In Case of Flambuoyant, Bikini-Clad Bears, Who Do You Call?

A couple of days ago, I posted the following picture in an entry:

the neighbourhood

I kept going back to look it over, because something about it was bothering me. Was it something about the people who were in it? Was it how all the trees lean left? I stared and stared and stared until it hit me.

There was small bear with a weird hat and a frilly bikini hanging out next to the sidewalk!

see the bear?

I showed this to the Palinode, but he said that it might just be a garden gnome.

I don't think so. Like garden gnomes are ever that giant. And who leaves a three-foot-tall garden gnome out on public property, anyway? Where does one even get a three-foot-tall garden gnome? Aren't those things usually only about a foot high?

To get to the bottom of this, I blew the picture up and outlined the bear, his weird hat, and his frilly bikini, because he is so there:

bikini bear

See? I assume that it's a rather civilized bear, being that it's fashion-conscious, if a little on the tacky side, and the Palinode thinks it's cute, but you just never know with bears, even ones in frilly bikinis.

I wonder if it speaks English? I keep assuming that it's from England and has a delightful accent. I also keep assuming that it's a transvestite bear, like of course a seeming phantom in a photograph of a street in Regina would be a transvestite, anthropomorphic bear from England.

I think I'm being influenced by my only other clothes-wearing bear knowledge, which I gained from reading stories about Paddington Bear, which are fictional, which just goes to show that I've allowed my limited knowledge of clothes-wearing bears to lead me to stereotype all of them as humanoid cross-dressers.

Not that there's anything wrong with cross-dressers. Or being humanoid. I just shouldn't assume that a bear in a bikini is a boy. Or English. Not that there's anything wrong with being a boy or English.

Stupid bear. I bet it's actually just somebody's hairy kid or something, and now it looks like I'm insulting all hirsute children everywhere by likening them to small bears that practice transvestitism, and somehow at some point this will devolve into a screaming match about breast feeding vs formula and the nutritional and emotional needs of hirsute children, because this is the internet, after all, and what would we be if not panicked about the babies.

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Grace in Small Things: Sunday Edition #35