Sometimes the ads in the back of old yearbooks are just as interesting as the pics inside. This is a right fancy car for only $790. Looks like you could rear end the fellow in front of you and still not come close to smooshing your legs.
The yearbook included this cool image of the students inside a cave. Creepy!
Then there’s this too close for comfort wrestling team.
En garde! Theater students have all the right moves.
Nestled snug inside my August 1947 copy of National Geographic lies this interesting piece of art.
Isn’t it just fantastic? I love the split levels. As with many ads of yore, it contained many more words than we’d bother reading today. But this was 1947, and most folks didn’t own a TV. Reading was a way to pass the time. With no information highway, ads were the information.
Having never visited New York, or anywhere up north for that matter, I had no idea what an SRO sign was. Evidently, it’s a single-room-occupancy residence. So I learned something today! How ’bout them apples? However, I have seen pics of subways, and they don’t look like “bright, cheerful cars” to me. And as far as 7.8 million population, that’s another lesson in demographics. New York City only has 8.5 million residents today. Yes, it’s true that there were 7.8 back then, but it’s also true that by 1980, the population had actually reduced down to a straight 7 million. It wasn’t until the 1990s that it surpassed what it had been in 1947. I guess you can only shove so many marbles in a jar.
Today, I have three new Antique Mall photographs of indeterminate origin–no dates, no locations, no nada. But how could I pass up this guy with his Gomer Pyle eagerness? And, oh, how he is bookended! Evidently, they offered secret trial silicone lip injections in the 60s…
In the upper left reflection, you’d swear he was the living LBJ himself!
I can’t hazard a guess as to what this second image is, although I doubt it was a Communist Party or Black Panther meeting. Nicely crossed hands and legs on the taller one.
And this last one, I bought just for the lass on the left. Such chutzpah to don white glasses! What a Kanye move! Don’t you suppose the two in the middle are related, whatwith their hopeful eyebrows?
This blog has offered up many a mid-century sorority pic–and today, we add to the pile. Excuse the descreening effect of the above image; I’m certain she did not have inordinately grand goose bumps on her forearms. (Or perhaps that’s why she looks so shocked! Poor Chicken-Arms Chelsea…)
These next ladies have fabulous forearms. One seems to be asking if she can get a what-what while she decorates.
The lucky four-eyed gal in the middle seems to be the object of engagement. Perhaps the other ladies should get in shape to snag a man, too! Bend your knees and touch your toes!
But in the meantime, snagging printed party dresses will have to do.
I know, I know–a lot of Baby Boomers love them some White Diamonds. There’s just something about the scent that makes me cringe. I could be innocently shopping at TJ Maxx or standing in line for coffee at church, and then WHOOSH! the stench of White Diamonds infiltrates my personal space and sticks to my clothes and hair, and nine hours later, there it is, wafting on the wind as I try to snack on cashews or flip through Southern Living magazines. It is in-escapable.
People often say the first thing they notice about Oprah is how great she smells, but you never hear anyone saying that about Liz Taylor. Why? No, not because she’s dead. White Diamonds, friends. White Diamonds.
I really wanted to like this fragrance out of respect for Liz Taylor, but try as I might, I couldn’t. I occasionally got whiffs of coconut, but it’s not listed in the notes. The rest of it is plastic and screechy synthetic notes.
This perfume has the odour of an old wig that’s been in heavy use, perfumed, powdered and seldom washed.
Debbie R. agreed:
This is one of the most vile fragrances ever created. Harsh, shrill and cheap-smelling. It’s for someone pretending to have money.