What A New Year's Eve This Will Make!

Here are two extremely fun and exciting ideas to make your New Year's Eve party a - well, a retrospectacular (yeah, I like that word, I just made it up the other day, thought I could use it again here). Even though the visuals are in black and white, you can just imagine the bright and wacky sight that these two party necessities will bring to your house.

Oh yes, they will bring the fun all right! Because really, what else do you need for a fun evening with your guests besides (a) fabulous decorations and (b) a really clever, and sturdy, refreshment area?

You can make a lovely checkered open bar out of cardboard cartons! And the best part is the name that the Popular Mechanics writer thought up for it, back in December 1963. Are you ready? It is called a One Night Stand. I think maybe that writer was making a joke, don't you? Pretty racy for 1963, eh what?

This certainly is going to be some party!

And wait 'til you see the balloons. You will love them, because you do not stick them on a wall and forget them, oh no. You will be wearing them as hats. This ad is from a 1947 Billboard, by the way, a bit anachronistic with regards to the One Night Stand, but so what, it's going to be the most amazing party of the year. Of the decade! Or as the Lee-Tex party experts so rightly say - and I really think this sums everything up - What a New Year's Eve this will make!

Hope you have a terrific New Year's Eve, wherever you land on the Cardboard-Bar-Balloon-Hat Celebration Spectrum. See you next year (tomorrow) with just one more New Year's resolution that I don't think you have even considered. I really am pretty sure you haven't, anyway...

[If you want to see how to make the One Night Stand, ahem,you can go right over here and have a look.]

You Say You Want A Resolution

Yessiree! It's time to put down that mince pie and start thinking about Moo Year's resolutions. I mean, New Year's resolutions. Elsie the Cow will be delighted to help you. She has a few suggestions:

1. No more eating mince pies while perching on a ladder, sonny! You are supposed to be dealing with the Christmas tree. I'm not sure if it's being decorated or decimated, maybe both, but either way, it's no time for snacks.

2. No more jolly chats with imaginary cows, even if you are Elwood P. Dowd's farmer cousin. And when you meet Elmer, Elsie's rageball husband, you will see why this is such a good idea. You really don't want to get into anything with Elmer, believe me.

3. Oh, and maybe you ought to think about a No Silly Suspenders resolution, too. And No White Socks With Black Shoes. And as for those pants...

[pause]

Yes, all right. That was lightly amusing. (The Elsie ad is from Life, November 22, 1943, by the way.) But what about real resolutions?

Oh, I have some of those. I'll bet you do, too. Here are just a few of mine:

1. Say, remember NaNoWriMo back in November, says I to myself? Try and think a-l-l-l-l-l-l the way back to November...oh yeah! Mystery novel, Brooklyn, 1890s, Eleanor Grey, Intrepid Girl Detective? Called Frozen Charlotte. (Not Frozen Eleanor, of course, how could she solve a murder mystery if she was frozen?)

How about writing that second draft. Because it really needs some work. Yessiree! A lot of work. A terrible, awful lot of-

2. ...Work! Got it.

Moving on. Literally. Because! Got a pedometer for Christmas, to replace the one I lost because it fell off when I was running and it sort of flipped off and by the time I noticed it was too late. Start using the pedometer again. Yes, now. Now! Now!

...Well, not right now, I am writing this. But you know what I mean.

3. Healthy eating, blah blah blah. Not mince pies, obviously. Good thing I don't even like mince pies.

4. There are probably some other things but I forget what they are. They go here. I think they have to do with managing stress, but can't really remember. Too stressed, probably.

So there you go...And now if you go over to Nanny Goats In Panties (which is such a terrific, funny blog, you really should pay a visit even if you don't have any resolutions) - you can join the This Time I Really Mean It challenge.

Please do tell, what are you going to promise to do (or not do) in 2010?  At this point, you know, we're just making the resolutions, we don't have to actually do anything yet, so it will be fun! And just to get in the mood, we can listen a live version of John Lennon's yes-I-do/no-I-don't homage to change, Revolution. Notice how he sings "you can count me out" and then says "in." I think we all know just what he means.

Slymlastik Fantastic

Chili Bouchier* - under whose name I would like to write saucy Hollywood gossip, while wearing a smart little 1930s hat and holding an ivory cigarette holder (all the better to point out scandals from my table at the Stork Club) - has got something very special for you today. It is a beautiful massaging corset made by a woman called Nurse Sinclair.

Nurse Sinclair is never seen in the ad, she is the Wizard of Oz of corsetry, hidden behind the black background, telling Chili Bouchier when to slouch (on the left) and when to stand up straight and suck in her stomach (on the right).

Behold the Slymlastik! 
Which saves you from doing anything gymnastic; 
And that's because it's made of supersonic elastic. 
In a word, it is jolly well fantastic.

As you can see. See how much happier Chili looks on the right? She went from Mae West to Jean Harlow in - probably in about half an hour. It takes about that long to wrestle the Slymlastik on.

But why does it take 10 whole days to lose 3 inches? Because the Slymlastik "massages" the fat away. And that is going to take it a few days. Doesn't that make you feel glamorous and special? As Chili says:

I must certainly advise slender women to try the Slymlastik.

If you are not slender Chili doesn't know what you are going to do. She'll get back to you on that one.

Big version here; from British women's magazine Woman's Journal, May 1937.

*Chili Bouchier was a famous movie actress in England in the 1930s.

High and Dryskin

This lady is disproportionally excited about Sofskin hand lotion. Since she comes from 1950s Adland, this is not a big surprise. They are constantly worked up about products there.

