One fateful evening many years ago, a chandelier that had been left out for street collection made sweet love to an old pair of Nikes strewn over a power-line, and the first Decrotiva was born. Their gene-pool has since been cultivated with the addition of gloves, softballs, beadwork and tapestry; built for humans, used, perhaps loved, and then discarded. They are decorative and grotesque, feminine, soft, and terrifying. They are a nightmare about your grandmother’s house. A porno set in a yarn store.