The Customer Who Buys Three Giant Rude Doormats at a Time (Every Three Years)
Every three years, like clockwork, Kimani in Flushing MI places one of my favorite orders on earth: a set of THREE supersized mats, each ruder than the last. We're talking "Knock Hard But Not Like You The Police," "Come Again When You Can't Stay So Long," "Bitch Don't Wear No Shoes In My House," & the immortal "We Ain't Got Shit — Try Next Door." Kimani does not do subtle, & Kimani does not do small.
And honestly? Kimani gets it. Because when it comes to a doormat with something to say, size matters. A big joke told loud on an oversized doormat hits completely differently than the same line whispered on a little standard rectangle. Kimani figured that out years ago & has been going big — & going back every three years for a fresh set — ever since.
Size matters (I don't make the rules, I just print them huge)
Here's the practical truth behind Kimani's whole strategy. A 24x36 doormat isn't just "a doormat but more." It changes the entire feel of the entry. The lettering is bigger, so the joke reads from farther away — your punchline lands before the guest is even on the step. It fills a wide entry or a double door instead of floating in the middle of it like a sad little postage stamp. And it scrapes more boot, because it's a doormat & that is still technically its job.
If you've got a generous stoop, a wide porch, or French doors, a standard mat can look genuinely lost down there. A big one commands the space. That's why I make them in a range of sizes right up to the supersized end — & if you're not sure what your doorway can handle, I break down the whole sizing question in how to choose the right doormat for your entryway.
Why a SET of three?
This is the part I love about Kimani's order, & it's secretly smart. Three mats means options — a rotation. Feeling especially unbothered by unexpected guests today? Roll out "We Ain't Got Shit — Try Next Door." Hosting people you actually like but still want to needle? "Come Again When You Can't Stay So Long." It's a wardrobe for your front door, & swapping the mat to match your mood is one of the cheapest joys available to a person with a doorstep.
A rotation also means each mat gets a rest instead of one poor rectangle absorbing 365 days of weather & boots. Which brings us to the every-three-years part.
[ IMAGE: Close-up of the thick coir on a big mat — the coarse texture, bold lettering. Alt text: "Close-up of coarse coir texture and bold lettering on an oversized rude doormat." ]
Every three years is the sweet spot
Kimani's three-year cycle isn't random — it's about right for how long a coir mat gives you a good, hard-working life before the sun & rain start winning. Coir is a natural coconut fiber doing a tough outdoor job, & a large funny doormat that greets a busy front door eventually earns its retirement: faded lettering, flattened bristles, a curling corner. Three years of daily use, a good run, & then you refresh.
So Kimani's rhythm is really the ideal model for anyone with a rude big doormat: enjoy it hard, let the set rotate so the wear spreads out, & when they've genuinely given their all, bring in a fresh trio. (Coir being natural, the retired ones can go be weed barriers in the garden instead of the landfill — that's how they end their careers around here.)
Kimani's in good company
Every-three-years Kimani is a charter member of my repeat-customer hall of fame, but not the only one. Liz renews her doormat every time she renews her lease, & Shannon O gifts rude custom mats to everyone she loves, boss included. Around here a doormat isn't a one-time buy — it's a habit, & the best doorsteps in America are on a schedule.
Go big or go... fine, go standard, I still love you
Not everyone has the porch — or the nerve — for a 24x36 that yells "Try Next Door" at the mail carrier, & that's completely fine. But if you've got the space & the attitude, an extra large welcome mat is one of the most satisfying upgrades you can make to a front door. Browse the catalog & see what fits your entry, grab something from the funny catalog if you want to start smaller, or design a custom giant with your own filthy masterpiece on it.
Every mat comes from a small, queer-woman-owned shop that's been printing big jokes on tough coir since 2009 — no warehouse, no timid little rectangles.
See you in three years, Kimani. Keep telling them to try next door.
Be well & enjoy wiping your feet!
Spoon