I had a great uncle who lived in Hollis (it is in Queens, not Long Island as the ad says), which is where this lady comes from. I don't think that my great uncle (who was exceedingly dry in more ways than one) ever experienced the miracle of Sofskin. She must have been keeping this a secret from the rest of the neighborhood.

Still, her joy is beyond dispute and indeed rather frightening. Ah, such manic glee, such bug-eyed rapture over a bottle of lotion.

But the letdown will come soon enough, just like (oh wait, here comes the tie-in with the holiday season!) - post-Christmas letdown. The slide towards New Year's, when you've played with all your new stuff a lot, and maybe exchanged some of it. And you're getting real sick of turkey. And maybe even a little bit sick of chocolates (I know it is hard to imagine). Unless that lotion is leaving a residue of diamond rings and $100 bills on your hands, you will get bored by it, definitely.

I'd like to see the letdown version of this ad. She's just sitting there, going "Meh, Sofskin works, I guess. But I still have to do all these stupid dishes!"

*****
I've been thinking about merging Doubletake into Kitchen Retro and making Kitchen Retro into one multi-faceted, multi-dimensional retroganza, so I will be importing the best Doubletake posts here and maybe redesigning things a little to help you all find different categories of retro stuff on the site. I'll be tinkering with things in the next few weeks, so there may be a little dust and clutter around. So, just like my bookshelves and desk. I'll let you know what's happening as I go along.

The Sofskin lady is from the amazing archives of LiveJournal (big version over there, of course) - and  many thanks to the people who post those incredible ads over there!

It's Fun To Play With Hasbro!

Oh, certainly it is fun. But the potatoes are not included in your Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head set, boys and girls. Your mommies will have to get you some at the grocery store! So let me ask you this: if you take, say, an apple or a banana, and stick Mr. or Mrs. Potato Head plastic ears, nose, mouth and eyes on them, are they not Mr. Apple and Mrs. Banana? Why does the commercial still call them all Mr. and Mrs. Potatoes?

I am also concerned that the real-potato Potatoes will have trouble enjoying their trailer, because of size and gravity issues. They are just too big and heavy, they will crush that thing for sure. Better use little new potatoes, or even blueberries or grapes, if you get the trailer.

The ad is from Dave's Cool Toys, by the way, where there is also some excellent Potato Head history, if you would like to delve more deeply into this.

The Hasbro commercial goes on to rave about makeup kits and doctor and nurse kits that they have on offer, too. I would have liked those Hasbro play makeup kits as a kid, no question. I saw a non-Hasbro one in our neighborhood candy store* in New York City that I longed for (and finally got). But it was not as fancy as the Hasbro variety. The carrying case was white vinyl with gold speckles (like a kitchen counter) and there was a plastic lipstick in it and not a whole lot else. I was thrilled, though. It was 1966, this was the epitome of glamour in my world!

Candy stores are totally retro New York and I will write about them here, too. They sold candy, of course, and newspapers, magazines, and cheap toys and paperbacks; and there was usually a soda fountain. There are probably a few left, but not many.

Uncle Ned Drops Through

Uncle Ned
The disembodied head
Is one relation
Who causes some consternation
For when he comes to call
He simply bashes through the exterior wall
To hear him confess it, he
Has made a virtue of necessity:
Since a talking head will always be discussed
He feels that a dramatic entrance is a must.

Yet crashing through
is really no disaster:
He never fails to bring
a hostess gift of Rutland plaster;
And Cousin Sue,
though in a rather fancy dress
Is always able
to patch up the mess.

But save some Rutland, Sue!
For everyone knows
Ned also likes to leave a big impression
when he goes.

[Ad from Popular Science, April 1941.]

Everyone's Present Accounted For

Around the Christmas tree today
These costumed people like to stay
They're looking for a gift that's great
I hope they all like Papermate!

Cousin Al thinks he's a Spanish Dancer
Stomping and olé-ing is his answer
To every tricky situation
And nothing jogs his concentration;

And then there's Cousin Mary Jean
Her mom calls her The Teenage Queen
She's hoping for a lot of things
More fancy than our Santa brings;

And please, Aunt Millie, do not sing
We'd rather you do anything
Than prove you are a great Soprano -
Just have another Mint Milano!

Dear Uncle Bob, though no Tycoon
Will tell another story soon
About his clever business dealing
Blind to the doldrums we are feeling;

Dad's not a Riveter at all
He got that hat down at the mall;
He does not long to hammer and build
Or even mop up drinks he's spilled.

Grandmother is a tad askew
She hasn't got enough to do,
So points out everyone's mistakes
And pokes at all the Christmas cakes.

Some Little Gentleman is Chad!
He quite delights in being bad;
So mind the turkey and the tree
Do not fall subject to his glee.

And here's a Beatnik in the crowd
He's bearded but not very loud
Reciting from Jack Kerouac
Hovering somewhere in the back

He might be someone's boyfriend or
Perhaps just wandered through the door
Reciting his poem "Beat Heebie-Jeebies,"
Fresh from a run at CBGB's.

Now that we're all trytophan sedated
I wonder how we're all related?
We gave them all cheap ballpoint pens.
Thank goodness they look so dazed and dense.

******
Hope you are all having a lovely day! My coffeecake exploded in the tube pan yesterday, it was exactly like Lucy Ricardo baking that enormous loaf of bread in "Pioneer Women." I really ought to know better, I've seen that episode a few million times. But I think we managed to save it - I dumped it onto a baking tray and now it looks like a free form sort of pie thing. Edible, though. And icing is helpful - especially if you think of it as makeup for baked goods. I know I do.

******
The Papermate ad is from Graphic Design -TJS Labs, Life, December 14, 1959.

The Annual Christmas Pop-Up

Yes, it does pop up once a year, doesn't it? Though perhaps not quite like this. It isn't Halloween anymore, Santa - you're not supposed to jump out from piles of things and scare people.

