Nope, it’s not Texas, and it’s not rain, although we could use it.
I can’t tell you the last time I wore a smile so big as those baton twirlers, who seem tickled pink.
The contest took place in Soldier Field, Chicago in 1957.
I hope no noggins were injured from errant batons.
These days, I imagine they’d have to wear helmets and sign a non-litigation form.
Wow, this ad campaign has got it all. The bandwagon technique; he’s running with the pack. He doesn’t care about personality; he only dates Eye Tonics. So if you’re the angel cake that’s trying to catch the eye of a dark hunk of muscle like Chuck, you better spread some fancy frosting all over you, ladies! It’s not optional; Chuck says it’s glamour homework. It’s your assignment! Remember, he’s for the filly with an even pace!
So what is this ad even selling, other than insecurity? This stylish lass, though trim and decked out in modern garb, seems to be apprehensive about her potential suitors. Probably because she has a secret. A secret that keeps her elbows close to her side, while the boys wave their arms about. She reeks.
But for a few coins, she can rate with fellows like Chuck. Thank you, ARRID!
Seems like an easy way to snag a date with boys who possess a molasses drawl. Just a swipe in your pits, and you’re done!
Actually, it’s neither Muscle Shoals nor Muscle Beach, but rather like Muscle Valley, as these tots flex their biceps in a ridge overlooking California’s Antelope Valley in 1962. With perseverance, they might have tanks like Popeye.
Italian teens peddle their wares for coins on the Boston streets near Quincy Market and Feneuil Hall, which opened in 1743. 1743? You Northeasterners will be much more familiar with structures that old, but for a Texan, 1743 meant my state was still Mexico. How interesting it would be to imagine your great-great-great grandparents walking the same Boston streets centuries before you, keeping the city fed during the Depression, and feeling pride in work.
Below, we see plump green cucumbers being sold by pushcart vendor Signor Passanisil, as the Customhouse Tower rises in the background.
Over 100 years ago, these Jewish children practiced oral hygiene with a standard “Toothbrush Drill,” popular at New York public schools. Pretty sure these kids didn’t have gingivitis.
Good oral hygiene was also important for these young women during singing class at Jewish People’s School in Otwock, Poland in the 1920s. Note that every single one wore her hair bobbed.
If those girls played their cards right, they might end up with nice Jewish boys, like the ones below at Yeshiva College in NYC, where students were able to “harmoniously combine the best of modern culture with the learning and the spirit of Torah.”
Today let’s pause and be grateful that we have the freedom to worship in our country without being persecuted.
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!
Mid-century festivities seemed to involve the tight mass gathering of young people.
This Renault is overflowing with ladies.
But more popular than cramming cars was cramming booths. This telephone booth is purportedly crammed with 22 California college boys. The only cramming I did in college was for exams.
Another tactic was to go in sideways. Good thing most folks weighed under 200 lbs then. I’d hate to be the fellow at the bottom or the one with a receiver stuck in my side.
Today’s cramming is mostly limited to food. And boy, do we ace that!
Kiddos swing their hips at New Jersey’s Brookside Swim Club during the 1950s, while moms look on. With a club record of 3000 spins (who was counting?), a 10-year-old boy claimed victory. I bet most of them didn’t last two minutes.
Spin while you can, son. Vertigo sets in as you age, at least in my case. Unless of course, the hoop is an onion ring. But then you get your cardigan and khakis all oily.