1930s, Fun, Funny, History, Humor, Nature, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Vintage

Smile While I Bury You

Most of us don’t immediately associate beaches with the city of Cleveland. In fact, I am so full of ignorance about the city, that other than it existing inside of Ohio, I only know that Drew Carey was born there. I also know he was a Marine, and that his middle name is Allison, so that shows how much MORE I know about Drew than his birthplace. So if you’re like me, you will be gobsmacked to learn that they put some sand along the edge of Lake Erie and called it a beach. No sharks? No salt water to sting your eyes? Sounds nifty!

1932, by Jacob Gayer

I hear they have freshwater jellyfish, however, but not big enough to give you a painful sting that lasts for two weeks with shooting bolts of pain down your leg, like the fun Gulf of Mexico offers. Cleveland’s Edgewater Beach website says one can enjoy 2400 feet of beach and 1000 feet of swimming access. Let’s go! Any readers done some swimming this summer, either alone or completely disobeying all the laws and engaging with friends and family? I surely have not.

1930s, Culture, Fun, History, Humor, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Vintage

One-Handed Bingo

by Edwin L. Wisherd for Nat Geo

Oh, things were so formal in days of yore! Kempt hair, belts, ties! Nothing like today, where anything goes. You think Millennials have ever worried over which fork to use? You think Generation Z  was ever nagged, “No elbows at the table”? Doubtful. At church yesterday, the boy in front of me was wearing flip-flops, and at least two grown men were wearing ballcaps. That would have never flown in my day, but today we are “accepting” and “inclusive” and it’s perfectly fine to show up, dressed like you’re headed down to the “crick” to go frog-gigging or you’re next up to work the pole . Atrocious, especially if you have perfectly good Sperrys (ies) in your closet.

Anyhoo. This here is Puerto Rico in 1939, the year that I associate with both The Wizard of Oz and Gone With The Wind. The lottery had been allowed for 35 years when in 1934, Puerto Rican legislator Maria Luisa Arcelay (evidently some women did yield political power in the 30s) suggested allowing lotteries to be legalized. By December, she had made it happen. In this image, a lottery drawing is taking place before “three prominent citizens” who act as honorary witnesses (no funny stuff!), but regular proles are allowed to attend as well. The smaller cage on the left houses the “number balls,” and the larger contains “prize amount balls.” Sounds like gambling to me, but I’m not one to turn down a flashy Stampede slot machine.

One third of the receipts were distributed to combat tuberculosis in old PR (which had a whopping 5X higher death rate than in the US proper), to relieve the destitute (of which 82% claimed to be in need of financial aid, and BTW, are the destitute ever really relieved, or do they just hang on as dependents to a government who fancies itself their Savior?), and equip hospitals (possibly with PPE). Choir boys then sang the winning number and the respective prize to the crowd gathered outside. Because that’s normal.

 

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1940s, Beauty, College, Culture, Fun, Funny, Hair, History, Humor, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Style, Vintage

But Who Invented The Cottongim?

In every yearbook of a certain vintage, several pages are devoted to beauty queens and runner-ups, “bluebells” to “sponsors” for men’s organizations. Today we feature not merely the campus beauties of Georgia Tech way back in 1947, but the ones with interesting names. Let’s start the ball rolling with Miss Elizabeth Cottongim!

Nope, it’s not the Eli Whitney cotton gin; it’s gim, which is neither alcohol nor an engine. And evidently the name is still going strong in Georgia, where Cottongim Services addresses all your heating and cooling needs.

Next up is a name I bet you’ve never heard, and probably can’t pronounce. It’s Miss Ygondine Walker! And as you can see by the cropped page, she was a SPON-sor. Extra credit for getting nominated by Mr. Pettyjohn, though I’d rather hear a Pettytom.

Next in line is typical for the era; when a woman married, she lost her own name entirely and became the Mrs. to her husband. So in this case, it’s Mrs. J.O. Paine. I feel your paine, honey. And check out that hair crown!

As we continue on down our list, we showcase Helen Quattlebaum. Evidently famous Quattlebaums existed, such as Cephas and Corey Bear.  I guess she also knew a fellow named John Kennedy? Is she even wearing a dress?

And last but not least, let’s sound the chorus for Doris Boris! She might have done well to marry soon after and shed that rhyming surname.

Well, that’s it for today, folks! Enjoy your quarantine! And the next time that you meet an Ygondine or answer yet another Eli Whitney trivia question, think of me and how I just don’t get it.

1950s, Advertising, Art, Culture, Fun, Funny, Humor, Nostalgia, Pics, Vintage

This Cat Is Fire

You know how magazines have those sections where they stuff all the cheapo ads together, and you wonder if anyone ever grabs a magnifying glass to read their teensy font? Well, today we’re checking out those ads.

These all come from April of ’54, and you can see that hippity hoppity, Easter was on its way. Seriously, that’s a weird car, right?

Anacin has been around longer than anyone reading this page, and you can still get it. She sure looks glad that she did.

Some ads are so tiny, you wonder what was the point. And was it really necessary to spell kiwi phonetically?

Vernell sounds like that great-aunt who lost her husband 30 years ago and wouldn’t think of remarrying, but she’s a really good cook and could definitely score a spouse if she would just move on with her life.

This next one is so fun with our friendly Nirc making his debut on this blog. Not to be confused with Narc, this little guy is concerned with the cleanliness of your rugs. They needed a mascot for that?

And speaking of weird acronyms, this next ad is for NCB, accepted from pole to pole. So odd!

