Good Luck and Pirate Jinxes

This Johnson Smith Good Luck Ring (ad from 1922) intrigued me - because what it is, of course, is a skull ring. Skull rings were a form of memento mori jewelry created and worn to remember the deceased and literally to remind oneself of one's mortality (which is, after all, part of the original meaning of All Hallows' Eve). There are some spectacularly beautiful Georgian and Victorian skull rings here and here, for example. The 1922 ring looks a little bit happier than some of the other skull rings in old ads, and has curious horn-like eyebrows.

What is interesting about the novelty skull rings from the early 20th century is their detachment from this original meaning - in these ads, all from Popular Mechanics, the ring is supposed to be lucky or to frighten other people or, as in the 1952 ad, have something to do with a "Pirate Jinx."

The earliest novelty skull ring ad I found was from October 1912 (ad at right), so was possibly a Halloween tie-in. It was made by Acme H. House of Milwaukee and was a "handsome up to date ring"  for "sporting men" guaranteed to "scare the timid." What sort of sporting men would have worn this, do you think?


The "Skull Ring" on the left was advertised in 1917. The copy states that "women won't like it, but for men or boys it is a great novelty." 

In October 1947, Billboard advertised these "Superior" rings (for which read : "Cheap and Inferior"), including a multiple-snake ring and a skull ring. The skull eyes came in assorted colors and even though it was "truly a novel ring" you could buy them for "3.30 a dozen" (which hardly sounds novel, really).

The yellowed ad on the left is from 1952, by which time it is being called both a Skull Ring and a Pirate Jinx Ring. "Sterling silver" and yet only $1.98 - there's a Pirate Jinx right there.

I had no idea where the Johnson Smith novelties ad was going to take me when I started yesterday's post - but that is part of the enormous fun of writing about history and popular culture, and being able to pursue what seems interesting. This seems a bit more like a Dime Museum post, but it's staying here anyway.

******
Tomorrow starts National Novel Writing Month - which means that once again I'll be writing a first draft of what I hope will be, after 3 previous NaNos, a decent mystery novel (I have 3 bad first drafts and I don't need to have a 4th, since I don't intend to use them as dining room chairs). I will still be posting here, because I'm certainly going to need some laughs - but if I miss the odd day, you'll know why. And if I don't answer comments sometimes, you'll know why, too - apologies in advance.

Strange Novelties From the Jazz Age

Here are three things you will want to have for that Halloween party tomorrow night, from Popular Mechanics, October 1922 - thanks to Johnson Smith, the noted leaders in weird novelties.

1. The Mystic Skeleton - Not really very mystic, it will do the Monster Mash and the Twist while "the operator" mans the remote control from across the room. It is only 14 inches tall, though, so you'd better clear the dance floor first. Otherwise the Mystic Skeleton will get crunched up.

2. Serpent's Eggs - A dozen fake eggs that you "light with a match" and then a dozen fake snakes hatch and "twist about in a most life-like manner." They will enjoy dancing with the Mystic Skeleton. You might want to have a few fire extinguishers on hand, too - lighting eggs sounds a little tricky.

3. The Wonderful X-Ray Tube - Well, it's wonderful all right. You can see what are "apparently the bones in your fingers" through it. The Mystic Skeleton will want to try this out when it's taking a break from dancing up a storm. He might be able to see some plastic marrow - or something. Or possibly nothing at all. Which might be what you end up seeing, too, since it isn't really a Roentgen-approved scientific apparatus. But Johnson Smith promises that you will see the lead in a pencil and "the interior opening in a pipe stem" - which believe me, no one wants to see, not even a pipe cleaner.

The fourth novelty was so interesting I started doing a little extra research on it and...I'm going to post about it tomorrow. It is the perfect thing to show you on Halloween. And on that note - I'm going to leave you guessing!

No One Will Ever Suspect!

Not to worry, it isn't really National Use-Up-Your-Leftovers-in-a-Jell-O-Salad Week. And even if it was, you can opt out of this multiple-spoon disaster.  

Bet you have a dish of leftover peas or beans or carrots in the refrigerator right now...too little to serve everyone, and too much to throw away!

Well, I suppose there's enough for just one person. Why can't one person have them.  Or maybe I will just throw them out. Those peas are tired and so am I! As for the slice of olive, I think we can let go of that, too. 

Why not use them beautifully tonight in a tempting Jell-O salad. It'll taste so good, no one will ever suspect!

Oh, I think they might suspect, you know? Jell-O is see-through. And unless everyone totally forgot what they ate last night, that horror of a Jell-O mold will bring it back to them. Vividly.

Riddle answers from the last post:

What begins with a P, ends with an E and has a thousand letters in it? A Post Office. (The Bewildered Brit got this one.)
What does a cat have that no other animal has? Kittens. ( Jen at The Transmogrifier's Tale got this one - and thank you both for playing!)

The Weeny Witch Monarchy

This is just what the youngsters always wanted: to eat a witch made out of a hot dog. Therefore, your kids will be "kings and queens of the neighborhood" if you serve this to their friends. Granted, a hot dog is not generally interpreted as a mandate to rule, but perhaps the neighborhood does not know this.

What this really means is that YOU will be the acting Queen of the neighborhood, since your children will be too young to assume their royal duties. OK, now we're talking! Bring on the weeny witches.

Now, after you have made the children eat weeny witches, and grabbed control of the monarchy, you can enter the "Make the Baby Talk Contest"* (that's at the bottom of the ad). After all, you are the Queen, right? So the baby must have something to say about this. What will you make the baby say? How about:

- No, Your Highness, I will not throw my strained peas on the floor any more.

- Why certainly, I would love to sit in the playpen. Perhaps you could hand me a few magazines through the bars. If you would be so very kind. Or perhaps one of the courtiers could do this [hint: that would be the cats].

-Those Weeny Witches were an inspired idea, Your Highness! I simply cannot wait to see what delights you have in store for the Christmas season.

