Yesterday, we visited West Texas State Teachers College for a glimpse of campus life. As you can imagine, with images ranging in size from a stamp to a business card, the resolution can be sketchy. But amazingly, some images are crisp as a kettle chip. Feel free to click to enlarge.
Prohibition was over, yes. But the Depression was still in full swing, with 20% unemployment, compared to today’s 3.8%. Not being able to support a family might be a justifiable reason to drink, which probably contributed to the formation of a group called Alcoholics Anonymous that year. In addition, The Social Security Act was signed. Wikipedia fun facts include these bits of trivia:
Meanwhile, fortunate young Americans still attended college, like these students at West Texas State Teachers College. As you know, my favorite parts of my many yearbooks are the candid shots. Many of them are only two inches high in brittle paper collages, but with the power of zoom, we can get a great sense of the campus culture.
Come back soon for more 1935 pics; this yearbook is a treasure trove!
P.S. They really don’t use books any more. At least not here. Our school district leases Lenovo laptops to students once they enter middle school and they can continue with the same one for years. Families pay for them yearly. Back in my day, we were issued used textbooks and we covered them with paper ads, such as Mrs. Baird’s bakery or Big Red. We had to fold them just right at the corners to keep them in place.
This is one I’ve actually kept for 40 years. Any of you recall doing this with paper bags?
On The South Bay Beach, 1952, Thurston Hopkins
At this point, WWII was in the books, and the era of photography had changed as well. More formal portraiture had made way for commonplace settings, examining the ordinary, such as these folks at the beach.
I can’t say that personally, I’ve ever seen people wearing winter clothes to a beach, much less a business suit. Even the children building sandcastles are wearing long-sleeved, button-down shirts. I guess the day was made more for being outdoors than for a brisk swim. I love these expressive matronly faces, but I also wonder if it was hard to procure sunglasses at the time. Surely, they could have used some!
In the background lies the luxury hotel called The Grand. When it opened in 1867, it was the largest hotel and the largest brick structure in all of Europe! Now, to the Americans, that’s ancient. But over there, I suppose 1867 was just a couple blinks ago–and it certainly doesn’t conjure up memories of a post-Civil War era for them.
Myself, I don’t care for hotels–for the midnight slamming doors, kids running up and down halls, the thin walls, the questionable cleanliness (especially the bed quilts), the half-ply toilet paper, the items I have found on carpet, including both metal tacks and bullets at a certain Hyatt. But I can appreciate the architecture. And while this hotel has faced all kinds of health issues, from cases of gastroenteritis to Norwalk virus to dangerous levels of bleach in the water, the most interesting tidbit is as follows:
In September 2006, the management installed extra netting and spikes on the exterior of the building to deter nesting seagulls. The birds, which are regarded as a nuisance in parts of the town, had been disturbing guests with mating calls. Their droppings were also responsible for a significant proportion of the hotel’s cleaning expenses. (Scarborough Evening News)
Ladies, we’ve all had those moments when the air gets stale beneath our petticoats and we could go for a good “Seven Year Itch” subway grate moment. Get the air moving about a bit. But this is too much. Maybe model Lisa Fonssagrives was having a good braided hair day, a good make-up day, and wanted to get out and show her dress off. That, I get. Sometimes your hair is so on point that it demands social activity.
But hit the pubs, the restaurants, the gardens, perhaps the part of the Eiffel Tower that touches the ground. Maybe that was her intention. But then photographer Erwin Blumenfeld arrived on the scene.
And he said, “Just hear me out here, but I was thinking … What if you scaled the girders of the tower in your billowy Lucian Lelong dress–which is totally not a hazard in any way–sans harness, and just sort of hung on by one hand? Sound good?”
And she was all, “Why not?”
Badda-bing, badda-boom, the precursor to our current dangerous, extreme selfie culture.
Somehow, Lisa lived to the age of 80, not falling off a Parisian tower. She described herself as a “good clothes hanger.”
