One of the ways in which salt-and-pepper shaker sets humanize the figures they depict who are not in reality human beings is by means of clothing. They have hats on, or scarves, or shoes. I thought it might be interesting to look at some sets in which that happens, in a series of posts beginning with this one.
And yet: saying it isn’t all that interesting merely confirms how much, based on my past experience of many salt-and-pepper shaker sets, I am taking the oddities of this set for granted–for it is merely odd in the ways that things often and usually tend to be odd in the salt-and-pepper miniverse.
So what is odd about this set, then? Or rather, what is typically odd about it as a set of novelty salt and pepper shakers? Most obviously, in terms of the topic of this series of posts, the pigs are wearing items of human clothing, a hat and scarf in one case, a kerchief and scarf in the other. The kerchief becomes more visible when viewed from a slightly different angel, as here:
Perhaps a little less obviously, these two pigs, somewhat humanized by their headgear and scarves, are nevertheless otherwise unclothed. They have chosen to cover the tops of their heads and their necks, but not all the other regions of their anatomy that, if they were in fact humans, they would surely have seen as a first priority for coverage: for warmth perhaps, or perhaps most humanly, for the sake of modesty. But here these two are, happily showing off their fancy hats and also flaunting the lack of coverage elsewhere.
I took that for granted because it tends to be a convention of “cute” depictions of humanized animals. To cite a popular example: Donald Duck, as usually depicted, wears a hat and a jacket, but no pants. Mickey Mouse, alternately, often wears pants but no shirt. But Paddington the Bear, who is usually seen in a raincoat and a slicker, replicates Unca Donald’s pantlessness:
Why it might seem appropriate and/or cute for animals to walk around dressed partially in human clothing but without any pants on I do not know. Perhaps it implies a theoretically charming kind of innocence, a lack of concern about modesty or conformity. These salt-and-pepper pigs and Donald and Paddington seem quite blithely contented–either unaware of their pantlessness or serenely unconcerned about it. Nor do the pigs particularly seem to need their hats and scarves. I mean, why wear a scarf to keep your neck warm if you don’t care about exposing the rest of yourself to the harsh wind or rain? The scarfs are not for warmth. Indeed, the impracticality of the few items worn seems to suggest a kind of dress-up playacting–an evocation of cute animals as cute kiddies or feckless impractical adults at play. That often seems to be the effect of salt-and-pepper humanizing cuteness. I can easily imagine a set of salt and pepper shakers representing the Biblical lilies of the field, which, Jesus said, neither sow nor spin. and don’t care at all about clothing–in a shaker set depiction, they’d probably have adorable wooly scarves around their stems. And, of course, wear nothing else.
As well as wearing hats and scarves, these pig shakers are additionally humanized by means of human-like clues about their gender. Specifically, his scarf is blue and hers, while not pink, is a colour close to pink, i.e., red. i.e., really really intense pink. (Note how I make my case by already assuming that the one in the blue is a he.) Furthermore, the female is surely, the one with the eyes seductively shut in order to reveal her long humanly feminine lashes. He, with eyes wide open is a traditional gazer, a dominant male with the power to gaze. She, eyes shut and with a very contented smile, seems to imply an appreciation of being subject to that gaze, rendered powerless by it, pr perhaps, being empowered by her ability to attract the gaze.
His hat seems to be straw. Her scarf makes her seem equivalently rural. It seems appropriate that pigs would dress like farm folk.