Why should he have to apologize at all? It was a costume party; it was 1936. I say wear whatever you want, whether it be velvet capris or a floral apron.
And all these years later, his smile hasn’t really changed. He’s the same charismatic funnyman.
His chest, however, only improved with age, peaking in the mid 90s.
I’m sorry, Ridley; I had to borrow your Seinfeld pic.
Oh, snap. This suddenly makes sense.
The caption tells me this was the staff of the 1955 Ranger. Journalists, I presume. Yearbook staff. But it doesn’t explain why a young Jay Leno looks so somber at the top, or why staff members are holding items on display, while laying hands on each other. Or why the fellow in the glasses looks like former SNL alumnus Andy Samberg doing his best Jerry Lewis impression.
I wanted to perk up this evening, so I put on a happy song, “Whenever I Call You ‘Friend,'” by Kenny Loggins and Stevie Nicks. Yes, I enjoy soft rock. Yes, it’s a strange title. It doesn’t make sense, but neither do the 70s.
Who is this beautiful model in a peacoat, so downtrodden? Such a pretty thing.
This was Kenny post-Loggins and Messina. Yes, you have heard of them. They sing that song, “Danny’s Song,” which never says Danny at all, but you’ve heard it.
Even though we ain’t got money, I’m so in love with you, honey.
See, you remember.
Anyway, this was before Kenny wrote the soundtrack to every blockbuster movie in the 80s. Yes, all of them. Can we say royalty checks?
Whenever I hear this song, I wish I was at a packed karaoke bar, wearing a gypsy poncho like a crazed Gold Dust Woman swirling about, doing my best Stevie Nicks impression with someone possessing awesome Loggins hair.
Oh. My. Goodness. Talk about a penetrating gaze. It’s like a beady-eyed baby bird with gloriously feathered (more bird references?) tresses. Gee, I bet his hair smells terrific.
And look at THIS. Look at it. It was his Cindy Crawford supermodel phase.
I am entranced by those luscious curls.
And what about this? Some backpack-wearing Jehovah’s Witnesses left a pamphlet in a door with some serious questions.
I think he got confused. A beard-crazy WordPresser posted this awesome pic of Kenny with Messina. He was “ugly Christmas sweater” when ugly Christmas sweater wasn’t cool.
But he had to get old because we all get old. Here he is singing “What A Fool Believes” with Michael McDonald.
Son of a gun. I always thought the lyric was “The wise man has the power.” It’s not. It’s “no wise man has the power.” That changes everything. I need some time for reflection. Don’t worry. I’m alright. Don’t nobody worry about me.
Welcome to Vogue Sep 2013, 902 pages of over-the-top, aesthetically displeasing ads that I DO NOT GET. I still regret paying $1 for it. All I wanted was some perfume samples.
Look, I liked Vogue as a youth. I enjoyed models and high fashion and keeping up with the trends, perusing through the modern and artsy pages. Perhaps they were even inspiring at one point. But now? Now I cannot get past these ads. Vile.
Spare me any comments about how high-concept or fashion-forward Vogue is; you’ll only sound pretentious or as tired as Madonna’s antiquated song. Ads don’t happen by accident; I’m 100% certain this contrived androgynous look was exactly what they were going for.
All I know is, somebody, please FEED HER. (Not Jennifer Lawrence, but the topless one). And make sure she keeps it down, if you know what I mean. And while you’re at it, throw a shirt on her and trot her to the closest neurologist to see if those dopamine receptors are down, because this one’s smile is broken.
Ralph Rucci, this makes me feel uncomfortable, and discomfort does not buy your product. In fact, it makes me want to ralph into a toilet bowl (where you should put your flowy too-long skirt, fur muff, belt, gloves and bad eye shadow). And take that hairdon’t back to Moe from the Three Stooges. But props to you for getting celebs to buy your clothes! Rich folk love them some runways. Cha-ching!
And I apologize to Crispin Glover, who is actually much easier on the eyes (yet arguably as eccentric) than the aforementioned shemale.
Fun fact of the day: Jheri curl creator Jheri Redding (born Robert William Redding) was an American hairdresser, chemist, haircare products entrepreneur, and a businessman. And an old white guy. But that didn’t stop folks from sporting the glossy, loosened curls.