[From Life, October 26, 1953.]

* This referred to putting a cutesy caption on a baby photo, actually.

The Cereal Box Masquerade

Even the inanimate objects are dressing up in Halloween costumes here. The little cereal boxes decided to be -  treats.

So picture this:

You're all dressed up like Grandpa from The Munsters.* Grandpa from The Munsters with a bad case of seasickness. So he's grumpy and green and he really needs something good to happen. As for you, you want candy. It's Halloween after all - the festival of free candy! And boy, things need to get better soon. It's been pencils and apples mostly, so far. Oh, and a few molasses taffy kisses, the kind with the orange and black paper wrappers that are welded right onto the taffy.

Ding-dong, trick or treat!

This can't be happening. Surely it is a bad dream. Maybe Grandpa never got off that boat and you're both drifting in a skim milk sea of bad luck and Alphabits that spell L-O-S-E-R.. Because - mini boxes of breakfast cereal? For Halloween? Oh, Mrs. Post, you just didn't!

Oh yes she did though! And the box even says Treat-Pak. The corporate Post Ghosties think this is a great idea. They even think you won't play any tricks, you will be so happy!

At the bottom, a tiny picture of the same kid is saying "All Post cereals happen to be just a little bit better." Just a little bit better than - than what? What else has Mrs. Post got on hand tonight? Goody bags filled with Bran Flakes? Skim milk cartons and spoons? Or something even more sinister?

Guess which house everyone's going to be covering in toilet paper tonight.

*Good trick that, because this ad predates the TV series by several years. The Munsters ran from 1964 to 1966, and this ad is from 1958.

What was the worst treat you ever got trick-or-treating? Please share! (Mine were mini boxes of Chiclets, and pencils.)

[From Life, October 27, 1958. That gave everyone four days to rush out and buy Treat Paks. Oh, and toilet paper.]

Hold Your Hat, Bermuda Is Charming!

I was just looking through The Complete Letter Writer, from 1957 - which is full of examples of letters you can write to people who have moved away from your home town and miss the gossip, or to someone who is about to give you a job (you hope!) or thanking them for that swell orange Banlon sweater. They suggest that you begin a "newsy letter" with a peppy opening like "Bermuda is charming!" (which only works if you are in fact in Bermuda) or "Hold your hat! I have news for you!"

Well, hold your hat! I have a blog post for you! And it isn't about Bermuda, though I have no doubt that that is a charming place. I'm sure I wouldn't mind sitting on a beach somewhere like that, in a chaise longue, with a cold pina-colada type drink and a really good book and...well, and so on. But I'm not and you're not. So what have we got? A book from 1957 about letter-writing etiquette, that's what.

One of the practice letters is to a child at summer camp. It's full of the usual sorts of things: mind the poison ivy, you forgot your baseball mitt, Mom says wear your long underwear. That is, until the Dad who is writing it says that Sis is telling riddles all the time, and did she get this idea from the camping child? Dad includes the latest one and says he wrote the answer on the back of the letter.

The riddle is: What begins with P, ends with E, and has a thousand letters in it?*

That's it, I thought to myself. I have riddles for the Doubletake today! That's newsy, isn't it? I guess it will do. Since I'm not in Bermuda or anything. I even have a bonus riddle for you, on the Victorian picture card: What is it which a Cat has but no other animal?*

I'm not doing Halloween-themed posts over here, because there are plenty on Kitchen Retro and I will do one at least for Virtual Dime Museum. But over here, we've got riddles. And shameless links to my other blogs, but you already knew that.

And next time we'll have the answers plus a 1950s Jell-O idea that will perhaps tax the limits of your imagination (and digestion)...

The Bermuda postcard from Cartophilia. I won't tell you where the cat card is from, yet, because the answer is over there, too.

Scotch This

How Your Kids Can Have A Happier Halloween:

1. Use an excessive amount of shiny Scotch tape on Halloween mask.

2. Forget to attach an elastic cord to mask. Attempt to Scotch tape mask to head. Give up, removing tape (and some of your hair). Spend the evening holding it up to your face instead.

3. Realize that if you have to hold the mask like this, you won't actually be able to hold a candy bag.

4. Further realize that even if you could use one hand to hold a candy bag, the other hand would not be able to hold large mask up to adequately cover face.

5. Now start to worry about how cats probably do not go around wearing blue and white polka-dotted shirts. This is what happens when you spend all your time Scotch taping together a fancy mask. But at least you did manage to make a cat tail.

6. However: tail is stuck on with last few bits of linty tape (having used it all on the mask). Worry about efficacy of Scotch tape holding cat tail to the back of your pants.

[From Life, October 20, 1961. Scotch is a slang term meaning to put an end to something, as in scotching a rumor - aside from its being a synonym for Scottish, somewhat disliked by the Scottish.]

I Dreamed A Green Pelican Disliked My Halloween Costume

If you're looking for a good Halloween costume - keep on looking. Because this is not it.

You will just look like you forgot the top half of the ballerina outfit. I guess you could go as a forgetful ballerina, though. A forgetful ballerina with a lion head. Or a bird head (don't forget the cage and the jelly bean bird seed!). Or any number of other animal heads. There's a definite animal theme (except for the moon, at the bottom left, who seems to be hunting down the animal ballerinas for some reason).

What I really want to know is what the model is supposed to be for Halloween, in the big picture. She is wearing the worst looking plant-hat ever! It does distract one's attention from her shirtlessness. Sort of. But mostly it just makes her look like the unpredictable sort of guest who's going to cause a ruckus at the punchbowl at some point in the evening.

It also looks like her head is being squeezed by a rabid green pelican. Clearly, it does not approve of this semi-costume of hers. And it is all kinds of hungry, too.

If I were her, I'd stop preening for the camera and try to locate some jelly beans, pronto.

Many thanks to Althouse for this one. She got it from one of her commenters, so many thanks to him or her as well.