Actually this lady just looks bemused, not scared or annoyed (the way I would be if he tried this out on me). She's probably his wife and has seen him do this many times before. In fact, this is very likely to be the Wembley tie couple from yesterday. She has that pursed-mouth expression down very nicely, all right.

Anyway, I want to wish you all a wonderful and amazing holiday! You might want to put out some extra eggnog, though, because Santa looks like he could use a little sit-down and some refreshments.

[From Life, November 10, 1952.]

Alice B. Toklas and Liberation Through Fruitcake

I am illustrating this with a lovely 1950s ad* for candied fruit. I don't know why, but I like this ad so much that it very nearly makes me want to go bake something with candied fruit in it. I do have some in the cupboard. But the impulse will probably pass.

I think it will, because I have just seen the recipe for writer/culinary expert/Gertrude Stein companion Alice B. Toklas' Liberation Cake. Do you have any idea of what Alice expects us to do in order to make a so-called Liberation Cake? Let me boil down her instructions (which are even longer than the following ten points):

1. The day before, sliver up 1 1/2 lbs citron and a pound of candied cherries. Wash and dry 2 pounds of white currants and then cover them with brandy. Oh, and blanch, dry and chop a pound and a half of almonds.

2. Next day, rouse yourself and cream a pound of sugar with a pound of butter. Add 12 egg yolks, one by one. Drain and dry off the currants. Add them to the citron and cherries. Sift a pound of flour over the fruits and stir it in so they don't stick together. Then sieve the whole thing to get rid of the extra flour.

3. Take the flour you got rid of - don't throw it out! - and add: 2 tsps cinnamon, 1 tsp mace, 1 tsp nutmeg and 1/2 tsp cloves. Now sift it into the egg/sugar/butter mixture, in small amounts, stirring after each bit. Add the almonds...which she says are now ground almonds although the instructions are to chop them. When did they get ground? Never mind, chuck them in along with a cup of your best brandy and 3/4 cup orange-flower or rose water, whichever you have handy.

4. No, you're not done yet. Not by a long shot, mister or missy. Now beat up 12 egg whites - oh yeah, you were supposed to save those. Beat them up  - I don't know for how long, Alice does not say. But fold them into the batter lightly when you think they look OK. Now fold in the fruits.  Chuck the batter into pans that you have lined with buttered brown paper. Oh - you haven't done that yet? Better get busy!

5. Bake for 4 hours. It doesn't day how many pans you'll need but the recipe does make 12 pounds of fruitcake. During those 4 hours, you may want to collapse onto the nearest sofa. Make sure you are awake when the oven timer goes off, though.

6. No, you're nowhere near being done now that they're out of the oven. You must put on a full inch of almond paste and then the usual royal icing goes on top of that.

7. You need to have already made the almond paste, buddy. Take 1/2 pound of blanched and dried almonds in a mortar and pound them into a paste. Add to this a pound of sugar and a teaspoon each of vanilla and orange-flower water. Stir over low heat until smooth. This must be done in a heavy enamel saucepan. If you do not have one, stop and go out to buy one. When done, turn it onto a marble slab (if you do not have one, you know what to do) and knead in a couple of tablespoons of powdered sugar.

8. OK, I think you're about done now.

9. Feel liberated, don't you?

10.That's why it is called Liberation Cake.

*From Life, December 8, 1952. The recipe for Liberation Cake is from my 1964 Doubleday paperback edition of The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook (first pub. 1954), p. 236.

The Best Tie To Wear In A Blizzard

This here is no ordinary tie: it's a Nor-East tie! Strong enough to withstand a Nor'easter (in case you happen to out in a formal-dress-only winter storm). It is uncrushable, this tie. Probably made of asbestos, too.

File this gift idea along with the Jade East: the inevitable Christmas Tie! Yes, that's the ticket. Get him a tie. Guys sure love getting ties, right? You can't see this man's face, but I am sure he looks thrilled. The woman looks startled. Maybe she forgot what she bought him. Maybe she's stunned that he actually likes it.

I'm stunned that Wembley thinks a tie needs to be strong enough to withstand being crushed and stamped on and twisted up by a pro wrestler and knotted like a rope on a commercial fishing boat. I mean, you put on a tie, it just stays there, right? The most trauma it ever gets is the odd splash of tomato sauce from those three-martini business lunches.

If you get a guy two ties you can reenact the old joke where the mother gets her son two ties.  He wears one the next day. She gives him a look and sighs: So - I guess you didn't like the other one.

[From Life, December 8, 1952. Larger version over here.]

A Blizzard of Downyflakes

It's contest time again!

Downyflake Waffles, whose name is more suitable to wash powder (and best not delve into that too deeply) want you to complete a sycophantic quatrain, and they're willing to make your pockets jingle with anywhere from $10 to $5000 dollars. That was a lot of money in 1956; my mother's grocery bill around this time was $10 a week in New York City, so you can translate that into 2009 money. And as for the $5000, it was a year's grocery money. In other words, it was a whole lot of dough (or waffle batter).

But I don't like the idea of the jingling pockets too much because this implies that you're getting the prize money in Downyflake's leftover change. I guess they went around to everyone in the company asking for loose pennies and nickels. You'd be jingling all right if you won $5000 in pennies, would you not?

So here's the deal. You're supposed to finish this little poetic gem:

Frozen Downyflake 1-Minute Waffles
With homemakers really do rate
Wonderfully tasty, so simple to serve....

