1900s, Culture, Fashion, History, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Style, Vintage

I Can’t Wait To Die So I Can Haunt This House

Victorian era peeps rarely looked happy to be alive. Maybe it was the ten minutes each morning spent lacing up boots or corsets or angling their hats just so. Maybe it was the frustration of pier and beam homes on those windy cold winter’s nights, wishing they had concrete foundations. The only information written on the picture was that Agnes is the girl on the left, and Lois is the girl on the right. Lois is the only one who seems to be enjoying the day, possibly because swings. No swings = stern.

1900s, Culture, History, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Vintage

She Loves Me Like A Rock

How’s this for the mother and child reunion? What joy radiates from both of their faces. You can see why I couldn’t pass this snapshot up.

With Mother’s Day coming up, I thought I’d share a few pics of mothers and their children. She looks tickled to death that her son was granted a furlough to visit her.

This next mom lacks the enthusiasm of the others, but perhaps the corset has got her muscles too tightened to smile.

And lastly, we have a much more recent pic that looks to be from the 60s. If you ask me, it looks like Shirley Temple Black and a Kewpie doll.

Am I right or Amarillo?

1930s, College, Fashion, History, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Texas, Vintage

Spread Your Wings And Stay Put

1933 SMU Rotunda

Pictures like this keep my blog title accurate. I don’t get this at all. Southern Methodist University students dressed to the nines behind a wide-winged pelican (statue, I presume). Campus isn’t near the beach; it’s in Dallas, and the mascot is a mustang. What does it all mean?

Deeper into the yearbook, bobbed flapper hair was all the rage.

Ain’t she a catch?

The inner yearbook cover offered this interesting map, with lines radiating from the university campus. Note the lyrics to “She’ll be coming ’round the mountain when she comes,” the first printed version of which had only just appeared in Carl Sandburg‘s The American Songbag five years prior.

Another I Don’t Get It moment.