The Ventrilo

The Ventrilo was manufactured by the fabulous Johnson Smith & Co., makers of novelties such as this fake money. This one is also a little - irregular. Shady, even. I mean, yes, you could use it to make pretty little bird calls. But why not fool people instead? 

That is obviously a ventriloquist on the right, with some creepy pals on his knee, - but what in the world is going on in the picture on the left? Is the schoolboy making the pack on the guy's back talk? And if so, why? 

Lots of fun fooling the teacher, policeman or friends. Why, that does sound like fun. Possibly followed by detention  - either in the principal's office or the local station house, your choice.

Pretend you are in a trunk or under the bed "or anywhere." That sounds like fun,too. How about pretending you're in a trunk, under the bed? There'll be lots of laughs if you do that, say, at a party. Or when it's time to go to school. Or when they're coming to arrest you for using that Johnson Smith counterfeit money all over town.

[From a 1922 Popular Mechanics. Guess which city Johnson Smith & Co. was based in? Hint: we've been to this city many, many times before - and are never disappointed by the weird products there.]

The all-Halloween kitsch and retro starts tomorrow and runs through the 31st ...

A Three Stooges Jack-O-Lantern

A little Halloween decorating idea from Popular Mechanics in 1935: make a "safe and cheap" jack-o-lantern from a balloon, a flashlight and some wrapping paper. Before you start, though, you have to blow up the balloon and paint on a grumpy Curly Howard face. You could make Moe and Larry lanterns to go with it.

I'm not sure where you would put this, since the flashlight has to be laid flat in order for people to see the balloon face. And someone also needs to be flashing the light on and off. I'm sure someone at your house will gladly volunteer to just hold the Curly balloon-and-flashlight and flick the on-off switch, all evening. And they can say "woo woo!" instead of "boo!" That will be fun.

Banlon News

Thanks so much for joining us for this special news report on Ban-Lon Knits. We'll be bringing you all the latest on these colorful yet uncomfortable acrylic sweaters which require a guy to hold his arms at an awkward angle and put on a patently phony smile.

Speaking of which: our top story is an orange V-neck cardigan with black pants, just right for Halloween. But watch out when you're handing out the mini chocolate bars! A source close to this cardigan tells us exclusively that this self-conscious arm positioning is, in fact, because the cardigan sleeves are too long.

And now in other stories:

News in Vests: Today, lots of small white buttons team up with acrylic yarn to form what many are calling "the worst looking vests I have ever seen," according to one source, who added that "they are so tightly knit around the bottom, it's hard to see how one could avoid cutting one's blood supply off." Another source added that buttoning one's collar up to the top might also play some part in this alarming circulatory issue.

News in Sweaters: Pink v-neck or black bulky-knit? Or perhaps a light blue with a collar? The choice is yours. But there is no choice in yarn. Wool is uncool - cotton is rotten - but Ban-Lon is in. On a side note, there is no relevant rhyme for Ban-Lon. Man Gone? Ran One? It just doesn't work. Best to just move on to the next story, really.

Which brings us, finally, to the News in Sweater Shirts - and with all the latest, here's Doug McGregor, our National Acrylic Correspondent, coming to us live from the menswear department at Macy's in New York City. Wouldn't you really just call this a collared sweater, Doug? As opposed to a Sweater Shirt.

Doug: Yes.

So there really is no Sweater Shirt news at all.

Doug [pausing]: Yes, that's correct.

Thanks so much, Doug. Well, that seems to be all the news in this ad. Please join us at eleven for a recap of the same drivel, plus a Special Report on Ban-Lon Socks: are they any darn good? Now back to your regular Saturday programming...

[This report was brought to you by Life, October 27, 1958.]

Not Just Delicious Meals

Greetings from the Jordan Inn in Monetta, South Carolina! According to Wikipedia, Monetta had a population of 220 according to the 2000 census. The Inn was on Highway 1, west of Monetta, and was run by John Jordan in the 1930s. According to a quick internet search, the postcard appears to date from 1939.

This looks like it was a lovely place to stay, but my favorite part of this old postcard is the charmingly boastful text on the back: the Jordan Inn not only has "Delicious Meals" but also has "Heat" and "Parking." There is something quite charming about Heat and Parking being considered exciting attractions. As far as I could tell, the Inn no longer exists (at least, not as an inn) - which is too bad.

Apologies for the blurry text image - it was the best my scanner could manage (this one is from my collection, so my scanner was pressed into service).

Inferiority Complexion

Well, this advertisement isn't actually adding to my fun, exactly.

That girl over there, who appears to have a perfectly decent complexion, is sitting by the phone holding her ear. But maybe she has an earache from too much talking on the phone! Maybe she is not unpopular at all.

Probably not. I guess she needs some of this skin cream in order to cheer up. Because everyone knows you can hear zits over the phone! You can just tell if the voice on the other end of the line is coming out of a pizza face.

Another thing that is killing my fun is the name of this stuff: Pompeian Milk Massage Cream.* Pompeii, as you probably recall, is the go-to town for volcanic eruptions and what Wikipedia charmingly calls "exposed layers of jumbled sediment." Well, thank you very much, I can take a hint.

So now that the Pompeian Cream Company has reduced your self-confidence to rubble, you need to purchase and then apply their cream to your "soiled skin." If you take the directions literally, this turns out to be rather strange:

1. First stick your face in a hot towel. Added bonus: if you need to answer the phone now, no one will be able to sense your skin condition!

2. Then apply the cream...Wait. What? Apply it on the towel? Because the towel is presumably still over your face. They never said to take it off!

3. Then massage your skin (mind the hot towel) - and watch the cream turn from "wholesome clean pink" to "greasy dirt-grey" as it picks up the gunk on your horrible, filthy face. Lovely.

