Category: Art

Sanka Makes The Fiesta

If you think the world hasn’t made great strides in being “woke” in the 83 years since this ad was printed in LIFE, you’re wrong. Instead of erasing the past, let’s shine a light on it, so that we know how far we’ve come, and continue to go. Let’s also remember to keep everything in context of its era and keep in mind that not everything that offends people was intended to belittle. As a Hispanic woman who has spent her life in Texas, I can tell you that many people DO speak with poor conjugation in broken sentences, as is par for the course when you are mastering a second language. I have heard sentences very similar to these. Before one jumps to outrage, one should try to see the big picture. Obviously, this wouldn’t fly in today’s advertising. And while I choose to grind my own beans each morning and consequently have never had Sanka, I sadly am forced to drink decaf as well. “I have sleep like the log” after evening coffee, too.

New Fabric Won’t Shrink In Dryer

by Clifton Adams for Nat Geo 2/33

Today’s image comes from Hoquiam High School’s domestic science department, where the seated teacher is tending to a wooden skirt made of Sitka spruce veneer, at a comfortable 1/80 inch thickness. Washington state was swimming in lumber during the Great Depression, leading to its use in costumes as well as (yes!) bathing suits. Can you imagine the marks that would leave on your upper thigh, or how it would clickety clack when you walk?

Sitka spruce.

Jolly Good Form

1943 Cactus

On the right, we see Charles Umlauf, Professor of Life Drawing and Sculpture, during his first year of teaching at the University of Texas. While you may not be familiar with his name, chances are you have heard of one of his art major students, Farrah Fawcett, who called Umlauf her “favorite professor.” Understandably, she posed for him as a muse, as well as sculpted on her own. Here they are in his studio, during a very stripey 1971.

https://www.wmagazine.com/

Below is the bronze bust of a feathery Fawcett, made by Umlauf.

https://www.austinchronicle.com/

A Little Fancy Frosting Never Hurt A Cake

Seventeen magazine, April 1947

Wow, this ad campaign has got it all. The bandwagon technique; he’s running with the pack. He doesn’t care about personality; he only dates Eye Tonics. So if you’re the angel cake that’s trying to catch the eye of a dark hunk of muscle like Chuck, you better spread some fancy frosting all over you, ladies! It’s not optional; Chuck says it’s glamour homework. It’s your assignment! Remember, he’s for the filly with an even pace!

So what is this ad even selling, other than insecurity? This stylish lass, though trim and decked out in modern garb, seems to be apprehensive about her potential suitors. Probably because she has a secret. A secret that keeps her elbows close to her side, while the boys wave their arms about. She reeks.

But for a few coins, she can rate with fellows like Chuck. Thank you, ARRID!

Seems like an easy way to snag a date with boys who possess a molasses drawl. Just a swipe in your pits, and you’re done!

Nutty For Nylons

Joyce is over the moon with this new shade of nylons–in stylish palomino! The golden color would cover up her pasty white legs in no time!

Ladies, when’s the last time you gave an ounce of thought to the color of your pantyhose? Have you even purchased hose in this millennium? I never see anyone sporting them these days. Probably because they didn’t have EZ glove to remove “mannish leg-hair.”

But once those legs were shaved, it was time to don some Dancing Twins! And remember folks, these nylons necessitated garter belts. Peggy Sue hadn’t yet invented pantyhose. 😉 Seam-free nylons did the trick for THIS cute trick.

If nylons weren’t up your alley in 1947, you could stay feet-focused on trendy bobby sox, in an assortment of colors, sure to entice your local soda jerk.

And if you were a girl who knows what goes, you’d pull on some Bonnie Doons before strapping on your skates to burn off the calories from eating too many Lorna Doones.

But socks weren’t the end of the conversation. You had to accessorize them. Everybody’s doing it!

So much pressure on young women! These days, a woman can just pick an atrocious tattoo to reflect her inner soul. But back in 1947, sock buttons were the way to express yourself. Can you imagine anyone taking the TIME to interpret your sock buttons?

Skilled Labor For Old Glory

August 1935 by Luis Marden

Welcome to an “old-fashioned wool-working exhibit” on the Common in Boston, where these contestants competed to win the knitting trophy. Originating in 1634, it is the oldest city park in the United States. The squares of 200 women (and the one lone fellow shown above) were pinned on a board to form the Stars and Stripes. In just one day, they created this woolen flag.

All Aboard Santa

If you want to ride “really South” on Santa, you have a choice.

Even 30 years later, the Santa ships were going strong. If you’ve got time to kill, here’s cruise line footage, probably the closest I’ll ever get to taking a cruise.

Not Actual Size

May 1932 by Luis Marden for Nat Geo

Okay, so it’s 1932 on Milk Street in Boston, a street that has been there for over 300 years. These three bobbed-hair women marvel at the carving prowess of Carl Larsen, who fashioned this wooden Indian out of live oak. Why an androgynous youth is bowing before the altar is another issue altogether. But this is no ordinary Indian offering cigars to outdoor patrons; this is Samoset the Abenaki extrovert, best known for waltzing up to Plymouth Colony on March 16, 1621, greeting, “Whassup, Pilgrims!” and then inquiring if they had any ale on hand. Why was this odd? Well, he was the first American Indian to make contact with said Pilgrims, having learned some English from Maine fishermen. And despite what news stations would have reported, had they existed, everyone got along peaceably, and Samoset even spent the night. A week later, he returned with his buddy Squanto, who spoke better English, and more fellowship ensued, presumably with beer.  This particular wooden Indian was denied the pleasure of ale, although he did get a periodic dose of boiled linseed oil poured down a hole in his head, to keep his wood from cracking.