A rundown of Victorian Atchison’s most eligible bachelors, as published in The Atchison Globe, January 6, 1885. Via Ye Olde News, a Tumblr site that actually does document where stuff comes from. (Yes, I Tumbl(r) from time-to-time.)
Ah, I love tracking old romance in newspapers — a la the Von Dewitz twits.
Ah, yes, another reminder that women belong to men; we are so much their property, that you can woo them with that fact on a Valentine. (Vintage Valentine via kimmly.
How about this vintage novelty telephone sweater from the 50’s? Via terrasita.
This vintage Valentine kinda has the holidays all jumbled-together; but I love it. Via capwheel.
Completely inappropriate panties with “Think Young! It’s Our Only Hope!” printed on them — with a little girl in her nightdress running screaming into the night. Oh, ish. Via pink girl vintage.
It’s been a few years since I did a racist Valentine’s post, so I thought it was time for another.
Vintage Black Americana Valentine, complete with watermelon and poor puns, via sienna42:
You don’t need to know that the maker of this vintage Valentine (available via Vintage-Mood-Swings) is Klinker Kraft Kard, Los Angeles (triple “k”s are always suspicious to me, especially when this card was made in 1932) to note the poor stereotypes of the “frugal” Scots who “save dates” via a Valentine with a calender:
This vintage Valentine’s Day postcard from D-L-Antiques-and-Collectibles is not only offensive to Asians, but who wants to be just another girl in a man “ports” in?
This next one from lut20 is racist for sure — but the reference to “ball and chain” has me a bit confused… It sure could be sexist, but then there are only men on the card, so…
I’m invoking the name and memory of Joan Crawford to make a plea for those of you in the US to take action against those who would force women to face the wire hangers of the past.
You must realize that the wealthy will always send their sisters, daughters, wives and girlfriends to other places for safe, legal abortions — even while they seek to deny the rest of us the rights to such “padded hangers.” So even if an abortion is against your morality, if it’s not a choice you could make, recognize the rights each of us has to make our own choices — safe choices which allow for the right to have future children, rather than render ourselves infertile (or worse) by seeking alternatives.
The women are already here, already have rights. Let each woman choose. If you believe it is against God’s will, then let him hand down the decree; you don’t get to play God in the name of preventing others from doing so.
Take action today.
Help Stop the “Stupak on Steroid” Agenda and Sign The Petition to stop the GOP war on women’s health.
I found this photo of a National Housewives League meeting Detroit, Michigan, in 1945 while researching the Organized Housewives, a completely unrelated group.
The National Housewives’ League of America was founded in the early part of the twentieth century to advance the economic status of African Americans. Its mission was to encourage African American housewives to patronize African American-owned businesses through “directed spending.”
The Rev. William H. Peck and his wife Fannie B. Peck, after hearing Alben L. Holsey of the National Negro Business League and Tuskegee Institute speak about the successes of the Colored Merchants Association and the New York Housewives’ Association, were inspired to create similar organizations in Detroit. Rev. Peck organized the Booker T. Washington Trade Association in April 1930. Mrs. Peck, believing that the support of those women who controlled most household budgets — housewives — was essential to any business success, founded the Housewives’ League of Detroit on June 10, 1930, with 50 members. In the next couple of years, Mrs. Peck went on to organize leagues in Cleveland, Cincinnati, and Toledo, Ohio; Indianapolis, Ind.; Pittsburgh, Pa.; Kansas City, Mo.; and Jacksonville, Fla. By 1932, Alben Holsey, impressed with the response of the women in the leagues, invited Mrs. Peck and the other league representatives to meet in New York City to form a national committee, which Mrs. Peck chaired. The following year, the national committee met in Durham, N.C., in concert with the National Negro Business League, and formally organized the National Housewives’ League of America, Inc. Mrs. Peck was elected the first president of the organization.
I find this notion of housewives, and the purchase power of women in general, quite incredible… Normally we only hear of the economic power of those who control most household budgets in terms of boycotts, not as positive actions and long term change-making acts too.
Some related facts on the economic powers of women, which I heartily suggest you use to best impact social and economic change along with your household budget:
From 2005 Wow! Quick Facts Book, published by United States Census Bureau:
* Women control 80 percent of household spending
* They make up 47 percent of investors
* Women buy 81 percent of all products and services
* They buy 75 percent of all over-the-counter medications
* They make 81 percent of all retail purchases
* Women buy 82 percent of all groceries
* Women sign 80 percent of all checks written in the United States
* They make up 40 percent of all business travelers
* They make 51 percent of all travel and consumer electronics purchases
* Women influence 85 percent of all automobile purchases
* They head up 40 percent of all U.S. households with incomes over $600,000
* They own 66 percent of all home-based businesses
* Women have been the majority of voters in the United States since 1964
For more information on the history of the Housewives League, see Housewives League of Detroit (HLD) and the records at Bentley Historical Library at the University of Michigan (where the images are from).
From a Modern Woman magazine from the 40’s, some interesting news…
For the benefit of eighteenth century ladies who didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain, a Parasol Lend-company flourished in Paris, France, about the year 1776. Negro attendants carried the parasols and collected payment upon delivering a charge at her destination. In those times, a parasol cost too much for an average woman to own.
