Dress-A-Vac

Say it loud, and say it proud: "You can have fun with your vacuum!" That's what the print edition of the Carol Wright gift catalogue has to say about Dress-A-Vac, the anthropomorphic cloth sack you stick on your vacuum cleaner. Now, after years of dour vacuum-related experiences, Americans can finally cut loose with one of their least-loved cleaning implements.

Here's how you can have fun with your vacuum: You can dress it up as a bear, a cat, a bunny or a maid.

Contrary to all logic and most cultural norms, the product actually exists. It costs $14.99. It was originally $19.95. Most of the other Carol Wright gifts list the price of unidentified "competitors" (always higher), but the Dress-A-Vac seems to be an exclusive. Obviously, once it achieves a critical level of commercial success, we can expect a spate of imitators (Clad-A-Vac, Clothe-A-Vac, Shod-A-Vac, Vac Kimono, Vac-In-Slacks, Muu-Muu Vac, Sharp-Dressed-Vac) but we'll always remember the bear/ cat/ bunny/ maid-looking originals.

The important questions here, of course, are about the creators of Dress-A-Vac. Who are these people? What are they doing? Can they be stopped by the Bush Administration's new security agency?

Actually, they're probably very nice rural ladies from North and/or South Dakota who have dreams of turning a knitting mishap into a national commercial empire.

Back to Dress-A-Vac itself. One of its most dubious attributes is that it allows you to dress your vacuum up as a maid, which some might view as demeaning to those in the service industry. Although, granted, the maid's uniform is of the "I'm getting paid $50-an-hour to wear this and engage in anal sex with strangers" variety, rather than the "I'm getting paid $6-an-hour to wear this and clean up the ring of hair you left in the hotel bathtub" variety.

Is that a point in Dress-A-Vac's favor?

As for the non-maid incarnations, some observers would say that dressing up your vacuum as a modestly dressed country farm marm — with an animal head — is a questionable decorating choice. However, the Dress-A-Vac's key feature, as detailed by the catalog, is that it allows you to "turn any upright vacuum into a great conversation piece!"

This claim seems credible, depending on how you define the words "great" and "conversation."

Moreover, Dress-A-Vac seems to bring great promise to those of us who re-enact key battles from the American Civil War using vacuum cleaners. No longer must you rely on your imagination to re-create the moment when Confederate General Stonewall Jackson, dressed as a woman with a cat's head, rolled into action against dustballs and stubborn carpet dirt.

Thanks to Dress-A-Vac, having fun with your vacuum has never been this easy... or, frankly, this utterly demented.

— James Norton (jrnorton@flakmag.com)