4. Towel is still on. They never ever tell you to take that hot towel off your face. Do they? They do not. Maybe the hot towel is the key to everything. The cream is just an excuse to tell you to stick a large cloth over your head - maybe a paper bag would be OK if you are in a hurry. Just - do something to cover up that greasy dirt-grey volcanic-ashen face of yours.

Archeologists everywhere will be phoning soon to thank you.

Note: You know that I'd be mocking them if they explicitly told us to remove the towel, too, don't you? In that case I'd say: oh, they must think we're really stupid!

* I do believe they left an 'i' off of Pompeiian, which is mildly annoying too. 

From Life, August 11, 1941.

Square Brown Cup Not Included

Of course if he is stressed out and under pressure, you know who's got to get in there fast as a bunny and fix things - right?

Yes, ladies, that is correct. Please add this to your to-do list.

It shows in his eyes, the hunch of his shoulders, the way he picks at his food.

Because "a wife can always tell" when a guy is "Under Pressure."  Oh look - quotation marks. You know it's time to be suspicious when you see those in an ad. Maybe it isn't work that's bugging this guy. Maybe he's also a werewolf. Maybe he's been moonlighting a lot. Maybe  - oh, just maybe - he just drinks too much coffee. Mr. Caffein Nerves knows all about this sort of thing.*

Or it could be a combination of things. Maybe he's a werewolf who drinks twelve cups of coffee a day with a wildebeest for a boss and he's also seeing the cheetah (hah!) in the typing pool on the side. Oh, he's stressed out all right. Poor thing. 

But have you given any thought to his hot mealtime drink? Gee, you know what, I hadn't. I thought he could decide about that by himself. Oh, silly me. So help him out with tea!  Come on sister, move it! Brew that tea! And when you have a moment, you ought to pick the peas out of the mixed vegetables for him, too. I mean, have you given any thought to his mixed vegetable needs? He really gets upset about those peas. You know that. 

Anyway, you are supposed to give him tea at every meal for seven days and see if that makes him less stressed out. Serve it in big cups and little mugs and even in square brown cups. You'd better run out to the store right now and get some if you don't have any square brown cups.

And please - give more thought to his chinaware needs from now on. It'll be on your conscience otherwise.

[This is from Life magazine, November 13, 1950 and the full-size version is here.]


* I know, I know! I can't believe I haven't got all my old posts over here yet, either...Speaking of to-do lists.

Bye Bye Halloween Birdie

And a Happy Sexist Halloween to you too, from Popular Mechanics in 1957!

If you are a little boy, you can be a cowboy with a horse and a gun. The horse looks like the top of a boudoir vanity table  with a broom and a horse's head stuck at either end, but never mind. At least you aren't a girl.

Because if you are a girl you are going be - a bird stuck in a "gilded" cage! You can wear a scratchy, itchy, ugly bird head, but the rest of you is all party dress and mary janes. What kind of bird is that supposed to be?

And if that wasn't humiliating enough, you also get to carry your own personal prison cell around with you all night.

Also, you won't be able to eat your jelly bean "bird seeds." Not with that big bird head on. But, as the charming gentlemen at Popular Mechanics point out, at least the other guests can enjoy them.

Great. You're stuck in a cage, wearing a ridiculous hot uncomfortable bird head, and all you can do is watch all the other kids scarf down your candy.

Aren't you glad you're a girl?

The big version is here, if you want to see all the annoying text, and how to make that cage out of curtain rings, dowels and a wash basin.

The Dixie Cup Horror

Nothing was ever the same after Mom put up that Dixie Cup dispenser.

At the time, it just seemed like an ordinary day. But looking back, I can see that it was really the beginning of all the trouble. The horror. The terrifying beverages and how they changed us all. Most of all, those red paper cups whose hypnotic powers no one could have suspected.

I can still see her as if it was only yesterday, holding out a red paper cup to the four of us. It seemed to glow brighter than the rest of the kitchen. We had just come in from school, tired and thirsty. Just how thirsty, we hadn't quite realized.

All of a sudden, I forgot all about that F+ I'd just got on my math test.  And the words New Dixie Cup Dispenser started running through my brain over and over. A warm joyful thrill filled me and I felt a huge, kind of stupid smile light up my face like it was Christmas morning and I'd just got that ten-speed bicycle from Sears.

And then I saw that Billy and Bob had stopped fighting about who'd snitched the last Oreo cookie this morning at breakfast. As for Betty Sue - she was about to tell on all of us, because that's what made her real happy at the end of a tough day - well, gosh, even she shut up and just....well, a dreamy, sappy look spread across her face like maple syrup over a pancake. We all felt like that. Wow, Mom - Dixie Cups! In their own little house, too!

Mom held the Dixie cup up for a long time, staring back at us. And then I realized...we were just stuck there. Smiling and staring. Couldn't move a muscle. I heard Mom say, in a new, deep voice: And now you will all  go and do your homework, and there will be no fighting! And no fussing. And then later you will enjoy drinking the special drink I have just invented, from these lovely red paper cups.

Dad too? Betty Sue managed to say through her grin. Mom smiled an even bigger smile, and for the first time I felt a little bit scared. Why, yes, Dad too, she said. And then Mom laughed a strange, new, tinkly laugh.

That is, we thought it was Mom...

[Thank you to Retro Ads and Graphics for this wonderful ad (which is featured at the bottom left of the main page). This looks like a late 50s- early 60s vintage one.]

A Mysterious Device

Let's start the week off with a very bad idea from the November 1940 issue of Popular Mechanics: the Electro-Torch, also known as "Mysterious Device." Yes, we all need one of these around the house. Never know when you might need to weld a few iron bars together.

If it really is that mysterious, why would they say that anyone can operate it? And is it really a good idea to make something this powerful - and mysterious - easy to just plug into the nearest light socket?

It comes with  a "power unit," goggles and "supplies" - whatever they might be. This is all very vague and - to be honest - worrying.

The First Aid kit and insurance are not included.

[Note: the Electro-Torch Company is based in Chicago, along with so many other odd-product companies, I had to make a special tag for Retro Chicago.]