That’s how I feel about perms, too, Andie. Like Andie McDowell, I had curly hair in the 80s, so no perm was warranted. Frizz was in, and sleek was out. Even Paulina experimented with the volume of the perm. Clearly, she still felt sexy in her side-eye specs.
Perms were liberating, devil may care, and wild.
When mousse came on the scene, permed styles became wetter, evoking poolside images of Christie Brinkley in “Vacation” or Phoebe Cates in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”
But some perms still looked touchably soft. Why bother with earrings at this point?
And let’s not forget moisturizing curls to keep them plump and full–and “sof” and free. Even the “t” in soft was too hard for these curls.
That arched eyebrow means she ain’t playing.
Some Vogue ads showed before and afters, pre- and post-perm.
It looks like they were going for a combination of Jennifer Beals “Flashdance” hair and Ola Ray from the “Thriller” video. What do you think? Is that smile cringey?
And God forbid you get a bad perm. You could never show your face in public. The solution to a damaging perm? Twigs and branches.
Kigutu Academy, Village Health Works, Burundi, 2018
Take a look around. People’s hair seems pretty tame these days. Yes, women from 12 to 55 are adding purple tint. That’s a bit odd. But basically, nothing in these 20-teens has anything on the 80s. Not the Oughties or the 90s.
Today we take a look at a tiny sliver of the 80s, January through April of 1986. All images are from Vogue.
Let’s start with this hair-raising vertical, erect pony. It certainly wouldn’t work for driving any form of car or truck. Perhaps she only traveled in the way way back of station wagons, prostrate. She seems the sort, no?
Gravity-defying was in, with temples swept up and away. With heavy earrings and fringe hanging down, hair needed to fly up, the opposite of the middle-parted hippie Cher hair from the decade prior.
Even the model in the fatty plus-sized section of the mag had her hair sprayed up to the heavens to make sure it never fell into her face. 
This six-year-old in a jubilant Esprit ad also had hair spiked and sprayed to the sky, accented with a bandana, a la Olivia Newton-John’s “Physical” days.
When inevitably the hair collapsed, one wound up with a Shaggy Dog look. If only she could see her own appearance, she would have jetted to the Supercuts for a trim.
These bangs win the award for thickest bangs ever. I bet you could hide a shiv in there.
And for the free and easy, peace-loving, inclusive Benetton ads, hair was free form as well. All the way down to those split ends. Peace out.
“He produced a handkerchief—crisply folded—and handed it to her. She took it with silent astonishment. She’d never before known anyone who carried a handkerchief.”
― City of Bones (2007)
A handkerchief. It does seem a romantic (however outdated) notion, as far being used for anything under than a natty pocket square. And should a damsel have the need for dabbing her tears, a clean handkerchief might come in hand.
However, the reality is less romantic.
“Nothing, however, bemused the Indians more than the European habit of blowing their noses into a fine handkerchief, folding it carefully, and placing it back in their pockets as if it were a treasured memento.” ― At Home: A Short History of Private Life
Surely we can all agree on that. I believe that my grandfather carried a handkerchief on his person, but he was also known to sneeze 7 to 8 times in a row. As a child, that was one tradition we could always expect at Christmas: to count grandpa’s sneezes as he went along.
Today, as Cassandra Clare, pointed out, almost no one uses them for blow, but merely for show. We live in a disposable world full of affordable soft Kleenex; I have a box within reach right now, as well as in four other rooms in our home.
Growing up in Austin during Willie Nelson’s outlaw years, my first introduction to handkerchiefs was the classic red paisley one he wore as a bandana, and which you still often find gathered around a blue heeler’s neck in the country. But in their day, handkerchiefs were more than just a square for hygienic purposes. They also served as art.
So today, I share some images from “Handkerchiefs: Volume 2.” We start with one fit to hand a lass in need.
This one’s in French!
Some were geared toward hobbies.
Or motivation.
Animals of all kinds made the grade.
Even our amphibian friends!
The cotton served as canvas for all sorts of swinging scenes.
And some were downright detailed. This might have even served as a Father’s Day gift. Don’t forget: it’s this Sunday!
I Don't Get It 