If you have never watched Coming To America, do yourself a favor and enjoy Eddie Murphy and Arsenio Hall as the Hope & Crosby pairing for the 1980s. The movie parodied overuse of Jheri Curl in an advertisement for Soul Glo. My eardrums are still pierced from the shrill jingle (Prince meets Minnie Riperton). You remember Eriq La Salle rocking a Jheri? 
But the woman’s hairdo reminds me of Ola Ray, the luck, luckiest girl in the whole U.S.A. The girl from the Thriller video! The one we all wanted to be–with Michael’s arm around her! Is that blue leopard denim?
And while every senior in this 1985 yearbook wore the same striped tie or strapless gown, not all of them sported Jheri curl. This lady went for volume instead. 
The gentleman has a curious case of Kenan Thompson eyebrows. See for yourself.
Nobody told Victor he couldn’t wear Stevie Wonder glasses for class portraits. 
Still, his enormous shades were probably better choices than these three specs:
If you still need your Soul Glo fix, here ’tis:
I saw this picture in a 1940 yearbook and thought, “That looks a lot like Ol’ Blue Eyes, except for those jacked-up teeth.” Turns out it was Sinatra, and the best (teeth) were yet to come. The Chairman of the Board was not the big draw at the above 1940 Freshman Frolic; that honor went to Tommy Dorsey. Back in 1940, 25-year-old Frank was merely a “boy singer” in Dorsey’s band, earning sufficient funds to fix his teeth.
In fact, another six years would pass before Sinatra released his first studio album, The Voice of Frank Sinatra. He was lucky to get a mention in this partial review.
Don’t worry, Roscoe. He can’t put a hit out on you for saying this, although that does sound like his style. Confrontation he did not shy away from. And it was that spirit that sent him back for another round of dental work years later.
As Paul Anka recalls, a drunk Sinatra, upset that Sands Casino owner Howard Hughes had declined his credit, jumped up on a blackjack table and pitched a fit. When manager Carl Cohen tried to calm him down, Sinatra called him a “fat Jew bas****” and turned over a table. What could Cohen do? Turn the other cheek? Or punch him in the face and send Frank’s teeth flying across the room? He chose the latter.
“You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you”.–Walt Disney
I’d never seen this ad before. My new KU magazines are filled with cigarette ads. I’m not on an anti-smoking propaganda campaign here; I’m just sharing the interesting ads.
However, it did contribute to DiMaggio’s demise. DiMaggio, a heavy smoker for much of his adult life, was admitted to Memorial Regional Hospital in Hollywood, Florida, on October 12, 1998, for lung cancer surgery. He returned to his Florida home on January 19, 1999, where he died on March 8. His last words were, “I’ll finally get to see Marilyn.” (wikipedia)
Guard your cheekbones, sister! The header reads “Little Sisters of the Skull.” I don’t see a skull. And obviously one of these ladies is no little sister. The housemother’s pissy smile is reminiscent of Marlene Dietrich, the later years.
The weak are more likely to make the strong weak than the strong are likely to make the weak strong. — Marlene Dietrich
Actually, her face conveys a more Kanye West sentiment: You should be honored by my lateness. If you’re not familiar with the leggy, gender-bending bisexual and promiscuous Dietrich, then chances are high you also have no idea to what Klute hair refers. No worries! It was an old Hanoi Jane Fonda movie, where she displayed this curious hairstyle. Female sideburns that flip up and constantly poke the eyeball–who wouldn’t want that? Personally, I prefer Barbarella.
Evidently, Linda Bailey (in the Susan Dey Partridge Family vest) wanted it, and she appears elated with her decision.
Fortunately for her, the hairstyle easily converted to the Joan Jett look, popular a decade later.
And she don’t give a damn about her bad reputation.
Yep, it’s another yearbook picture sans caption, so we are left wondering why Dick Van Dyke (or his twin) is carrying a box of problems up the aisle.
And why are there no chairs? And what a pretty cherry dress!
Here is the other half of the picture, showing a man in a cape behind Dick, fanning him with a palm leaf. What the what??
I Don't Get It 