Sculpting My Own Boyfriend: The Grimbaud Life
You've probably read the blurb for Love Charms and Other Catastrophes by now. And no doubt, this particular part has caused you pause:
"Concerned that its favorite charm maker has given up on finding a boyfriend of her own, Love takes matters into its own hands and delivers the perfect boyfriend to her in a giftwrapped box...literally."
Literally.
I don't know how I would react if I found a boyfriend wrapped in a nice box on my doorstep. Nope. No idea.
But as I did some shopping this month, I found something that I knew I had to try because it reminds me of Hijiri. It might, in fact, be a thing sold in Grimbaud.
I'm still not sure if a love charm is attached to this thing, but... this is for you, guys. I bought this:
Yes, this is a real thing. Take a moment to read the front and back of the kit. Savor those words. Your, your, your. I love the focus.
In February, when you can't help but look at others - other couples, in particular, and jab your own heart in the process - the message here is ironically sweet for a joke gift. The minute you open the kit, this is about what you want. Kind of appealing.
So let's see how I did with it.
As promised, the kit comes with polymer clay and an instruction booklet. This is the time where you sit with your eyes closed, envisioning the perfect guy you'll create with your super fantastic artistic skills.
Then you actually start sculpting head. And it begins:
I'm not getting "dreamy," are you? He looked more like John Malkovich as a Muppet.
Plus, I got fingernail prints all over him. BATTLE SCARS. How do polymer clay sculptors avoid making those???
Thoughts I was meditating on: What is love? What's for dinner? Why do I love it when guys roll up their shirtsleeves? Who thought it was a good idea to put googly eyes in this kit and why would that be romantic?
You'll have to check my Instagram for my thoughts on sculpting my boyfriend's hair - but let's just say that I was VERY determined not to copy the hair on the kit.
Now then. Time to sculpt the body. One big problem, though. When I opened the blue pack of clay meant for the t-shirt, the clay was completely hard. I couldn't use it! WHAT TO DO?
My boyfriend decided for me that his favorite color is black. So I prayed that I had enough of that clay to cover the rest of his body and set to work. I couldn't help but add the crumbled, useless bits of blue clay I managed to dig out. VICTORY CRUMBS.
I am also incapable of sculpting thin arms.
There is no need to show you how painstaking it was to sculpt his legs. For a brief moment, I considered not giving him a torso. I was out of clay. But then - I still had brown clay left! If you see him on the street, please don't ask him why his pants are two different colors. He'll be embarrassed. Maybe.
My polymer clay boyfriend is needy. Instead of sculpting flowers, I had to use the yellow clay for shoes.
So here he is, standing up (leaning on) his paper bedroom. A bedroom I wouldn't have dreamed of, but you know. It came with the kit.
Side by side comparison. They look almost the same. If you squint.
Okay, so I didn't sculpt my dream boyfriend. My skills just aren't that great. I also realized that I will probably never sculpt adorable tiny clay food, so I should move on to another hobby like making pop-up books or terrariums.
After finishing and cleaning up all the bits of clay, I finished by afternoon with another very February treat:
So tell me... how was your Valentine's Day? Have you ever attempted to sculpt before and how did it go?