The Ingenues: An All-Girl Jazz Band From 1928

For Music Monday, here's one of the first all-female jazz bands - The Ingenues, in a Vitaphone film from 1928. This was still technically the silent movie era, so I suspect that there was a separate musical track played in sync with the film (the first talkie, Al Jolson's The Jazz Singer, would not be out until the following year).

Also known as The Band Beautiful, these amazing women toured from the mid-1920s to the late 1930s -  first in vaudeville and movie theaters in the Midwest, then nationally on the Orpheum circuit (one of the top vaudeville circuits of the 1920s). In the 1930s the band was led by Louise Sorenson, a trumpet player who was so versatile, she also played every other instrument in the band! It looks like most of the women played several instruments - including the accordion (they all have one of these at their feet).

The song is "Sweeping the Cobwebs Off the Moon." It's great music- and I love the flapper hair and fashions, too!



A longer clip of The Ingenues from the same year is here on YouTube. And another version of "Sweeping the Cobwebs off the Moon" is here, as played by Waring's Pennsylvanians in 1927.

Thanks to JMHare for the 1920s sheet music cover of the song.

Ode On A Can Of Old Dutch Cleanser

It's contest time! Old Dutch Cleanser had a contest in 1942 in which one had to complete a little poem in order to win lots of very green money (as you can see, it will make you simper when you hold it close to your face).

OK, so here's what we have to do - we will be filling in the last line of this immortal verse:

"I Like Old Dutch Cleanser"
Said A Housewife named Knight
"It's so safe and so fast

...Though my hands look a fright
...And the sink looks all right
...I'll be done by midnight
...Though the difference is slight
...She's just being polite
...It cleans better than Sprite
...And it doesn't ignite!

There are probably some Knight jokes in there, possibly about the Round Table, but I don't think I can find them right now. I was thinking about Old Dutch Cleanser anyway because I was writing about it over on The Doubletake yesterday - when you win the contest, you'll be so grateful to that Old Dutch Cleanser can, you may want to make it a little sweater. If you do, the pattern is over there.

[From Life, March 30, 1942]

A Little Sweater For A Can

You appreciate what Comet - or Dutch Cleanser - or whatever you favorite is - does for you. It is full of greenish gritty stuff that sticks to a  sponge and helps you have fun scrubbing the bathtub. And - well, it's almost time for the holidays. Time to show a little appreciation for the little helpers in your life. Right?

Hence, the Crocheted Cleanser Cover.

This is from a 1964 book called 101 Things To Make For Fun Or Money.This probably comes under the "For Fun" category. If you had to choose. Although I am not sure how much fun you will have. That is hard to say. Perhaps they mean that the can will have fun wearing it. Or that people who see what you've been up to will have fun talking about you after they go home. One of those things, anyway.

So if you happen to have a bunch of Comet cans sitting around and you want them to look lovely, this is the pattern for you! It certainly will brighten up that under-the-sink cabinet.Or perhaps you will like these covers so much you will display all the Comet and Dutch Cleanser cans on a knick-knack shelf.

I suppose you could also make covers for the cans in your kitchen, too. And the frozen orange juice cans. With heavy wool yarn, of course, because it's cold in the freezer!

Suddenly...You're Really Cooking!

No wonder they look so - thoughtful. One might almost say, unhappy. Unhappy because their circulation has been cut off by the quilted silver insulating shorts they are cooking themselves in - like roast chickens in the grocery store. Literally cooking, too - for behold, these are Sauna Trim Shorts.

This is the genius creation of Frederick's of Hollywood. The tag line ought to be: It's a sauna party in your pants every day, with Sauna Trim! And if you really were going to get 3 to 6 inches off in a week, you'd probably have to wear that thing all week long. Imagine how much fun that would be! I believe the couple pictured has been wearing them for a at least three days, judging by their expressions.

And they may be planning to get out of the house in their Sauna Shorts, since the picture below shows the woman in a dress with (presumably) the Shorts of Doom underneath. I don't know how that guy is going to get his polyester leisure suit on over the Sauna Shorts, though.

I'm sure that people in 1971 were convinced by this ad - convinced that they would be way better off just... going to the gym.

A Likely Story!

Imagine this: you've just moved to a new neighborhood and you don't know anybody and - gosh, they're having a big party next door with lights and Santa Claus hats and balloons and - gee, Mom, they even probably have cake and stuff  over there!

If only if only if only you were invited! But you don't even know who those people are and they don't know you from - well, a hole in the wall. And you don't see many holes jumping off their walls and going out at night, do you?

Then Mom reminds you of your social trump card: that harmonica of yours! Why, you've been taking lessons since - oh, about two weeks ago. And Mom and Dad think you are the swellest of the swell.

Boy, they say, you sound just like a real Professional Harmonica Player. No, really. There really probably are some. And you could definitely be a Professional Harmonica Player when you grow up! And you'd play at Carnegie Hall and everyone would applaud and -

But what was that noise? Why, as soon as you start playing your best piece -  a swinging version of "Three Blind Mice" -  guess who comes ding-donging at the door? Just the whole darn party, that's all! And they will beg your mom to let you go over there too. Oh please, they will cry, please tell Billy to bring his harmonica!

And boy oh boy, you'd go over and everyone would crowd around you while you tootle out songs. And forever after you'd be the most popular boy in the history of anywhere! Plus everyone else will want a harmonica, too. In fact, they'll want to form a harmonica band! Bet you might not be quite so popular with their parents, but never mind.

Really. It could totally happen. Keep on playing for Mom and Dad and see if someone doesn't come pounding on the door to ask you to go somewhere!

[Many thanks to newhousedesign at Flickr for this gem, which looks like 1930s-40s vintage.]

More Books: The 1930s Home and The 1940s Home

The 1930s Home
by Greg Stevenson
Oxford: Shire Publications, 2009
40 pp.



