with graphics that don't match anything from the album or video also hung above my crib and made it to my first big boy bed. But this one had true subjective purpose; as I've detailed here, this song was my first song as it were, alongside the ABCs and the Fraggle Rock theme, and I'm proud that my first "rock poster" included every pop artist of the 1980s. 

Garfield

The trend of "Keep Out" signs and general warnings about boundaries or shamelessly living in squalor seemed really popular when I was young - or maybe they always were, how would I know. What I do know is that I kept a pretty clean living space and I had no need for privacy before puberty. So I don't know how I ended up with this, but I'm sure it's a fine story. 

Ghostbusters

Amazing to me that I actually ended up with an original one-sheet of this - though in hindsight you coulda probably picked these up at any gas station, free with fill up. I'd say it was an underappreciated privilege to live in a time surrounded by accessible 1980s iconography, but then I look around today at the hollow facsimile we've created and I'm like "eh, I'm good." 

I Saved The Princess

This one is the true holy grail - as much back then as it is today. For as much Nintendo merch as they made it was still difficult to get your hands on anything more exciting than a toothbrush or pencil - and even those were exciting. But a poster?! By way of dream and prayer the heavens opened and bestowed upon us this dynamic, colorful, and compositionally awkward wall art depicting the most popular pop art icon of that very brief few minutes. And I didn't appreciate it enough - I was too busy playing Nintendo.

Let's Look At Some Shit : Episode 11

MY POSTER PAST :: part 6

It's been a minute since I revisited this series -- I think it'd gotten to a point where I didn't see any merit or marrow in mining every single Batman, Dracula, and Beatles one-sheet that's hung above my head in my heyday of bedroom decor. (Unless you've been champing at the bit for that kinda content, but y'all've been pretty quiet lately.) And there's certainly a slew of additional bric & brac & odds & ends that I could discuss, but for this segment, we're gonna (mostly) take a look at posters I didn't have...

I wanna show you something called the "Universal Products Poster Gallery" - which clearly was just a quarterly catalogue mailer, and one that I've hung onto for over 25 years.

I sent away for one thing once, and for the next 5 years or so, I got little magazines like this at a rate of roughly one a month... and they meant the world to me. Page after glossy page of t-shirts, hats, furniture, videos, stickers, lava lamps, and various other things that lit up or made sounds or both. These catalogues were hardcore pornography, and I'd study their contents with big eyes and drooly lips. But this particular one that I saved is exclusively posters, and if you haven't already noticed, it's exclusively 1995 (save for The Beatles poster that I circled with a pen, as though that was supposed to magically bring it into my possession).

Funny thing is, while all this material is decidedly dated, the most mid 90s thing here is James Dean and Marilyn Monroe. I don't think I was actually aware enough to determine why they suddenly became wall art superstars 40 years after their prime - but boy were they ever. I'm sure Janet and Madonna were the most tantalizing to this 12-year-old, but if I got to choose one from this set to hang up today, I'm going with Reba.

Cute animals, funny babies, inspirational poems, and slender women in various states of undress; I suppose on some superficial level, some of these are timeless. The Kathy Ireland one was actually my very first pinup (because it was all Kmart had) and I've already told you all about Sandi and how she's Too Hot... I'm just so pleased to welcome her back to the site - let's give her a round of applause.

I suppose page 6 is largely "college humor": a flavor I wasn't really hip to outside of Animal House - I just interpreted them as bad jokes that would get progressively worse the more you had to look at them (and I goddamn looked at my posters all the time). Regarding page 7: 'door posters' can be a beautiful thing - especially when you don't tack 'em to a door -- and it also depends on the art. I actually had that wizard in a full-size 24x36, but wolves and sea life and 1950s Americana were not worthy of this format. 

I had a blacklight poster, and I'll be damned if I can remember what it looked like. What I do remember is that as cool as the effect the light gave off, the bulb gave off about as much heat as a thousand suns, and would predictably melt and destroy any lamp it lived in. That's a nostalgic smell.

