Are those pink flamingos, I thought incredulously as I noticed boxes of the plastic creatures stuffed into large cardboard boxes under the auction table. And indeed, they were.
I’d never seen flamingos by the half-dozens in boxes before, but I’d seen my share of them both on lawns as ornaments and at Busch Gardens for gawking when I lived in Tampa, FL, years ago. Then, as now, they are the epitome of tackiness that many of us delight in making fun of. In fact, we pity the fool who has them on their lawns for their lack of good taste.
Here at the auction, there were more than anyone would want to see, their pinkness the only thing visible through openings in the boxes. They were identified on the boxes in English and French. These appeared to be cheap knockoffs by a company named TPI Plastics of Canada.
Seeing them, though, did get me to wondering about how these lawn ornaments came into being. Who on earth decided to make plastic versions of the coral-winged birds that are synonymous with the Sunshine State?
More so than the birds, the history, I found, was quite interesting. The plastic replicas were not born in Florida and they did not start out as a joke. Sculptor Don Featherstone was working for a plastics company in Leominster, MA, when he was told to design a flamingo figure. Using a National Geographic photo spread of flamingos as his model (there were no live ones around), he spent two weeks creating a clay replica of the bird.
Featherstone designed the figure in 1957, and the pink plastic bird – made in both a popular color and material – went on sale a year later. He named it Phoenicopterus ruber plasticus (the scientific name for the American flamingo is Phoenicopterus ruber). The birds became very popular: People could pick them up at their local store, he noted in a Smithsonian article, to transform their lawns from drab to tropical. Or they could buy them in the Sears catalog for $2.76 a pair. The birds are typically sold in pairs, one with its head up and the other with its head down as if it’s feeding.
“We always said plastic brought poor taste to the poor people,” Featherstone said in an NPR interview in 2006. “‘Cause now you can pick it up, swing it under your arm, take it home and stick it out for less than ten bucks and have tropical elegance.”
In the 1960s, people started eschewing plastics and the birds lost most of their appeal. Artist Andy Warhol thought them worthy of immortalizing as art, and director John Walters highlighted their crassness in his 1972 movie “Pink Flamingos.”
“People thought that they were actual attractive decorations for their lawns. It was only after the snobs among us decided that this was a sign of bad taste, and then we had cities ban them,” noted Tom Herzing, co-author of a book with Featherstone titled “The Original Pink Flamingos: Splendor on the Grass,” in an interview with NPR.
The flamingo was not Featherstone’s first sculpture for the company. He was hired soon after graduating from the Worcester Art Museum school in Massachusetts by Union Products to create three-dimensional figures. It was not considered a noble career for a true artist, but it was better than being a starving artist, he figured.
Among his first creations was a duck. It was easy to find a live model, which he kept in his sink and named Charlie as he sculpted it. He later released it at a local park.
Next came the flamingo, which catapulted him into history and it onto lawns. Over the years, Featherstone is said to have designed 750 items for the company. Early on, he signed the flamingos. He and his wife – who dressed alike for years in outfits that she made – kept many of them in their yard. Featherstone died last month at age 79.
Featherstone eventually became president of the company, retiring around 2000, and it closed in 2006. The molds for the flamingo were sold to another company that continues to produce them. You can buy not only the flamingos but also the stick legs.
The iconic bird has staying power, with more than 20 million said to have been sold over the past 58 years. Despite its image, it has a way of winning you over, even if you wouldn’t put one on your lawn. With a name and a face behind it, maybe I’ll even give it a little respect.