-You'll want to eat seven or eight
-They get cold if you leave them too late
-No thank you, I already ate
-That aftertaste soon will abate
-Those downy flakes sure wash clothes great!*


There are some rhymes for rate over here, if you want to give it a bash.

And if you'd like more retro contest amusement, here's an Old Dutch Cleanser jingle contest and a caption-the-baby-picture contest. The enormous version of the ad is over here; this is from Life, September 24, 1956 (which gave you a couple of months to think of jingles).

*They may not choose this one as part of their advertising campaign, though.

Glen Plaid Gauchos And An Entertaining Little Jumpsuit

Well, you know, Simplicity, women actually wore trousers prior to 1970. Blue jeans in the 50s and 60s, and polyester pants, things like that.

But this picture, from one of my mother's sewing booklets (dated 1970) is so much fun I had to share it with you. The copy is fun, too (link to big version where you can read it is below). Simplicity suggests "glen plaid gauchos to shop in, [and] a striped jersey wool jumpsuit to entertain in." It is guaranteed that you'll be very entertaining wearing a striped knee-length jumpsuit. And the pale-blue glen plaid gauchos are also amusing.

I need to wrap all the presents today (which will translate into wrapping some of them, but as many as possible, anyway) so this will be a quick post. I can't wait to do some posts on the fabulously nutty retro cookbook I found last week - I don't want to spoil anything but we will all be learning to make wheelbarrows out of toast, for one thing.

I might wait until after Christmas for that. We will probably need a few extra laughs in January, when all the eggnog is gone and the tree is down and so on.

For today - dig those gauchos! And the laced-up boots the legs in the middle are wearing - are they not fabulous? If only I could find those in a secondhand store...

The big version is here. And here is some bonus Monday music from the album Gaucho by Steely Dan from 1980, "Hey Nineteen." In my case it would have been Hey, Eighteen. Close enough.

Santa Takes A Break

The dog is really cute. Love the doggie! He is not taking any breaks though, no sir, though he will be pretty soon, I hope.  He might not want to wear that outfit for too long. Kudos and a large dog biscuit to you, my friend.

But the Jolly Life Size Santa? I find him a little - off-putting. What's he doing hanging around outside the house, anyway? Shouldn't he be getting things ready for the 24th? I know I am. Wrapping, panicking, tidying up, trying to find that terrific gift I bought back in September and hid in such a great place that now I can't find it (true story).

The Life Size Santa is 5'9" (which is "almost six feet tall," apparently - maybe he has 3" heels on those boots) and you stuff him full of newspaper and place him in a lounging position by your door. Or on your roof or "by the fireplace" (mind the plastic though).

But I kind of like how he's sitting on the fence, looking so carefree, even though it's his Busy Season. He must know some good relaxation secrets. Or else he's delegated everything to the elves. He is the CEO after all. And he was made in Miami, so he's probably been in Florida all year, relaxing.

Maybe he could just come inside for a minute and help me find that gift I hid so well last fall.

[From Life, November 19, 1971. Really big version here. Not as big as that Life-Size Santa, but still.]

Get This Party Started

Other Things This Party Needs Besides Cheap Drinks

1. Guys who don't use orange self-tanner.
2. More chairs.
3. Music.
4. Snacks.
5. Different party location. No one can socialize in a white box!

The host of this rather austere party is "noted screen and TV comedian" Jack Carter and the seated lady is his wife/co-party-host, actress Paula Stewart. I thought that the host(ess) wasn't supposed to hog the only chair.

Wikipedia says that Paula Stewart has been flying  planes since she was 17, which is really cool. She was married to Burt Bacharach in the 1950s.

At the Wikipedia link (click on her name above) you can see a bit of this very advertisement, which is from Life, December 8, 1961.

Oh, and back in 2008 I wrote a post called Get This Party Ended, which shows you the end result of the cheap drinks.

The Mystery of the Magic Fire Crayon

 Some deep philosophical questions, in no particular order:

- What are these Magic Crayons made out of?

- If it is like neon, that means it is not neon. What is it, then?

- How long does the advertising message "burn"? It has to be at least 10 seconds, because you will be making a sale in that amount of time. You "walk-in, walk-out." That is, walk in, set some shopkeeper's window on fire by writing "Everything Half Price," damage window, and walk out. Don't forget your amazing cash profit though!

- How can a "lazy man" make four sales a day, isn't he going to be busy sitting at home in his Barcalounger?

- Who is Fuller?

- And why you would be making exactly $7.65 per order? How did they arrive at that precise number?

- And finally: the math. If you make $7.65 profit with each sale, ten sales will equal a profit of $76.50, right? So how could Fuller have made $79 on only seven sales?

- Answer: The extra must have been for selling his brushes on the side.

[From Popular Science, April 1960. Another amazing product from Chicago, by the way!]

Is That A Tiny Vacuum Cleaner In Your Pocket?

Is that a tiny vacuum cleaner in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

Say it in a Mae West voice, see if he gets the little joke. What little joke? you ask. Well, looky what General Electric has for wives wanting to hint around that they would just love a nice new vacuum cleaner!

Yes, it is a miniature model of a vacuum cleaner. Your local GE dealer is waiting to hand one to you - "and it won't cost you a red cent."

So you take it home (says GE) and stick a little note inside the tiny vacuum. What will the note say? Not anything obvious like "I want this!" No, it will have the dealer's name and address on it. And then you put it in your husband's pocket and wait until he discovers it.

"Hey, that's not my keys! What - what is this? Who is this Lou Hooverific fellow? Is this some kind of funny business? Are you two-timing me with a vacuum salesman?"