Page 10 was and is white noise to me - I barely had enough courage for school, and I rarely ever 'did the Dew.' (Also, in aesthetic terms, they're really awful.) Having said that, page 11 didn't have anything much of interest either: I truly hated Power Rangers, and I certainly wasn't that crazy about Batman Forever either. I'd had enough Marvin the Martian apparel, linens, magnets, and trading cards at that point that I was sick of the image. Rocko was the poor man's Ren & Stimpy. Marvel interested me as much then as it does now. Two things are clear: I was the wrong age for this page, and it suffers from a complete lack of Sandi Korn.

These options were also pretty uninspiring. (I guess looking at it now, that Salt n' Pepa one feels pretty good.) And I suppose like any awkward, chubby, 12-year-old boy, it was a tough pill to swallow to get a sense of what an attractive white guy is supposed to look like in 1995 (not that Brad has exactly hit the wall in his old age).

As I've mentioned, I had that '60 Vette poster - and while I actually did love the car, I felt cool having an automobile pinup in my room. And as far as the other stuff on these pages... I really don't know where to begin. I mean, I guess there's something for everybody here (again, I did have that 'Cosmic Wizard'), but even if that's clearly the case, this is some ugly-ass 90s shit that they obviously dumped into the end of the book.

But I've spoken too soon. There have been tons of fads and gimmicks that have aged gracefully through kitsch or some natural evolution. Thing of it is, 'Magic Eye Art' sucked then as much as it sucks now.

- Paul

MY POSTER PAST :: part 5

It started to be kind of a drag trying to categorize my youth into structured little genres, connecting the dots that're barely there, defining a cohesive thread from one poster to the next... What pretentious crap.
For the most part, I was never seeking out a 'theme' for my walls (Beatles project aside) - prints just kinda came at me, and my interests and obsessions were sprawling enough to accommodate a steady consumption of wall art - resulting in a chaotic collage where the only connection was me.
This is actually kinda freeing & I wish I could apply this level of relaxed discipline to all my lists and stories: Here are 10 random posters from my past.

- Paul

Reservoir Dogs

I'd never waited so anxiously for something to come in the mail (which is a mega statement). I got this in '95 - right at the height of my 15 minute Dogs obsession - a time when merchandise from an ultra-low budget indie was pretty scarce; it was special.
However... It does have a good look; the cheapness of the production and the gritty subject matter kinda match the idea of what looks like black spray paint on a cardboard box. But what the hell, why is Chris Penn suited up like the rest of them (which is who I assumed this photoshopped, disembodied head belonged to). It's dumb, though not nearly as upsetting and frustrating as when I was 12. And don't even get me started on the dickheaded tagline...

Raphael

In 1990, Prints Plus, a nationwide chain (I think) that sold just posters and art prints, opened in my mall.
"Finally! My kinda store!" Even my parents were impressed - we all went down the first day they lifted the gate, and we all managed to find something for ourselves: mine being the most important.
I made a bit of a life decision that day: after years of collecting all the figures and wearing various apparel adorning all four characters, these standalone publicity shots backed me into a corner that I'd already been kinda standing in. My decision had already been made, and without hesitation, I came out publicly regarding which of these Turtle boys was my favorite.

The Blair Witch Project

Cut to ten years later, and Prints Plus is having their "Going Out of Business Sale."
It was sad, but it was okay: my interest in posters started to fall outside of the parameters of Dawson's Creek pinups and what-if depictions of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe hanging out with each other. In other words, the mainstream market had dried up.
Just for the sake of making one last (dirt-cheap) purchase, I found at least one print that was relevant to me. It's not the ugliest thing in the world, but it felt good to represent a flick I loved that everyone else seemed to be against at the time.

Terminator 2

I had the classic, more popular image of Arnie on the bike with "I'M BACK" in big red sans serif font. Even still, I had to have this goofy bit of business too because it was the closest thing to having an Endoskeleton poster that was available -- and that's what I really wanted.

Visitors Map Guide to Jurassic Park

This movie had a series of five or six posters available in stores - like all the best movies did. I'm not sure how many I had, but I sure had to have this one, because it was the only one to feature the Dilophosaurus, who was the coolest character in the film.
The best thing about these posters is that they're just cheap-looking and ugly enough that you could imagine them being for sale in the actual Jurassic Park gift shop. And if I know Steven like you know Steven, that was probably intentional.

