Snubbers: The Coil That Does The Trick
Category: History
Witness To A Wedgie
Intent on Jehovah-knows-what, Miss Radley performs one of her duties as a member of Bevo’s Babes, a group of gals who served the men’s and women’s swim team. One job was to “boost the spirit of the swimmers.” Said the secretary of Bevo’s Babes, “We don’t want the girls who just want to look at guys in Speedos.” Personally, I’ve never met a girl who enjoyed that sight in the least. But to each her own.
The Babes also hosted and timed the National Collegiate Athletic Association swim meets, which lent some legitimacy to the organization. However, we all know the term “babe” is highly offensive in modern times and would not fly in 2018. While we’re at it, DJ’s should stop playing “I Got You, Babe” and Styxx’s “Babe,” and hurl the LP’s atop the pile of recent radio victim “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” It’s a dirty four-letter-word now, problematic and sexist, so–as you can well imagine, the group is now defunct, babe.
Mid-Century Uber
ba·rouche
/bəˈro͞oSH
noun
a four-wheeled horse-drawn carriage with a collapsible hood over the rear half, a seat in front for the driver, and seats facing each other for the passengers, used especially in the 19th century
The Higher The Hair, The Closer To Jesus, Part II
If you need more high hair, feel free to reference Part I.
Do You Hear What I Hear?
Armageddon Has Come, Folks Gather Kindling For Fires, And Pepsi Is STILL NOT OKAY
What dystopian circumstances have arisen that require these students to build a fire inside a library, presumably from the unread pages of old Encyclopedia Brittanicas? What chaos has ensued that they must sit in weakly-constructed patio chairs and grow their sloven bangs out just to retain head heat? Who can say? All we know is Pepsi was still not okay.
Elevate Enchiladas With New Lice Flour Tortillas
Honey, I wish I knew what was going on here. I can’t fathom a reason to stack perfectly good tortillas on a fellow’s head. But it was 1979, and honestly, this yearbook is plumb full of things I can’t explain. Like this frisbee-contorting carb-deprived student.
Or this wand to his lips. I like the faces on the couple in back.
Or why grown men would be piggy-backing. 
Or doing that to their hair and bodies. Just another confirmation that clowns are evil.
This seems like a dozen too many hula hoops.
This last one shows a group of Zeta Beta Tau dudes building sets for a party at Pat O’Brien’s. But that doesn’t explain the duck. 
On Trend Accessory For 2019: Ferns In Face
We’ve all seen the hibiscus worn in the hair, but this (as the carriage driver said in the Emerald City) is a horse of a different color. Kauai-born Sherrie Hamamura is literally sporting a crown of ferns, as well as a necklace of ferns. It looks itchy and uncomfortable, to be honest, especially in a downpour.
However, her Hawaiian name is Wailana, or Peaceful Water, so she probably doesn’t sweat the small stuff. I hope that fabric is moisture-wicking and allows for movement as she performs her classical hula.
Perhaps fellow WordPress blogger and former Hawaii-dweller, Tom, may understand this Hawaiian saying printed next to her in the National Geographic: I ka olelo no ke ola; I ka olelo no ka make. “In the language is life and death.”
Evidently, fern fashion is still alive and well, as evidenced here. Long live tradition!
Legally Drunk
It’s weird to see 1977 university staff images with EVERYONE drinking, since you could never do that now. Most students can’t drink until they’re juniors nowadays. But back when the drinking age was 18, nearly every student on campus was free to imbibe.
Until 1981 Texas had a minimum drinking age of 18. And you bet your bippy those 18-year-olds took advantage.
But it wasn’t just pints of beer. Spiked punch made the rounds at deans’ meetings. And the dean seems pleased.
These Delta Kappa Epsilons decided they needed an entire wine cellar for the night.
Such young revelry led to poor decisions regarding hairstyles.
And poor decisions regarding fashion.
They were ugly sweater before ugly sweater was a thing.
And sometimes folks just got too greedy.
Dear Bets (The Belle Of The Ball)
Yes, I realize we rarely read cursive anymore, and truth be told, it IS a bit of a chore to read an entire paragraph. But these words to 1941 freshman coed Betty F. make for interesting reading. First, a note from her ex to his “cute little fillie.”
Here is Betty.
Her nickname was “Tank.”
This was from her boyfriend, Dan, pouring his heart out to her, and admitting that he played his best at basketball just for her.
There’s too much to share the whole thing, but the sign-off was the best.
And this was from a boy she evidently friendzoned. However, if she were to change her mind about him, he’d return so fast, it would make her head swim.
I think we can agree that this yearbook lived up to its name.
Bend It Like Beckham
In The Arms Of Santa
This WWII Santa doesn’t appear that much older than the doe-eyed toddler he’s holding. Volunteering from a university fraternity, he seems a bit smoother about the edges than his later counterpart in 1967, shown below.
Sideburns and skinny ties share the stage with both a plusher Santa beard and Santa suit, which appears to have been velveteened. Of course, not everyone can get the Santa gig. Some folks have to settle for holiday titles.
Who even knew Barnwarming Queen was a thing? Are barns notoriously cold? Do queens exude that much heat?
It looks pretty toasty for these Savitar Barnwarming Queen Candidates in 1959. The only real loser here is the missing “g” in barnwarming.
Makes it sound oddly like barn-worming. But that’s another thing altogether.
I Don't Get It 