Freezy Freakies

I hate to kick off my inaugural SMDG post by getting all controversial but I don’t much care for winter.  Sure, the season might conjure up charming images of snow kissed trees, rustic fireplaces, Sonny Bono skiing into a tree.  But no matter how much joy one can derive from sticking carrots into balls of snow, it’s impossible to redeem the moment when the temperature dips low enough that it feels as though you forgot to put on pants.  And, more importantly, hypothermia doesn’t complement my natural skin tone.


Elton John in summer doesn't go with my skin tone, either (source).

Of course, as a child, I hated having to bundle up once late November hit.  I didn’t want to arm myself against the elements so much as complain about them.  Zipping up jackets, wearing mittens, donning ski caps – winter apparel felt so restrictive.  Who wants to be entombed in cotton or Thinsulate?  Nature was trying to straight jacket us all and it had convinced the fashion industry to its bidding (typical move fashion industry, typical move)! 

As a side note, I had deemed scarves my biggest threat.  This is easily attributed to my mother who straddled a very hazy line between parental concern and attempted homicide as she wrapped one around my tender, all too trusting neck (though I did discover some odd comfort in being strangled by lamb’s wool.)  It also didn’t help that ol’ Mom was busy conducting an ongoing, torrid love affair with the turtlenecks from the Land’s End catalog.  Though, perhaps this was her subtle way of teaching me about auto-erotic asphyxiation.
 

However, in the late 80s, a product appeared on the shelves of clothing retailers across the nation.  A product that forced my hand (nailed it!) and caused me to reevaluate my hard-hitting beliefs on outer wear.  I am, of course, referring to Freezy Freakies.  

Kids do love "em", that much cannot be denied (source).

Unlike the pedestrian gloves or mittens of yore, Freezy Freakies didn’t feel like they were simply a cozy Riker’s Island for your hands.  No!  Freezy Freakies tapped into what had clearly been missing from the heretofore contentious glove industry – whimsy.  Finally, a manufacturer with the balls to harness the power of both art and the elements!

Plus, you laugh when kids think these penguins are saying in pidgin English that they are snow.
Who's stupid now, kids??? (source).

For those of you who are unfamiliar (ie people probably born in the 90s and orphans), Freezy Freakies were gloves that revealed “fun,” “hidden” pictures and colors when exposed to cold temps.  Don’t be so quick to dismiss that seemingly sad, solitary Optimus Prime on your best friend’s mitten.  Instead, stand around outside for a good five minutes (you’re kids – you have no pressing business!), stare at his hands and you’ll find yourself handsomely rewarded as Bumblebee slowly reveals himself from behind.  Bonus: Optimus Prime has turned red (but that might be due to the embarrassment of getting caught being sodomized by a fellow Transformer).  



These might be Transmorpher licenses, actually. (source)

Questioning why your classmate would purchase gloves that prominently feature a drab, uninhabited castle that’s likely fallen into foreclosure?  Well you’ll learn a lesson about being so judgmental once that thermometer hits 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Yeah, because all of a sudden that castle is fuchsia and it’s being guarded by fucking penguins (plus if you look really closely you’ll probably see a tiny Hall of Mirrors)!  It’s classic winter fun!

 

Yes, these gloves certainly revolutionized what is arguably the most arduous and interminable of all seasons (And I’m confident they would have made the Battle of Stalingrad more palatable for the soldiers).  Instead of befriending the space heater or actually praying for recess to be cancelled, they made me excited to embrace the outdoors in all its frigid glory.  In retrospect, I can only assume I had some sort of short term memory problem because of course the picture and colors always changed the same way.  Also, you could totally see the outline of the “secret” image. 



These gloves' "secret" image is clearly not washing instructions (source).

Additionally, I vaguely remember that if you were feeling impatient, you could speed up the art and the science through a few strategic licks.  Though, upon reflection, it seems like introducing one’s own hot breath into the mix would actually slow down a process that’s supposedly ignited by the cold.  Perhaps it was any “extreme” change in temperature that caused the transformation.  Or maybe I should have been more discerning about what I licked (see self-diagnosed short term memory problem above).

In the end, I’m sure I probably lost my pair of Freezy Freakies before winter passed.  But I’ll never forget the joy and the hope these gloves provided me.  And I’m certain they temporarily saved me from becoming a seven year old nihilist.

On the left, pink unicorn under magenta sun. On the right g-g-g-g-ghost unicorn! (source)