Fly G Origin Story

“Now, Carl, I want you to be on your BEST behavior tonight. This is REALLY important to me!!! If I sell enough of these products, I could win an all-expense paid trip for two to Tahiti!!!” Turlana (Carl the Flamingo’s on-again-off-again-but-mostly-off-again fiance) whined. 

Carl lifted a jar of gray goo to his beak, sniffed it, and winced at the rancid smell. “What the hell is this? It smells like sh*t.”

“That’s because it IS. It’s an at-home bird poop facial treatment, hun! It gives you brighter skin!” She chirped cheerfully. 

“People actually smear bird poop on their face?!” Carl asked incredulously.

“Mmmm-hmm! It’s one of our top sellers!” She quipped.

Carl then picked up a pump bottle with a snail pictured on the label. He squirted some in his palm and rubbed it between his feathers. “Eww, what is this slime?!”

“Duh, Carl. It’s snail mucin!” She rolled her eyes, irritated by how immature he was being.

“Well, I think everything’s ready!” She was fussing over a platter of clam dip and crudites on the coffee table. “Now remember, Carl, BEST behavior! That means no snarky comments about these products in front of my guests, OK?! Don’t you want to go to Tahiti?!”

Over the next half hour, the doorbell rang more times than Carl cared to count. A parade of glamorous women came through the door and mingled in the kitchen and living room while they browsed Turlana’s display of questionable beauty products. Their shrill and syrupy voices squealed with delight as they greeted each other and referred to each other as “doll” and “gorgeous.” They were the antithesis of quiet luxury. Draped and drowning in faux fur and costume jewelry, they were like a fashion show for the fabulous mob wife aesthetic in their silk leopard and chain print blouses and red-soled designer shoes. 

Turlana introduced him to the various women. They commented on how adorable he was and how Turlana needed to feed him more. They chided him for being a commitment phobe and questioned why he hadn’t married her yet.

“Anyone need a refill?!” He asked, desperately trying to get away.

“I think it’s about time I started my demonstration, Carl!” The women had all been seated outside on the lanai. Turlana gestured to a bar stool sitting in front of the women and directed Carl to sit down. 

“What for?” He asked suspiciously.

“You’re going to be my assistant today! Now, take a seat.” She instructed, giving him eye daggers. 

He sat on the barstool as Turlana draped a smock over his shoulders and pinned the longer feathers away from his face. 

“I am thrilled to demonstrate our newest and most innovative product! It’s called the Mount Vesuvius Fire Facial! We’ll take a hand towel and soak it in our top-secret Vesuvius formula, and then gently drape this over the face…” She draped the soaking towel over his face, leaving his beak exposed. “Can you still breathe, hun?! She asked. He grunted under the weight of the towel. 

“Then, you’re just going to light the towel on fire!” Turlana rifled through her pockets.”Darnit has anyone seen my lighter?!” She glanced around the patio.

“What the f*ck are you doing?!” Carl jumped out of the chair, trying to claw the flammable towel off his face, but his hands were still slippery from snail mucin.

“Relax, Carl! It’s perfectly safe! The Mount Vesuvius Fire Facial speeds up cell regeneration so you get a radiant glow. It has anti-aging properties!!! Now, just sit down and let me set it on fire, you’ll see!!!” She chased him around the backyard with the stick lighter from their barbeque, trying to set him ablaze. 

His flamingo instincts kicked in, and he took flight. The towel made a satisfying wet plop as it fell off his face and onto one of Turlana’s guests. He swooped down and plucked a pair of oversized sunglasses off of another guest’s head, put them on, and flew away. 

“Carl, where are you going?! Get back here!!!” He heard Turlana scream as he escaped her backyard MLM nightmare. 

Carl decided to fly to Tahiti on his own, where he created a new frame style inspired by Turlana’s fashionable guests. Meet the Fly G: stylish, flat-top, oversized shades that show everyone who’s boss. (Pssst. It’s you.) These fashionable wide-fit frames won’t slip or bounce no matter how wild things get.