But don't worry, he will catch on almost immediately. GE says so. But I'm not sure you'd know, right off the bat, how to interpret it when your spouse starts getting miniature versions of things they want and stuffing them in your pockets. You'll look at your kid's dollhouse and dolls in a whole new light now. Barbie has a nice set of fancy jewelry and luggage. On the other hand, the furniture in that dollhouse looks like someone's been chewing on it. Which isn't much different than what you've already got.

Instead of the note, maybe you'd better just write him a letter and stick it in the old vacuum cleaner. And then put that out in the hallway where he can trip over it. That'll do the trick.
  
[From Life, December 7, 1953. Big version here.

Truth Or Virginia Dare

In these days of worry, work, stress and strain we all must "keep our chins up."

Especially while drinking, 'cause if you don't keep your chin up that delicious stuff will spill right down your front.

And yes, Virginia, there really is a face in your glass of cheap wine. How did she get in there? And many glasses have you had, anyhow?

[From Life, November 22, 1943.]

P.S. The real Virginia Dare was the first English child born in the New World, in 1587.]

Here Comes Sanka Claus

Meet Uncle Joe. He is the 1940s edition of Scrooge - rich and mean - "a tight-fisted old grouch." Yeah, that sounds about right. So "we" - the cheery nephew narrating the ad -  thought it would be a "good joke" to get him to play Santa Claus at the family Christmas party.

"We" have clearly given up on that inheritance, haven't we? I don't know why Uncle Joe even agreed to it but he seems to have promised to wear a red suit and show up at 8 pm to do the Santa thing.

Guess what happens next? Uncle Joe is a no-show.

So Cheery Nephew bounces over to Uncle Joe's palace at 9:30 to find him fast asleep. Because Joe says he drank coffee the night before and didn't sleep a wink. And everyone knows that you need at least one wink of sleep per night.

After Joe grumbles and whines about coffee for awhile, the cheery young nephew suggests  - Sanka! But Uncle Joe does not get his Sanka until he has heaved himself out of his comfy chair and done a whole vaudeville ho-ho-ho act for the kiddies. He has to work for it, you know.

And the Sankafied version of Uncle Joe is able to sleep all night - untroubled by the ghosts of coffees past. He turns up again the next day, transformed into a happy, sappy bundle of goodwill, in the last picture. I see he brought at least one present, too.

Grinning and carrying one present isn't quite Scrooge on Christmas morning, cavorting and giggling and ordering large turkeys for poor folk, but it's a start.

And this ad also gives all you literary folks a little hint for your next research paper. For here is the true motivation behind Scrooge's initial bitterness and his amazing overnight transformation:

Scrooge just needed to be decaffeinated, that's all.

The great big version is over here - it'll be easier to see the whole ridiculous story there (if I put a huge image in the blog post it slows things down a lot, so it's better to do it this way). The ad is from Life, December 23, 1940.

******
Many many thanks to FeeFiFoto who suggested that I write about coffee today, in response to my Twittering about how much I needed coffee to inspire me to write another post.

And Happy Retro Tuesday! Please join my friend Tracy at The Crazy Suburban Mom for Retro Tuesday - she has an amazing Jell-O based post up today (how can you possibly resist that?)

By the way, I just noticed that Sunday's post, "Startling Detecto," was Kitchen Retro's 600th...Speaking of startling. I had no idea I'd been going on and on so much. And for so long! I know, I still need to bring the rest of the WordPress archives of Kitchen Retro over here - I'll be putting that on my New Year's Resolutions list, which is getting pretty long. We'll be talking about New Year's - well, nearer to New Year's.

Mind The Bottle, Liz

Things To Remember While Wrapping Presents

by Ersatz Elizabeth Taylor

1. Dress up in favorite at-home lounging outfit: black skintight toreador pants, a black leotard, a sparkly gold cinch belt and earrings I made myself out of the iced tops of two cupcakes.

2. Sit in awkward cross-legged position on floor. May never be able to get up again. Do not think about this.

3. Also, do not move upper arms. In fact, cannot move upper arms.

3. Place bottle of delicious, sparkling, refreshing Pepsi-Cola (without moving upper arms, of course) right near present, ribbon, wrapping paper and Scotch tape. One false move - one move of any kind at all, in fact - and it's going down! Pepsi will be everywhere. OK, better not move at all then.

4. Do not look at present I am wrapping. This is key: never look directly at the present. Do not know why, though.

5. Also do not know exactly why am I giving someone a birdcage. With a bird in it! When did I even buy this? How am I supposed to get the wrapping paper around it? What is going on?

6. Next time, try and think things through a little better.

[The bigger version is here; from Life, December 13, 1954.]

Startling Detecto

A Detecto scale is not "a perfect gift." Nor is a laundry hamper. And as for the little aluminum wastebasket - not so much, either. This ad ran during the Christmas season of 1949, so it was definitely aimed at the holiday shopper.

Most people do not associate weighing themselves with a good time during the holidays. Consider all those cookies and eggnog and chocolate Santas and so on. Who wants to unwrap a Detecto scale on Christmas morning? No one, that's who. And it comes complete with unspoken messages! Those are always fun.

Nor is a laundry hamper a wonderful gift idea - even if it is "the World's Most Beautiful Hamper." You didn't even know there was a competition among laundry hampers, did you? Well, there was -  and this is the winner. Good thing we can't see the losers. And it's also good that the dirty laundry is not included. I hope.

And finally, the aluminum waste basket. Another festive gift idea that will thrill anyone and make what Detecto calls "the supreme gift." That's what you call it if you buy the scale, hamper and waste basket as a set - supreme. Basically, you're telling the recipient that they're fat, throw dirty clothes on the floor and have a lot of trash. Hey, happy holidays!

I am sure that the recipients would think of some other words besides supreme for this.

[From Life, December 5, 1949.]