The 1940s Home
by Paul Evans and Peter Doyle
Oxford: Shire Publications, 2009
48 pp.

These two informative books, companions to The 1950s Home which I reviewed here last week (the link is at the end of this review), give the retro enthusiast a comprehensive look at the British home in the middle decades of the 20th century. Lavishly illustrated with photographs, ephemera and wonderful period advertisements, all three of these books take one through a good overview of British architectural design, house construction, furnishings and decor, and gardens. 

The 1930s house, whether a suburban villa, a Moderne bungalow or a "Tudorbethan" mock-historical semi, was a charming blend of old and new styles which still holds up well in today's housing market. Houses were built in quantity for new home-owners who took advantage of good mortgages and good prices. The homes reflected the smaller, servantless households of the 1930s, with fitted kitchens and well-lit, efficient spaces.

The 1940s was, of course, a decade dominated by wartime shortages and hardships. So it is no surprise that a good part of The 1940s House is dedicated to discussing items such as bomb shelters, blackout curtains, and the simple, modern and rather attractive Utility furniture which the British householder could purchase with ration coupons. Though, as Evans and Doyle point out, the 1940s are often remembered as a drab, dull period in house decor and design, this is not entirely so. Shortages forced designers to create furnishings and kitchenware from interesting materials- such as aluminum and plastics. The streamlined look of decor presaged the modern, forward-looking ideals of 1950s design.

I very much enjoyed reading all three of these books and would recommend them to anyone interested in the history of mid-20th century British homes. Stevenson also lists "Places To Visit' and a short bibliography at the end of The 1930s House, which is most helpful. My review of The 1950s House is here, and all of these books may be ordered from Shire Books.

Under The Bamboo and Fake Orange Tree

The Thursday Thirteen turns crafty as we discover what 13 things you will have to do if you want your bathroom to look like this one. This eye-popping space is from Decorating For Under $100 (1971), from the decor wizards over at Better Homes and Gardens. Not, you will note, Better Homes and Bathrooms.

1. Make a striped awning from a shower curtain.

2. Oh, and you'd better make a roofing structure under it. You can pretend you are in a hut on a tropical island, that just happens to have a bathtub for a floor.

3. Now paint some really long dowels yellow. They are going to be bamboo tree trunks!

4. These are special bamboo trees that bear oranges.  Special, fake ones. So you will also have to make many, many fake oranges.

5. Oh, don't worry, it is very easy! Just take lots of styrofoam balls. Then put loads of messy papier mache all over them. Leave them to dry - I guess you'll have to hang them up somehow. And then spray-paint them orange and hang them from the fake bamboo tree by paper clips.

6. If there are trees, there must be leaves. You have to have leaves! These are made from "two layers of velvet adhesive-backed paper." No problem, I'm sure you can just pop down to the store and get some of that.

7. Next, you will embroider leaves and flowers on the rug. That's what Better Homes and Gardens says you have to do!

8. Oh, and also you will embroider the toilet-seat cover. Yes, you will too, if you want a trendy 1970s look (don't answer that).

9. The guest soaps have to look like mini oranges. Please shop endlessly until you find some. The guests, of course, must never use them: (a) because they are guest soaps and (b) because it will take you many months to find orange ones.

10. "Flowers on shelf were a craft project." Yes, I'm sure they were. Courtesy of the nearest kindergarten.

11. The tissue holder is a shoebox covered in fur that was shed by the Cookie Monster. I'm not sure how you're going to collect it, but maybe you know someone at Channel 13 (oh look, another Thursday 13!). The Cookie Monster Tissue Box  is on that yellow shelf unit at the right. It is very shaggy (the box, not the shelf).

12. You can leave the brown and beige tiles alone. Yes, you really don't have to paint them orange. You have done enough.

13. Now, take a long hard look at what you have done. You will think that maybe - just maybe - it is time to redecorate. Again.

Arnold Makes the Grade

Lucille [to self]: The teacher will never guess what I'm bringing for Show and Tell!

[later...]

Lucille: My Show and Tell today is - Arnold! Arnold, come on up here. Don't be shy. This is my friend Arnold, who is a giant Dairylea milk carton. He walked me to school today and I was real safe because the school bus was the only thing on the road and Arnold is fifty times bigger than the bus.

Also we were OK because Mary and her little lamb were out working as crossing guards. See how they are looking a little bit mad at me? That is because I'm right smack in the middle of the road. And that would not have been very safe if there was any traffic.

See #4 of the Code of Safety? It says not to cross in the middle of the street. That was all Arnold's fault. He said because he is a giant milk carton he can do whatever he likes and all the other dairy products are scared of him. And that he could eat the teensy school bus for a snack, it is that teeny!

Arnold: Um, hello? Can I just say something here for a minute? I should not even be crossing a street because I have no peripheral vision. Looking sideways is way safer than having painted eyes that google straight ahead. And I wanted to stay home anyway because - well, I stole these shoes from Minnie Mouse (don't ask) and I can't walk so well even in a low heel. Say Lucille, next time you ought to let me stay in the giant refrigerator at home. For the next Show and Tell, you know what? You ought to bring Mommy and Daddy. If you think I'm real big - boy, you ought to see these folks. Lucille is sort of our Stuart Little, you see, one day she just showed up and -

Lucille:  I knew this would be a big mistake.

From LiveJournal.

In A Divinely Super Lather

Lady, you know, you probably just need to get out more. I know what it's like - getting into the same routine day after day (tell me about it!) and - you know - doing the same things, going to the same places.

But when you start cuddling the soap suds, it's probably time to take a little vacation.

These are ordinary soap suds, you see. Not "beauty lather." Not divine, not super. Not new.

Not like "washing with spring rain." Rain is not soapy (if it is, you may want to consider a water filter). And if it rinses thoroughly, that really shouldn't be a surprise. This is what soap does. You lather up, you scrub a little, you rinse. The end.

