Category: Vintage

Not Enough Marcias

IndianaU1973018

Another day, another dorm, another opportunity to ask, “Why?” This here is a shot of the ladies of the dorm labelled simply as “2-A” in the 1973 Indiana University annual. I’m not sure what catches the eye first: the look of ennui and apathy from Heavy-Lidded Ladyfingers in the front row, or her barefoot buddy holding a bottle of Vermont Maple Syrup on her knee. Or is it not maple syrup? Yes, I skipped vested turtleneck woman.

Then we have the skipper, whose eyes are shut, holding some sort of stuffed animal, a girl with a violin, a girl with a tennis racket, a girl with a GOLDFISH BOWL and a shirt that reads “Jesus” where the Pepsi logo should be. We make our way back with the wallflower, the trio of alcoholics, your nobody (she called today), the one in the unfortunate circus pants, the two Jan Bradies (prone to suffering from the Jan Brady Effect), and the girl in the classic mannequin head with a shag hairdo on a platter pose. It never gets old. Speaking of the two Jans, chances were high that one of these girls was actually named Janet or Janice, which ranked high during their birth year.

But the top five names were:

  • Mary
  • Linda
  • Deborah
  • Patricia
  • Susan

Still, who wouldn’t want to be a Marcia (other than Gloria Steinem, who turns 80 today)?

http://michaela-and-the-diamonds.tumblr.com/
http://michaela-and-the-diamonds.tumblr.com
/

You’d Be A Smiley Face, Too

Indiana University Women's Dorm 1973
Indiana University Women’s Dorm 1973

Yay, I scored a new yearbook today! You Indiana people (who know who you are) should feel excited! You might want to defend your public university here and explain why these ladies would have posed for a portrait in their towels. Why would they agree to that? Plus, towels then were so small. Think about those awful scratchy towels in your grandparents’ linen closet. Yuck. We don’t even use towels in our house, only “bath sheets” as tall as we are, plush and soft against our skin. Come to think of it, my dorm never took a group shot at all. Not in clothes or out of them. So much about the 1970s that doesn’t make sense…

Girls Don’t Make Passes At Boys Who Crochet Doilies

49Comet003

Years ago, when I was single and determined not to repeat the sins of the past, I made a list of what I wanted in the next (and final) man. I have misplaced said list, but I recall that one was that he did not drive a Miata (apparently there were Miatas in spades at the time, and ain’t nobody got time to rebuild the confidence of a man who’s overcompensating), that he did not smoke (I was tired of doing laundry that smelled like a bar), and that he could change his own oil (preferably in his truck). He also could not be vegan nor vegetarian, and he would have to be quick on the draw if Enya popped up on the radio, because Heaven knows I hate me some Enya. Change that station pronto! Apparently I’m not the only one.

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But nowhere on that list did it require that he be a skilled yarnswoman or masterquilter or whatever you call one who sews things (other than Chinese minors in factories). When I did finally begin dating my now-husband, he met about 90% of that list. So I took him. Only after we were married, did I realize that a deer-hunting, guitar-playing, camo-clad Texas boy could also operate the pedal of a sewing machine. And when our son inevitably ripped buttons off his clothes or tore his jeans, my husband could fix it. Like Rosey Freaking Grier.

roseygOkay, he wasn’t hunched over with a needle and thread on a shag carpet next to a gold couch, doing a self-portrait, but you get my point. On the seesaw of gender identity, the seesaw weighed heavily on the masculine. But he could still fix my hem of my Ally McBeal power suit if need be, so I could get back to my fluorescent-lit office job, bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan. Yep, that’s me in my Enjoli.

http://www.freerepublic.com/
http://www.freerepublic.com/

But don’t go thinking we ladies all want sensitive men. We don’t. You can use tools, but you don’t have to be one. Mostly we just want to talk. Sit next to us and listen while we TALK TALK TALK incessantly about whatever is on our minds. Just nod and “hmmm” periodically and let us use up our daily word count, which is approximately 13,000 more words than yours. Case in point:

funny-celebrity-pictures-bawk-bawk