A Tale of Two Egg Nogs

This is Old Mr. Boston's best recipe for egg nog, circa 1941. OMB does want you to know that this eggnog is really festive - both Christmassy and Yulesy. And there is an extra 'g' in Nog, because it is extra good! And many, many extra capital letters. But there is something more, too. A strange ingredient. And that is the Baking Soda:

Christmas Yule Egg Nogg

Beat the yolks and whites of 1 Dozen Eggs separately and then pour together and add:

1 Pinch Baking Soda
6 oz. Old Mr. Boston Imported Rum
2 lbs. Granulated Sugar

and then beat into stiff lather.* Then add:

1 qt. Milk
1 qt. Sweet Cream
2 qts. Old Mr. Boston Rye or Bourbon Whiskey and stir. Set in refrigerator overnight. Before serving, stir again, and serve in 4 oz. Punch glasses, and grate Nutmeg on top.

OK, so what is with the Baking Soda? I have been checking recipes for egg nog - well, not all day. Actually, I've been dragging around shopping for all sorts of stupid little things that we seem to need...but I did check some recipes. And none of them call for baking soda. Unless it is an eggnog cake. But this is not cake, Old Mr. Boston!

But OMB does not stop at Baking Soda! He is an egg nog innovator! Behold  the wonder of his cider- infused nog:

Cider Egg Nogg

1 Egg
1 Teaspoon Powdered Sugar
1/4 pt. Milk

Shake well with cracked Ice and strain into 12 oz. Tom Collins glass. Then fill glass with Sweet Cider. Grate Nutmeg on top.

Has anyone seen anything like this in a recipe? Mixing eggnog with things like cider or baking soda? Why would you do this? What is the point? Cider and eggnog belong in separate glasses. And baking soda is for - well, for baking. Hence the name.

The Borden's Eggnog picture is from the 1970s; the punch bowl picture is from a 1960s ad (I can be more specific if you really want to go find them). Now, Borden's ads are a whole 'nother kettle of eggnog - starring Elsie the Cow and her rageball husband. Talk about dysfunctional bovines! We'll look in on them in another post. Because there are some hilarious Christmas ads starring Elsie et al from the 1950s. Coming up soon, so stay tuned! 

*Yeah, um...whatever. That's kind of a strange cooking direction. though.

Ave Atque Valetray

OK, so how many of you gave Jade East to your dad as a Christmas present? Please raise your hands.

I am waving my hand wildly. I think I may have used this exciting 1960s dad-gift idea more than once in the late 60s/early 70s period. I was in grade school, what did I know?

I remember thinking that it was a really clever and - dare I say - sophisticated present, and he was kind enough to put it on top of his bureau. Where it sat very politely - and sat and sat. Boy, I thought, he must really like it!

I didn't really notice that the bottles were staying full, though. Maybe I should have got him the Jade East Coral or Jade East Golden Lime variations. Actually now that I think of it, the phrase "Golden Lime" sounds disturbingly familiar.

The Valetray came with the cologne and after shave but the "Buddha cuff links and tie tack" and the non-Buddha key ring were not included, sadly. If only I'd known about this fabulous Valetray, I would have gone for that one year - just to change things up a little. Valetray ad from Ebony, November 1966 (the Golden Lime picture is from Ebony, April 1968).

Great big version of the Valetray here.

A Merry Little Cleanser

Have yourself a merry little Cleanser
Let your grout be white!
From now on
We'll use a lot of Seismotite.

Have yourself a can of Old Dutch Cleanser
Those tiles sure look gray;
From now on
You ought to clean them once a day -

Here we are, kneeling by the tub
Wondering why we scrub,
What for?
Old Dutch sure is a gritty mess
Like my housedress and
This floor -

Someday soon I'll take a break from cleaning
If the grates allow
Until then I'll Seismotite this joint somehow

And have myself
A merry little Cleanser now.

From Life, December 4, 1939. And by the way, I really, really want to send away for that Exquisitely Designed Cake Plate. But you need SIX Old Dutch labels. That is a little much, Old Dutch. Oh, and one other tiny problem is that it the offer expired 70 years ago...But you can still check it out over here at the big version.

The real actual lyrics to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" are here; and the classic clip of Judy Garland singing the song in Meet Me In St. Louis is here.

And what in the world is seismotite? Aside from being a retro adword that I love, it was a pumice that was supposed to not scratch up your tiles and tubs and things. The Old Dutch Coin Test, which starred seismotite, is explained over here at Old Time.

Old Mr. Boston's Hot Toddies

My title sounds like the name of a cheap all-girl vaudeville act in a 1930s B-movie (starring W.C. Fields as Old Mr. Boston, though the Dickensian fellow on the cover at left looks about a thousand times fresher than W.C.) - but it isn't about that at all.

The other week I found the most delightful cocktail recipe book from 1941 - the Old Mr. Boston's DeLuxe Official Bartender's Guide. It is full of terrifically named drinks and beautiful photos. If only scanning them wasn't going to crack Old Mr. Boston's spine, I would show you some. But unless OMB is on Google Books, I can't. The book's in perfect shape - mint as a mint julep - so it would just Not Be Right.

You can see the front cover over at the left though. And we will learn how to make some hot toddies from OMB, too. At below right is a Christmastime special offer from OMB in 1959 - a Golden Pourer* so that you can make your OMB drinks in style. And also not spill anything.

If you came here via Kitchen Retro you will be glad to know these recipes, because today's frightful retro ad stars a horrendous drink called Hot Buttered Tomato Juice.