Super-creamed, super-lovely, super-loopy. Just put the soap suds down, dear, and go lie down. We understand. Everyone has days like this. Only - we don't all start playing with bars of soap.

[This charmingly wacky 1948 ad is from Ad Access.]

Pretty Fly For A Hi-Fi

Questions - so many questions. And so few answers, really:

-Why would anyone want to ride around on a broom in evening clothes?

-Who exactly were The Three Suns? [Answer:  instrumental lounge music group, active circa 1939-1959. Thank you, Wikipedia!]

-How can this little album have "everything"? What does that even mean? I can think of many, many things it does not have in it. Socks, paper clips, junk mail. That's three things right there!

-Why add in The World's Largest Pipe Organ? How does this set a romantic mood? Although perhaps the blast from it is what is levitating that broom.

-What sort of "new mood" do they want to set in mood music? I'm thinking the mood will be either (a) Earsplitting Headache (see World's Largest Pipe Organ), (b) Free Floating Anxiety (see: perched on broomstick in fancy outfit) or (c) Short Circuited (because this is Electrifying Sound).

-And not only is this priced at a special low, low price but there's bonus poetry, too: Hi Fi Buy!

January's Hi Fi Buy!
Like a tea tray in the sky.
Lady, don't you wonder why
Your broom swept up that random guy?
He'll make it difficult to fly.

[From Life, January 7, 1957.]

A Whisper of Capiscum

Snider's is different because we simmer in a whisper of capiscum, the high-spirited chili pepper. It puts the zing in Snider's, gives food a bright new lift. You already know what the others taste like. Now, try Snider's.

Hail, capiscum catsup,
Whispering as it simmers,
Zinging through the bottle -
Through the glass it glimmers:

Orangy and spicy!
Dump it on your chop,
Pour it on the baked beans
There's more at the shop.

That capiscum pepper
Whispers, then it shouts:
Pour me on your pancakes,
Silence all your doubts.

As for normal ketchups
Everybody knows
Plain tomato boredom
Which makes dinners doze.

Kitchens will awaken
And capitulate to saucy
Essence of capiscum
As bright as it is bossy.

Diners' heads exploding
With a burst of Snider;
Serve with fire extinguishers,
And a quart of cider.

 ******
The ad is from Life, January 25, 1960. The text seemed so bizarrely poetic - I always wonder who wrote these things!

I'm thinking of expanding into posting some classic commercials as well as print ads, and maybe also ads on things like matchbooks and other odd places. The rest of my retro stuff will be posted over on The Doubletake, at least for now.

******
I am considering returning to Entrecard in order to drop on my favorite blogs - I miss that EC toolbar!  - but to use it mainly for that, not to drop eleventy-thousand cards a day like I was. It will enable me to visit more of the people I want to visit, as well as get writing done - and that's my main intention.

Fashion For Teen Pixies, 1968

This is from a funny little magazine called The Workbasket (September, 1968).I found a couple of these magazines last summer on vacation, and - well, one of them has several very silly fruitcake ads that I will share with you in December.

But for now - there are silly knitting patterns, like this one.

I was almost six in September 1968 and I wore some pretty silly things (hello, droopy knee socks and thick hair ribbons!) - but even I would not have left the house wearing this. That a teenager would willingly wear this is hard to believe.

Though I suppose you could cut off the pink bobbles on the way to school. Don't forget to put your school scissors in your knapsack, kids!

If you'd like the directions for this, the big image is over here on my Flickr.

An Unlucky Strike

I really, really, really do not want to know what this guy's wind is like. Well, or anyone's.

Look at him: a creepy, staring, disembodied head, talking on and on about what splendid shape his - ahem - wind is in. It doesn't seem to make him very happy, though.

Which would make two of us.

I don't think the Luckies are the only thing that's toasted.

[From LiveJournal.]

How Jaws' Grandma Spent Her Vacation

This is, of course, Jaws' grandma summering on Nantucket in the summer of 1937, accepting the accolades of the crowd. She looks a little cranky. She might need a snack or a cup of tea. This is always good when that cranky feeling hits around the middle of the afternoon!

Would you believe that this was part of an elaborate hoax? How could it have possibly fooled anyone? That thing looks like it was part of a carnival midway. See here at Cabinet of Wonders and over at the Nantucket Historical Society's Flickr page for more.

Postcard from the same, the NHA's collection at Flickr.

Besandwitched

Ann Page is going to make peanut butter and jelly sound exciting. This will take more than a little wand waving. But intrepid Ann has put on her little orange witch's hat and is ready to go. Too bad her lower half didn't materialize. She needs to work on that.

She is going to transform us cynical muggles, so that we will be hurrying to the A&P as fast as we can, filling our shopping carts to the brim with glass jars of spreadable stuff.

Let the magic begin! Let's see what's on the retro craft table at Hogwarts back in the days when Dumbledore's beard was merely stubble:

Fruit Fingers: Toast strips with jelly and coconut on them. (You will have to throw a bag of coconut into the cart, too.)

Roll-Ups: Bread, peanut butter and chopped watercress. Roll it up like an old rug so no one can see the watercress. (Oh, better put watercress on the list, too. Or perhaps not.)

French Squares: Jelly sandwiches dipped in egg and fried. French toast with jelly, basically. In squares. Hence the name.

Salad Dainties: Chicken salad sandwiches with lettuce (OK) and fruit preserves (not OK). Ann must be getting tired at this point. Things are getting into the wrong places!

And finally:

Sandwich Hints (or possibly Mints, the scan is hard to read): Peanut butter with chopped prunes in it, on bread, plus apple slices. This is not something I would hint about. Also a sandwich is not a hint. Not unless you drop it on someone's head, of course.

Important: Do not forget the apple-cheese-cube-and-olive porcupine centerpiece, whatever you do. Just tell the house elves to make a note of it.

[From Life, October 15, 1951. Want to see the big version? Come on over here! Yeah, I will make more of my Flickr images public, in the near future.]

