“Yeah, no” is one of comedian Gary Gulman’s least favorite phrases, but it does fit here. While it is in fact Chuck Berry’s birthday, this is not a birthday cake as it appears at first glance. It’s actually Alpha Phi Alpha frat brothers Calvin, Glenn, and Jimmy examining blood samples collected by this bespectacled lady, performing Sickle Cell Anemia screenings.
Not quite the occasion to celebrate, unless your test results were negative.
And as for Chuck Berry, besotted by sex offender crimes and other legal troubles, the man DID have strong quadriceps.
But upon further inspection, it’s not Smith; it’s a UT campus policeman, arresting one of the Kappa Alphas during their traditional (and illegal) “confederate swim” in Littlefield Fountain. Bet that wouldn’t fly nowadays on any side of the aisle.
One notices in 1940s hairstyles that the hair just beyond the temples was often smooth or pinned back, making the voluminous curled areas appear ever poofier in contrast. Ever wonder why you don’t see pics of these women with long bangs in their faces (like the umpteen actresses on talk shows who constantly wipe their hair to the side)? There’s no Crystal Gayle or Kim K. hair here. And it wasn’t just fashion.
Able-bodied men were overseas, and women were manning the production lines. Long hair (or even one stray lock) could get caught in machines and not only injure the workers, but put production on hold until she was freed. Even Veronica Lake (of the oft-imitated peekaboo hairstyle) changed her style during the war effort, showing the dangers of untamed, unpinned hair.
flashbak.com
This youtube video explains why safety is of the utmost importance during factory work.
The end result is a new and improved, less seductive 4’11” Veronica, donning the updo called the “Victory Roll.” Sleek = Safe. And as you can see in the video, from behind, her hair makes a dazzling V for victory.
Many stars wore them, including Rita Hayworth.
(Photo by Pictorial Parade/Moviepix/Getty Images)
And Betty Grable.
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Now you know why your vintage pin-ups often wear their hair in an updo, and why the Allies won the war.
Evidently, Elam was a pelvis-forward kind of man. I can’t say as I ever voted for an editor in college. The best I mustered was my first presidential vote.
But college politics have always been a big deal. Selig was willing to endanger his own life by sitting on the hood of this here jalopy.
Others simply strolled with signs.
Lovely signs, I’ll give them that. Both Brown and Ferguson remind me of civil rights cases.
Folks sure showed enthusiasm for Sterling Steve. I hope he took it by a landslide.
These fellows at the Schreiner Institute are packed in like sardines! While some look dressed for bed, others seem ready for a night on the town. Perhaps they had to sleep in shifts to accommodate everyone.
1940s dorm life might have been cramped, but frat life was just plain odd. Check out this guitar fit for a giant! Where do you buy strings for that?
Cactus 1941
Meanwhile, the sorority girls were still playing with dolls…
A friend’s Facebook post today of his infant self, garbed in velour, got me thinking about my days of velour, which, incidentally would be a great autobiography title. I stumbled across this 1979 Sears catalog image, and was reminded of a velour green dress I donned at Christmas that year (with a white satin blouse underneath-trust me, ’twas all the rage), in the final vestiges of the unseemly 70s. Or was it velvet or velveteen? Who can discern the magic of textiles?
Listen, I could collage up this joint and post all kinds of velour images across this page, but honestly, it’s overkill. I think we get the gist of velour off of just this one plush-fabric pic. It’s a lipglossy, pre-Working Girl meets Studio 54 (I almost said Area 51; Freudian slip) era, with the skinny belt, skirt slit, and stilettos, to boot. I can’t tell if they’re 13 or 43. But look at Miss Purple’s jutted elbow. She is NOT having sassy backtalk today. You flip through that Rolodex, girl. Fierce.
Now should we bring velour back? Heavens, no. When I see it in the wild nowadays (once just this year at church), I shake my head. The moment is over. It only whispers “Goodwill reject bin” from the fibers of its sheen. And we all know the only relevant sheen in 2018 is a Netflix Martin.
But can we take two minutes to appreciate it today? Even just saying the word is fun. Velour. Make it rhyme with sewer. Is it flattering? Heavens, no. It makes pre-teens look four months pregnant. Does it keep you warm? Yes. Did it take these girls from playgrounds to champagne? Or is the lyric “from crayons to perfume”? Whatever. Velour does that. That’s the power of velour.
Lovely signs, I’ll give them that. Both Brown and Ferguson remind me of civil rights cases. 
I Don't Get It 