If that isn’t the perkiest, button-nosiest, suspender-wearing little pre-Reese Witherspoon, I don’t know what is. Marie Anderson from Traeder House, your hair was fab-u-lous.
Category: Hair
Dolly Parton Tilted Conehead
Six Months Till Christmas!
Mushroom Cloud Vampire & French Stewart
This bespectacled fellow is giving me a French Stewart (from Third Rock From The Sun) vibe.
The year 1951 was a special time for hair. Behold.
What in the name of Lyle Lovett? Oh, let’s not be hasty in our judgment; perhaps it was covering a right-sided tumor.
This next series takes us from disdain to giddy jubilation in just four steps.
Not everyone can have fantastic hair like Snazzle Dazzle here.
Right, Leslie?
Pretty sure he turned out to be a psychopath.
Puttin’ In The Ritz
Blossom Or Sue Heck?

When I discovered this shot of happy teens playing some version of Alsatian Red Rover, I couldn’t decide if the lass in stripes and updo was Blossom/The Big Bag Theory‘s Mayim Bialik

or The Middle’s Eden Sher.

What do you think?
Class Favorites 1946
Martha reminds me of a longhaired Ava Gardner.

I like the musical background behind Jim Bob Floyd (three first names!).
Barbara must be feeling for ashy elbows, but she looks like she’d be some fun, especially on Superbowl Sunday. Actually, the first Super Bowl wasn’t until 1967, over 20 years after this picture was taken.
Check out Charles. Have you ever seen a more broad-shouldered, smooth-faced young man? He’s built like Brigitte Nielsen. In fact, he may even be lying down on a thatched floor, resting those long ladyfingers.
Holy Hairy Trifecta
Tonight I Bleach My Eyebrows
Gussyin’ Up
Double Drinking Dorothy Hamill

If you are too young to recall the famous wedge haircut made famous by 1976 Olympic figure skating champion Dorothy Hamill, consider yourself lucky. It was a trend amongst women of the late 1970s, and the immediate regret caused many to self-medicate with frosty longneck beers. Consider these two ladies, rocking the double H: the Hamill and highwaisted jeans. And just in case you can’t read their shirts, they say: Bored Martyrs. Indeed.