We’ll wrap up with something none of us ever thinks about, fine driving lights. I knew cars were usually feminized, but I didn’t know headlights were as well. Now that I type that, it makes sense. Do you ask your husband to run to Auto Zone and grab a couple Lorraines?

Does Lorraine make you think of quiche or Newman?

1940s, Advertising, Art, Culture, Fashion, Fun, Funny, History, Humor, Nostalgia, Pics, Style, Vintage

Worship At The Altar Of Laconian Debs

Must … wear … Laconian Debs.

Y’all, it is rare indeed when a Google search turns up with zilch, nada. But such is the case for Laconian Debs. I guess they only existed for this one moment in my 1947 Seventeen magazine, which evidently could hardly contain their foot fetish. Apparently, those weren’t the only Debs around. Polly Debs were climbing up the charts.

I just don’t get this. These are NOT super flat. They have at least a one inch heel. And what a metaphor! Is a Coke comfy? That’s an odd word choice. You’ll love them like Mink? What? Are we talking about fur now? I’m so confused. But it’s good to know they’re live. All shoes should be live. Shouldn’t they?

Let’s move on to Kickerinos. That’s just fun to say, like Vinnie Barbarino. Anything -ino. It must be eye-talian!

Next up are the musical Monomacs, in either elk or Bucko Calf. Bucko Calf? There’s another thing Google’s never heard of. What a banner day!

I don’t know what music has to do with moccasins, or why tiny elves are handstitching the seams, but there you go. Now on to something south of the border!

Finally, something I’ve heard of. Huarache sandals, too …. A bushy, bushy blond hairdo … Surfin’ USA. ♫♪♫ Calf skin? I’m familiar with it. I get it. Wait, they come with foot shortening vamp? What the heck is that?

Who knew shoes could be so complicated?

Before a cutter was a person who took a knife to their skin just to “feel something” in a world of apathy, Cutters were shoes worn to catch men’s eyes. Maybe he’s not a breast or a thigh man; maybe he’s more interested in your arches. Super. And these would have been the choice for any butterface gal back in ’47 (that’s a woman who looks lovely everywhere “but her” face).

Let’s enjoy the symmetry of this next ad.

Three shoes, six gals, three shoes. Finally, some order. Everyone needs a few smooth, young Connies. Wouldn’t you agree? But smooth, young Connies grow up to become Old Town Trollers. It’s inevitable.

Two more years and I’ll be one myself. But at least I’ll be queen of them all! Still, nobody likes a troller. I’d take these adjectives any day.

Soft and supple. By the way, I’ve heard about Teena’s “brilliant night play.” Now, THAT’S something Google understands.

1940s, Advertising, Art, Culture, Fashion, Fun, History, Humor, Nostalgia, Pics, Style, Vintage, Youth

Coke Date Fashion

Back in 1947, folks weren’t meeting up at Starbucks for $6 coffees. They were meeting at diners for nickel Cokes. Never coined Sprite nor Big Red nor Fanta Dates, this ad hyphenates it as “Coke-Dates.” No gal worth her salt would show up to sip soda in a t-shirt and jeans. Perish the thought! So Joan Miller made this fantubulous dress of men and women, gussied up in hats and suits, drinking Cokes themselves. Add a ruffled collar, and voila! Coke-Date material. Literally.


But it wasn’t just ensembles that needed vetting for dates of Coke. No, siree, Bob. You needed bonafide Coke-worthy shoes as well. And what better to marry that fizz than with leather moccasins, in five gay colors? You could get the traction you needed on asbestos-infused linoleum flooring. After all, you don’t want to spill the very drink for which you came.

The boys were home, Hitler was dead, and all was well on the western front. Time for snazzy frocks and fizzy drinks. Time to celebrate!

1940s, Advertising, Art, Beauty, Culture, Fashion, Fun, Funny, History, Humor, Nostalgia, Style, Vintage

More Fagotting Brings The Boys

So much beautiful fagotting going on here.

It’s okay. It means joining two hemmed pieces of fabric together with decorative stitching. But can we just talk about her enormously thick Peyton Manning head, balancing on a neck that is even thicker than her waist? Have any of you a waist smaller than your neck?

And what of her hips? Has she any? How is she to put forth more Peyton-headed children from such slim loins? ‘Tis a mystery. I don’t get it.

1960s, Culture, Funny, History, Humor, Nostalgia, Photography, Pics, Vintage

Taking Tea At The Juliet Balcony To See Your Husband Off

1964 Cadillac

So much in this one tiny image. The slender woman at the balcony, trying to fill the emptiness of her husband’s neglect with six ounces of Earl Grey, as he obliviously tries to pack away his clubs into a luxuriously long and lean baby blue ’64 Cadillac. Note the fender skirt. Have you ever driven a car with a fender skirt? Has the term changed because a skirt implies gender, though cars are often thought of as female? Can I call this a house of antebellum architecture? Or is that passé, now that Lady Antebellum has become Lady A, due to the fact that columns = slavery = plantations = racism? Better take Lincoln off the penny, as he denotes STRONG connotations of the Civil War, and we shan’t want to be reminded of that baser time. In fact, weren’t ALL times baser? Do not we become more woke and woke each day? At least, we all have the right to vote these days, but what of Yellow Dress up there? How can she get to the polling booths if Stan is taking the car? There was no mail-in in 1964. LBJ beat Goldwater that year, but perhaps his victory lies in part, due to all the housewives who simply could not make it to the booths that year, due to their golf-happy spouse’s Tuesday game. Makes you wonder.