Well, save that Land O Lakes butter for these instead:

Hot Brick Toddy

Into Hot Whiskey glass put:
1 Teaspoon Butter
1 Teaspoon Powdered Sugar
3 Pinches Cinnamon
1 oz. Hot Water, and dissolve thoroughly. Then add:
1 1/2 oz. Old Mr. Boston Rye or Bourbon Whiskey. Fill with Boiling Water and stir.

Hot Buttered Rum

Put Lump of Sugar into Hot Whiskey glass and fill with two-thirds Boiling Water. Add square of Butter and 2 Oz. Old Mr. Boston Imported Rum. Stir and grate Nutmeg on top.

The capitalizations are from OMB, by the way. As is the insistence on mixing glassware and boiling water. If I were you, I'd use a ceramic mug to make this sort of thing.

Sometime between now and Christmas I'll do an egg nog post and share OMB's unusual recipe. There's one ingredient in it I have never seen in any egg nog recipe before. Of course, that might be because I don't travel much in egg nog circles (whatever they might be) but - well, I'll be very curious to see what you all think.

*Doesn't The Golden Pourer sound just like a Philip Pullman outtake (from the little-known series His Dark Potables)?

[The Golden Pourer ad is from Ebony, December 1959, bigger version here.]

A Surprising Wow

The taste sensation is a surprising "wow."

That's one way of putting it. Land o'Goshen, Land O Lakes, is this the best  you could come up with for Christmas? If you have to butter up a hot drink, what on earth is wrong with Hot Buttered Rum? Or a Hot Brandy Flip? Or a Hot Brick Toddy?*

You can't make too much!

Oh, but I think you can. And you will. It is inevitable.

They'll oooh and aaah and ask for the recipe.

No, they won't. And the sounds you are hearing are groans of dismay, not ooohs and aaahs. Trust me.

*If you go on over to The Doubletake, I will tell you how to make them and all about the vintage cocktail book I got them from!

[From Family Circle's Great Ideas Christmas Helps, 1975, bigger version here.]

Noviotone News

Well, this is wonderful news. Novio brand toilet paper is on sale! And its quality is - well, it's perfection. If you looked up "perfection" in the dictionary you would probably see a picture of Novio in its amazing transparent wrapper.

And if you then looked up "nutty as a fruitcake" you would see the photo at the bottom of this ad, starring Midge, who has just learned that Novio has gone on sale.

So Midge has just put on her best elf hat and is rushing down to the High Class Store to buy some packets and cartons of Novio. And since Movietone News hasn't picked up the story yet, someone has to spread the word that Novio has a "hygienic transparent wrapping." So you can see what's inside and check if it's really toilet paper they put in there and not, say, Rice Krispies or oven cleaner.

Alas, her friend is not quite so entranced with the Novio. Even with her back to the camera, you can tell. Of all the people she had to run into on the street, it had to be One Track Midge.

Why, why me? Why must she tell me about toilet paper wrappers for hours? If only I could think of a way to get away. I know - I'll tell her I just saw Alice coming out of the chemists' with six carrier bags full of Novio. She'll be gone in a flash then.

[From Woman's Journal, May 1937.] 

Split Ends

I told my gray hair
To hit the road
We were through, I said.

So it got up and packed a bag
Full of all my best shampoos
And creme rinse,
And took the silver hairbrush.

My gray hair said:
I was going to be heading out anyway.
I've stuck around on your head
Long enough. A job well done.
Now I'm going to go see the world.

It drove all over America
Did the Jack Kerouac thing,
Stopping at beauty parlors
And hairdressers all over the Lower 48.

Sometimes I get a postcard,
Or a Clairol ad clipped
from an old magazine
And a strand of hair, in an envelope.
I always know
Who it's from.

When it got to California
It got bleached
And last I heard
It was hanging out
In Long Beach
Near the old amusement park,
Waiting to be discovered.

My new hair is perfect
Full of youthful Clairol highlights.
It smiles at my husband
And waves to him
And we are both certain
That he has been hypnotized
Entirely, by what's dyed.

[From Life, November 22, 1943, bigger version here.]

She Changed Her Mind

She's happy that she's going on a trip, all right. Yes, this is going to be fun! She was in a really bad mood at first. I can relate. Airports make me cranky, too.  But - it looks like the thought of an American Airlines plane trip just...changed her mind! Just like that! Yay!

And she's also happy to be wearing a searingly bright yellow pea jacket with a scarf for a belt. What a fashion innovator I am, she is thinking. Check out the yellow! Check out the scarf-belt!

But wait, there's more! She's also happy that she didn't lose the glove she's holding. But really, she ought to put the second glove on. Or else take the first one off and put those things away. Is it cold enough for gloves or not?

And lady, you also need to fix that beret. It is about to come off. Because when the plane takes off, there's going to be a huge gust of wind. That is not going to be good for a little hat that's barely hanging on as it is.

Speaking of which...If she doesn't stop doing the Happy Dance on the tarmac, she's going to miss the plane.

...And when that happens, she will be changing her mind again. She will not be so happy after all.

[From a 1950 American Airlines ad at Duke University's Ad Access.]

The Mysterious Marauder

Twice he had entered the St. Clair mansion. What was he after? Who? What was in danger?

I don't know. It sort of looks like Stephen Fry interpreting Hamlet as a 1930s gangster. It's a remake, of course. I guess they ran out of theater space downtown.

Berteau, the famous detective, had warned St. Clair that the mysterious marauder would come again. And now - a noise in the passage! The creak of an opening door! A shot in the dark! A capture!

Boy, that was quick. The critics are so tough these days. Mind you, it was a risky choice of venue.

Is this wounded stranger the mysterious intruder? Who could tell?

Uh oh. This could be very awkward. Maybe this intruder is not the Mysterious Marauder, but is in fact the understudy. In which case they should have told everyone that before the play started. No wonder Berteau is so cranky!