Book Review: The 1950s Home

I am so pleased to have the opportunity to review several books from Shire Books, here and also at The Virtual Dime Museum, in the weeks to come. Here is the first:

Sophie Leighton
The 1950s Home
Oxford: Shire Publications, 2009
56 pp.

Among the wonders exhibited at the 1955 Daily Mail Ideal Home Show in Britain was a living room fitted with sliding doors, behind which were tucked two bunk beds. This perfectly modern invention that made a virtue of necessity, typified the British philosophy of home-making and decorating in the 1950s.

The end of World War II in 1945 and of rationing in the early 1950s allowed for massive social change and growth in that decade. Sophie Leighton, a curator at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, writes about this change in house design and furnishings, decor and gardens with precision and clarity. She notes the transition to smaller, cleverly utilized spaces, clean 'modern' lines in furniture, and multi-purpose gardens. She illustrates her points with wonderful old ads which themselves typify the bright, streamlined look of 'modern' decor. The black and white photographs are evocative, too - especially those of the new council houses and flats, which look both new and bleak.

The 1950s saw a new emphasis on light and clean spaces in homes. Homes tended to be smaller than in earlier eras, and rooms were used for several purposes as opposed to, say, a dining room in a Victorian house used only for dining. Open-plan houses were designed with efficiency and variety of purpose in mind.

Housing shortages after the war led to the construction of council houses and flats, as well as pre-fabs made of such odd materials as steel and asbestos cement sheeting. Furniture and decor took on a minimalist, sleek look. Most families, though, mixed their older pieces with the new - just as we do now. Most people could not afford to entirely modernize their homes. The improvements they did make were supported by the new magazines which explained decor and DIY, such as Practical Householder.

In The 1950s Home, Leighton packs a great deal of information into a small book, beautifully - just as the interior designers and architects of the 1950s did when creating the homes of that era.

The Usual Drugstore Gossip

The Complete Letter Writer (1957) by N.H. and S.K. Mager is full of examples of - well, letters of course. You knew that.

But what makes this book special is the bizarre, soap-operatic detail in the imaginary letters. They are like mini short stories; a lot of thought went into them, you can tell.

Here's one of the many that I was intrigued by. Betty, who has moved away from Janesville (perhaps to get away from the letter writer), is going to get this missive from a nameless pal. Let's take this one paragraph at a time:

1. The Big Car News. Yeah, this is more important than asking Betty how she is. Is one not supposed to do that in a letter, preferably in paragraph one? Also I want to know about Paul and his wild driving on Slate Hill. He has a rakish side, buying that bright yellow convertible, does he not? Mid-life crisis alert, possibly.

2. Next paragraph: invite yourself for summer vacation to the friend's house. They will be honking the horn, too! Betty, you'd better stock up on Jell-O.

3. Gossip Item #1: Bart Evans new wife, from Europe yet. Mucho gushing, such a lovely girl, delicious cake etc. Translation: she isn't quite what we look for in a Slate Hill matron. They only rented a "little" house. That little "gay Viennese operetta" remark is a little double-edged. "Can Lisa cook!" What in the name of fancy gelatin molds does that mean? Well, can she? Hmmm. I guess she can make Linzer Torte, anyway.

This ends with a virtuoso bragging remark about how multicultural and gourmet the writer is, she can make that Linzer Thingie too. Take that, Lisa!

4. Gossip Item #2, AKA The Usual Drugstore Gossip. Because we all hang around the Janesville Pharmacy like teenagers, ripping the neighbors to shreds. Hence the little dating item, and then the zinger about Mrs. Thelan painting her house bright pink. Otherwise, it's all pretty boring here.

5. In fact, it's SO boring, we wish you'd come back, Betty. You and Stan generated half the hot topics in Janesville! (She doesn't say this, but I'll just bet it's true). Alas, Betty and Mr. Betty are in Zenith now. Isn't that the town where famous fictional bore George F. Babbitt lived? Stan's probably his nephew. George Babbitt did generate a lot of gossip in the second half of the Sinclair Lewis novel, actually (he calmed down at the end and got boring again).

Betty is going to read this and promptly write back to her dear friend, the shocking pink Mrs. Thelan. I hope so. I would love to see a letter from her.

The Klipette? We'll Skip It

"Don't pull hair from nose!"
So say the Newark pundits
Wise in nasal hair.

Hollis of Newark!
It is not necessary
To instruct us thus.

There is no desire
On anyone's part at all
To annoy the nose.

"Safe, smooth, efficient"
Evokes thoughts of skin lotion,
Not serrated tubes.

Please cease and desist!
Keep the Klipettes far away,
Warehoused in Newark.

Juke Box Racket

"Friends and Relatives Will Help You Out, Just To See How It Works!...Bring it out at parties or when company comes to call."

Bow ties may light up and be jazzy but honestly - they can't shill for cold cash like this, can they? No, they cannot.

So the next time you are heading out to a party, don't forget to take your Juke Box Bank. It will be a little awkward trying to stuff it into your evening clutch but really, it will pay off!

Why? Because everyone wants to put cash money into that thing. At first I thought that that was because if you put money in it played music: "Money (That's What I Want)," perhaps, or "Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend."

But no. It just lights up and flashes the little truism,"It's Wise To Be Thrifty."

Apparently, it's also wise to take advantage of all these trusting, sweet people you know who will keep sticking money in the Juke Box Bank just to "see how it works." They will thrill to the sight of it "lighting up electrically." And soon your nickels and dimes will turn into mighty dollar bills." Because this is just going to be the hit of the party. Oh, the manufacturer also suggests that you haul it out "when company comes to call." But after a few rounds of Juke Box Jackpot, there might not be a lot of company calling.

[This 1948 back-of-the-comic-book ad is from Wikimedia Commons.]

This post is part of Retro Tuesday hosted by my friend Tracy at The Crazy Suburban Mom, one of my daily must-reads.