As a kid I didn’t understand why some people found clowns frightening, but then I realized that I never got close to clowns. I wonder if any cases of coulrophobia can be traced to an early up-close experience with a clown. That’s probably oversimplifying, though, especially since I’ve had a fascination with makeup for as long as I can remember. If I’d been gotten up close to clowns I probably would have gone into a coulrophobia-inducing career.
That clown in the photo is pretty damned creepy even from a distance in space and time.
Shivers. Look at that kid’s face. It says it all.
The wide-pants clown standing out on the snowy ground is the creepiest.
I’m picturing the building in the background as an old insane asylum.
That particular clown creeps me out too, and I like clowns. Although the one that I find really eerie is the last one: the dark-faced clown holding a candle. Definitely a crying-on-the-inside type.
As Alfred Hitchcock said: “There’s nothing scarier than a clown after midnight.”
Though I grew up watching the same TV clown on whom Matt Groening based Krusty the Clown. Clowns can also be jerks.
Most vintage photos are kind of creepy. Can we stop with the clown hate?
I like clowns. Mostly. I especially dig this 7-foot, singing clown.
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