Yet Berteau identified the man without hesitation and won the $2500 reward.

Naturally. Of course he did. What else is he going to say: Oops, I made a mistake!...Of course not. And why else is Berteau so quick on the draw? Because he sent away for the "professional Finger Print Outfit" from the University of Applied Science!*

Here is a real opportunity for YOU. Can you imagine a more fascinating line of work than this?

Goodness, no. I had no idea that being a theater critic was so exciting.

 *Which is located, of course, in Chicago. You can click on the "Retro Chicago" tag below to see why this is so very significant.

[From Popular Mechanics, April 1925 - big-ish version here.]

Tour De Forst

Forst on the holiday agenda are the Forst Star meats
Those monolithic camera-ready treats -
All hail enormous ham and mighty turkey!
The brand that everyone has happily endorsed
Without even being Forst
By butchers wielding clubs of ancient jerky.

O steaks that are prepared to sear and sizzle
Even in the cold December drizzle
We hail thee with our Cards of Diner's Club!
We celebrate the sultry Smoked Ham Ball
Which has the power of a siren's call
To levitate Levittown Ulysses from the pub.

Yes, stars will sparkle 'round your famous Mystery Au Gratin
And your melamine counters will glow like satin
When Forst meats first shimmer into sight:
The holidays get exciting in a good way
Guests behave (for once) not in a rude way:
Why, Forst steak makes them sweet as Turkish Delight.

So rush your orders through and start in on the gifting
A big smoked turkey will make your dinnertime uplifting
And even little snacks seem like a feast:
So stock up, folks, it's now or never.
Forst rate meat won't sit around forever
It's this or else the Grinch's best Roast Beast.

[This 1962 ad is from the brilliant cabinet of retro wonders that is Modern Mechanix.]

The Soup Opera

This soup's the kind you get in Rome
We thought you'd like it here at home!

Is this supposed to be minestrone?
I think it is a little phony.

It's broth and veggies as per always
And noodles from Campbell's can-lined hallways

Some breadsticks and a costume or two
Does not make a generic new.

And nothing in this instant soup karma
Suggests Milan or Rome or Parma

Oh Campbell Kids, you can admit it
Just say the tricksy admen did it:

They tell us something came from Europe
And pour on hyperbole like corn syrup

They dub tapioca Spanish Flan
Then work their magic on a Campbell's can.

But Whoopie Pies are not Dobosch Tortes
According to culinary sorts;

And an Oreo's not a Snickerdoodle.
Likewise, this soup is Chicken Noodle.

[From Life, December 8, 1958. Big version here.]

Grouchy With No Chance Of Meatballs

Zeppo Lite: Hello, Dear. Um. Hello. Gosh. Now don't get mad but.... Is dinner ready?

Dear: What does it look like? Do you see anything set out? Do I have to cook up a big fat NO and put it on a plate for you?

Zeppo Lite: Look, this ought to cheer you up! I brought you a flattened paper bag* from the store with nothing in it. [pause] There was a box of candy in there but - I seem to have eaten it all on the streetcar. Har har!

Dear: Well, good, then you won't mind waiting a little. Because this sauce takes FOREVER to make! Do you have any idea how long I've been cooking this pot of spaghetti? Guess. Guess how long.

Zeppo Lite: Oh, let's see. I like a guessing game. Let me think. Two minutes?

Dear: Try two hours. HOURS.  I started boiling this stuff at four o'clock and - well, look! Just look at it. How STUPID of me! I thought it would save us money if I cooked at home but this is ridiculous.

Zeppo Lite: So...I imagine it'll be done soon.

Dear: It's going to take me another hour to finish cooking this horrible sauce. I HATE making tomato sauce! Hate it! All those tomatoes and all the seeds everywhere. And look at all the dirty pots. Next time you're getting Chef Boyardee out of a can, that's for sure.

Zeppo Lite: Too bad I don't have any Chef Boyardee in my paper bag. Har de har har! So just tell me which is the sauce and which...is the spaghetti. No, let me guess! They both look like sauce but... I'll guess the red stuff.

Dear: Congratulations, Einstein.

[This 1936 gem is from LiveJournal.]

* I know, it's really a newspaper. Poetic license! And it does sort of look like an empty paper bag. He would totally do that, you know.

The Man From Kleenex

Here we have the Man - the Very Little Man, in fact - From K.L.E.E.N.E.X. (Keep Levitating Each and Every Napkin, Even the Xtras).

He is just like The Man from U.N.C.L.E. - only smaller. And the espionage he's concerned with is that of small children who keep dropping their paper napkins at lunchtime and making their moms irritated.

This lady is all flustered about a paper napkin - yet when a strange miniature man bursts into her kitchen unannounced - from goodness knows where - who already seems to know about her napkin issues! - she's OK with that. Why? What is going on here?

Also I thought that the stereotypical butler was supposed to be British. But I guess Jeeves took one look at the paper napkins and made some polite yet pointed excuse as to why he couldn't possibly endorse them.

And as for the Kleenex napkins not falling off your lap? Try standing up, lady. You might think differently then.

The Schick Magnet

"Let's give Daddy the red one! It'll be great, 'cause it's five times as big as his head! He sure is going to enjoy shaving with it!

"And then can we get the other three colors and hang them on the tree. Pleeese? They're only $29.50 each and Schick is First with Colors For Men! So he will probably want all the other colors too. Come on Mom, he will love it. We can even call it our Schickmas tree! Get it, Schickmas? Huh?

"And then...can I please get a pair of pants?"

Bigger version here (I even remembered to make it public on Flickr, hurrah!). From Life, December 3, 1956.