I usually write about a piece before it goes out. This one went straight to the shop, and I’m only getting to it now, a few weeks, some orders and two giveaways later. So this isn’t an introduction. It’s more of a check-in on where the Dudes went, and what they turned out to be.
Where they ended up
Half of you picked Blue Monday. I’m choosing not to read too much into that.
Five Dudes went out to winners of two giveaways in the Jelly Smith group on Facebook, and between all of them they have reached the US, Canada and Singapore.
Eight kinds of tired
Same dude, same week, eight different ways of getting through it.
Blue Monday. The original. A pillow already strapped to his head, tassels and all, a headband holding it on, eyes at half-mast and rimmed red, tongue out, drool right on schedule. There’s a gauge bolted to one side of his head, and it isn’t reading anything good.
Red Eye. Orange at the top, burning to red at the jaw, like a face that hasn’t seen a bed in two time zones. Huge white eyes with pinprick pupils, a mouth that’s just a flat blue line, hair still standing up from the flight.
Autopilot. Steel blue, with cables where the hair should be: red, blue and white wires, all plugged into something. One eye is normal. The other is a dark lens with a green crosshair, locked onto nothing in particular. He answers emails he won’t remember sending.
Sick Leave. Green, for the obvious reason. Shaggy orange hair, heavy orange brows pulled together, yellow eyes and a row of crooked yellow teeth. He called in sick, then spent the whole day answering messages anyway.
Deadline. Blue at the crown, turning yellow at the chin, like the colour is draining out of him. One white eye, one orange, mouth open in a scream with something dripping out of it. This is the last hour before it’s due.
Hazard Pay. Yellow like a warning sign, and leaking something green from the top and from the mouth. Tubes coming out of his head, a valve wheel on his forehead, purple gauges on both sides. All the risk, none of the raise.
Midnight Oil. Purple fading into red, hair on fire (actually on fire), thick orange brows dug in, teeth clenched. Still going at 2 a.m.
Cold Brew. Dark brown and see-through, like the real thing held up to the light. Half his face has turned into gears and copper, with one big white eye on the human side and an orange lens on the other. A green band runs over the top like the rim of a cup. He’s the only one grinning. For now.
They glow
Every Dude also glows in the dark. The glow is in the resin itself, so the face lights up while the hair and the hardware stay dark, and no two come out quite the same. Turn the lights off and you get tired faces looking back at you like lit windows at the end of a long shift.
Why there are never many of them
None of the colour on a Dude is painted on. Every bead is cast in its own mold, one mold per bead, and every colour detail goes in separately, colour by colour and layer by layer, until the whole face is there. That part alone is about four hours of hands-on work per bead.
Then the resin needs eight hours to cure. Taking it out of the mold is the nervous part: the hair and the small parts break easily, and any bead that comes out with a flaw goes in the bin. There is no fixing it later. The ones that survive get cleaned up: flash trimmed, edges filed, surfaces sanded.
Only after that do I add paint, and only for depth: shading to bring out the shapes, a little ageing, a bit of tone. Another eight hours to dry. Then the surface gets finished again and sealed with a protective coat, so the colour stays put and the bead holds up to daily carry.
So it’s more than twenty hours from the first pour to the last coat, most of it waiting, and some of the batch never makes it. That’s the honest reason there are only ever a few at a time.
Why I carry one
I like this bead for a selfish reason: it doesn’t scratch my lights or my knives. It sits on the lanyard right next to them and nothing gets marked. And because the colour is cast all the way through instead of painted on, there’s nothing to wear off. It’s one solid piece. It will look tired forever, which is exactly the point.
Which one are you this week? If yours is already out there riding on a lanyard, send me a photo. I would love to see where they ended up.
