Category: Style

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!

How To Make That Bob Mackie Miss Starlett Dress

Could there be a more fetching color than kelly green? I think not. And “if you want to make like 1947” (which we all do, let’s be honest), then you’d do well to keep a longer hem. See below for more tips on how to be slimmed out like a soda straw.

Remember this classic?

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.

Masks Are In, Gloves Are Out

Kodachromes by Joseph J. Scherschel and James L Stanfield, June 1967 NGS

Mrs. James Caufield (because magazines didn’t care about married women’s first names) shapes cotton gloves at the Prairie Glove plant in Carlinville, Illinois on what appears to be a giant fork. At this point in 1967, the firm employed 170 townspeople and churned out 10,000 pairs a week. Is it me, or do they look Goliath-sized?

Personally, we’ve stopped our usage of gloves and simply wear masks and use sanitizer as of late–some wonderfully smelling ones from Bath & Body that we procured yesterday in a clean, manly scent, as well as a Sunshiney lemon one. It is a bit disconcerting to watch a waitress wearing the same gloves at an outdoor restaurant, bring your drinks (touching the rims, which was a HUGE server no-no back in my day), then touch your neighbor’s plates, etc, throughout the entire meal. I would have rathered she just washed her hands repeatedly. Such is our new learning curve.

I’m still surprised how hard it is for folks to figure out how to use gloves, that as soon as they are covered in germs, you toss them, instead of climbing into your car and grabbing your wheel and touching your radio and yanking the emergency breaks. Now you’ve just transferred all the nasty germs all over your car. Folks are stupid. Guess we should stick to the OG gloves when this pandemic is over.

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1948 Sexiest Beard Contest

Texas Tech 1948

Yikes, if this was what passed for a beard in 1948, that’s a sad, sad state for facial hair. My brother-in-law is only capable of patchy spots on his face, but my husband can grow a full beard quickly. Now that it’s mostly white, he resembles Santa with only the aid of his round metal readers. Nobody likes a Santa with a fake beard.

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Not These Kind Of Masks

Nat Geo 3/69

I’ve never worn a mask like this. I’ve never been in a temperature that was a single degree. The folks in this pic are sitting (voluntarily) outside, in thirteen degrees below zero. Now I know many of you Yankees (that’s everyone above the Mason-Dixon line to me) and Canadians will scoff and wave your hands. “Oh, that’s NOTHING!” Well, it sounds horrendous. But football fans are die-hard, and this couple was among 50,000 other crazy fools.

It was the FIRST NFL game ever played in subzero weather. New Year’s Eve, 1967, Green Bay’s Lambeau Field, kicking off to the Dallas Cowboys. And while the Packers scored a victory, the fans may have proven a bit too rowdy. RIP, goal post.

This Sprite Is Tight But Randy Is Dandy

47 Yucca

Who needs a carbonated beverage when hot and hunky Randy is only a meter away, and his Chanel Pour Monsieur is wafting toward you on the wings of love, mingled with the musky scent of teen athlete? Focus, Joyce, or you’ll drop your pom.

Hormones are high all around. Looks like she’s got designs on this guy.

The sight of Bill literally made Sally’s jaw fall open.

Too much nuzzling!

38 Cactus

A’courting we shall go.

61 Round Up

Whoa, boy…

1950 Cactus

He shall be mine by nightfall. I will yet ensnare him.

61 Round Up