The peculiar panty tree
This is the Peculiar Panty Tree Of Broadway Avenue.
I found it on the morning of Friday, Aug. 26 in front of my neighbour’s door and it’s been haunting me ever since.
First, “tree” might not do it justice. It’s almost an “installation.” Anyway, whatever, it was weird.
The base was a stack of grocery store flyers of the sort that get left in every lobby of every building in the city. On top of that was an orange pylon. Then, inserted into the hole at the top of the pylon was a tree branch. And on the branch? Multiple pairs of women’s panties. There were also some panties on the doorknob as well as a ribbon dangling from the top of the door.
It was all very mysterious and I still don’t quite have my head around it.
The building I live in has one very long, narrow hallway. We’re close to the very isolated furthest end away from the elevator and this apartment, along with the one right beside it are at the very end. It’s quiet back here, so if anyone’s having a party or watching porn, or getting up to shenanigans the rest of us in the back 40 hear it.
But we didn’t hear anything. I had played baseball the night before and was out late. When I got home from the bar there was nothing in the hallway. When I got up early the next morning and went into the hall there it was.
So, I figure the Peculiar Panty Tree’s creation happened somewhere between 2 a.m. and 8 a.m. and would’ve been done with at least a certain amount of stealth.
[Note: The reason why the photo’s so crap is because my cat bolted into the hall when I opened our door first thing in the morning. She then immediately ran right towards the Tree and it was all I could do to shush a meowing cat as quickly and quietly as possible while taking a stealth camera phone photo at the same time. By the time I had the cat back inside, the landlord and his wife had arrived and were banging on the Panty Tree beneficiary’s door, looking all serious business, so I couldn’t get another shot.]
It would seem like a multi-person job. After all, I’ve drunkenly hauled around a pylon or two in my day and that’s probably a single person task right there. The branch and the paper stack? Well, those are easily attainable, if not cumbersome, and probably confirmation there were at least two others in on this. At least I hope so. The scariest thought in all this is that this unique shrine was built in the twilight hours by some panty carting weirdo shuffling through my building Quasimodo style, painstakingly piecing together their sculpture. But the panties? Where does someone get a half dozen pairs of women’s panties at 3 a.m.? And if you’re the sort of person that can find stacks of girly gitch in the wee hours, would your first instinct really be, “I know! I’ve got all these underwear. Let’s use them to make some art!”
So as you can see, there are many questions.
What does the Panty Tree symbolize? Is it a courting ritual? A drunken prank? The best breakup message ever? Was this a new, twisted bachelorette party ritual? Banksy’s next phase? And why a tree branch?!
I fear I might never get the answer. I don’t know this neighbour (we’ve been in this building six months and have met everybody else around us — except whoever’s in that apartment) and Sarah thinks they might have actually moved out. If that’s the case they certainly left an interesting parting gift.
Risky Fuel 