Frankenstein

Suncoast Video Store was loud, claustrophobic, and overpriced - they still had some cool shit from time to time though.
I broke my own rule and picked this up without having seen (this version of) the movie. (Truth be told, I didn't see it until October 2018). But this was during the early 90s when Universal Monsters were all taking over the 80s video slasher slots, and I was wicked caught up in it. So anything having to do with any iteration was a must.
It's also one of the absolute few on this continuing list that's still on my wall today.

Beavis and Butt-Head's Room

I'm not sure they were ever as funny as I wanted them to be, and at the time, being surrounded by 5th graders everyday, incessantly peeling off bad impressions forever, didn't help. Still, it felt hip to watch it, and once in a while it could be a lotta fun. I also liked the artwork & they were easy to draw, which made them perfect for poster form.
And while this was not at all a representation of the condition in which I kept my own room, I'd always had fun picking out & studying all the details like a Highlights magazine.

Batman Returns

Ah, here's another monumental series of posters in which I ensconced myself - (it's a fucking Batman movie). Having all of them (except the lone portrait of the Dark Knight himself - I was infinitely more interested in the villains), they created a dark, glossy, gothic contrast across my room that gave me more joy than most other art ever had (or has) given me.

Blondage

The freedom to purchase and display risqué pinups in my bedroom at age 11 admittedly prompted some laughable overkill - which, in turn, spiraled into less discriminating taste: eventually I was just buying what they had. To be totally honest, this poster didn't accurately represent my taste in women (or posters). It's colorful and Summery and timely, but it was a bit of a throwaway.
Though, had I known at the time that these young ladies were real-deal XXX stars, I probably woulda thought it was more badass.

Independence Day

Someday I'm going to discuss in great detail my own complex feelings about this lame duck movie (which is something I'm dying to do). And without a rigid frame of reference, it's hard to talk about exactly why I bought this print, or the feelings it gave me as I gazed upon it in my room. But what it grinds down to is that it's a striking image; it was impressive in the movie, and it makes an impressive poster. And I look at it now with the same thought I had then: I wish the image were from a different, better film.

MY POSTER PAST :: part 4

After however many years of paying homage to film & television, I suddenly had a strong (and somewhat pointless) craving for variety. That added to the fact that they simply weren't making easily available posters for all the movies I wanted to celebrate. So, with this equation, I kept a sharp eye for works of art that were worthy of my sacred walls, and it often proved to hang somewhere between an agonizing struggle and mild complacency; sometimes I found stuff that fit in with my interests, and sometimes I just needed posters - and they qualified.

- Paul

The Scream

No angsty preteen doesn't love "The Scream" - and the print I bought had its own appropriately somber history. Apart from inexplicably being manufactured in black and white, it sat rolled, unopened, and neglected in a corner for some time - long enough for one edge to be chewed on by my dog, which created a fascinating recurring pattern of teeth marks along one side.
This was a tough one to love.

The Alchemist

I was into fantasy stuff for a minute: wizards, dragons, castles - but more for the treasure, skulls, and fire. I even had an extensive collection of pewter figurines depicting such - it was an aesthetic of gothic busyness that appealed to me, and this poster captured a bit of that.
Oddly, my interest in this stuff didn't derive from any film or literature, and to this day I've yet to come across any movies or books that've captured the look that once sparked an interest.

Religious Views of Life

I wasn't raised with any religion in my house, so I was always a bit ignorant to the mechanics and origin stories and rituals. Fortunately, I stumbled upon this ancient scroll that not only summed up the details, but also fit in with the medieval motif I was steering into.
That & it had a buncha swear words on it.

1960 Corvette

For a while there, this particular year/make/model machine kept popping up on my radar (particularly Animal House and True Lies), and while I wasn't particularly into cars at that age (especially not sports cars), I found this particular sports car to be very sexy.
Lo and behold, this ended up being the auto pinup of the mid 90s (and I contributed to that achievement).

Jenny McCarthy

I wasn't entirely aware of Jenny when I bought this masterpiece; I don't know too many 11-year-old boys who gave a shit about Singled Out. But an argument against a naked blonde with pink satin sheets and a smile is an argument you will lose.
Objectification at its purest.