An ad for Zolar fortune telling cards and Ouji Genii Board found in Rance Romance & Adventures, May 1971.
Via WFMU.
A vintage ad (Newsweek, 1950), in which those wise and merciful corporations, Electric Light & Power Companies, expose their virtues while exposing the menace that is government regulation, comparing it to snake oil. My fav line is one that Glenn Beck himself could have written or spit: “What they don’t realize is: when any government takes over enough things, socialism comes automatically.” I guess we all just need to tell government to back off and entrust our lives to corporations. Not.
An ad for Life of Lincoln, by Ida M. Tarbell (found on page 65 of the March 1925 issue of The Mentor magazine), which thought the best promotional effort would be to highlight on of Lincoln’s personal checks. The check, “check number 52,” was made payable to “Colored man, with one leg.”
Inside the pages of Modern Woman Magazine, A Magazine Published By The Ice Industry, (Volume 17, Number 1, 1948), an article on how to wash problem fabrics by Mrs. Jean Robinson, “Washability Expert, White King Soap Co.” This particular Mrs. Jean Robinson is somewhat lost to history, but I was reminded of a few things…
As a collector of vintage magazines, I am continually reminded that not much has changed in publishing over the years — and that most of this should be applied to publishing on the web, including blogging. Today’s example, the “washability expert” and her article.
While a title like Washability Expert seems as made-up as any user ID, it can only be assumed that Mrs. Robinson was employed by the soap company much the way many baking product companies had baking experts — experts who created more than just recipes or kitchen tips, but marketing material.
Every (good) recipe or tip produced was put to use cementing relationships with current consumers or cooking up relationships with new customers. Recipes and tips might be collected for publication in cookbooks and brochures, or they might be offered as informational articles to be published in newspapers and magazines — even, as with Mrs. Robinson’s, in corporate publications performing their own marketing efforts. And each was generally an opportunity for a press release too.
The questions were the same as now:
Are there enough recipes/tips for a publication? If so, is it good enough to sell? Or would it be of better use to offer it to customers for free? In either case, should offers be made via a special purchase, direct mail, etc., and is your offer worthy of a press release?
Would it be best to slowly compile and distribute the tips/recipes over time in your own publication, be the sole source for your knowledge? Or should you reach out to other publications, let them publish your wisdom and increase awareness about your products and services?
If and when you do want to share your knowledge(i.e. a guest blog post) to promote your company/site, how do you get them interested in doing so?
The one advantage larger companies had over today’s self-publishing is that Mrs. Jean Robinson and her ilk only had the responsibility of creating the tip, recipe, or article; someone else decided how to make the best use of it.
That’s probably the most markedly different thing about the low-barrier world of the Internet — it’s no longer good enough to just to be an expert, you have to know a lot about marketing too.
(Insert plug for my marketing and blog tour services here.)
Via the fabulous Chateau Thombeau, we find out just who robbed the rainbow to make us look gay — hey, why isn’t this guy in the Skittles ads? I bet he sounds just like the new Chester Cheeto.
At some point, everyone working on the Internet faces decisions about advertising and affiliate programs. Some people even start a blog for this “passive income,” believing that it’s as easy as setting up some links and then sitting back to let the income stream in; but that’s not necessarily what happens…
So I’ve got a white paper on the subject. It’s based on my 20+ years of working on the web; priced at $7, that’s less than 35 cents a year!
This white paper is written mainly for bloggers & website owners, to assist them in evaluating affiliate and advertising programs. However, it will also help those looking to purchase advertising &/or promote their own affiliate programs by helping them to understand the sorts of concerns they may encounter along the way.
Ranch Romances & Adventures, May, 1971.
Contrary to what Jack Martin/Gary Dobbs says, I do not see Ranch Romance (& Adventures) magazines as primarily for women.
Jack/Gary says they must be “aimed at young women since all of the stories have a romantic element to them.” But come on now, dude, I know this may be difficult for a man who loves Westerns to admit but the whole genre – from books to films — is nothing but male romance novels and dick flicks. Sure, there’s some action in there; but the guns and body counts are there to win the damsel, the dame — the 500 miles he would walk just to fall down at her door
Stop living in denial.
You men are just as much suckers for romance as we women are. You want to read about a good chaste kiss, a ravishing bodice ripping — and this publication proves it.
Or does it… Perhaps I am biased more than a bit by my feminine experiences and feminist equality-seeking nature. For over at Laurie’s Wild West, Laurie Powers shares the story behind the pulp magazine, using the publication founder’s own words. Harold Hersey claimed full credit for launching Ranch Romances in September 1924 (The “Adventures” joined the “Ranch Romances” in 1969) in his biography, Pulpwood Editor
My home run was Ranch Romances. I conceived of the idea of combining the Western and the love themes in a single magazine under the title of Western Love Stories. Our distributors considered it too close an imitation of the Street & Smith titles. We were told to think up another. The result was Ranch Romances and it was an almost instantaneous hit with women readers. Instead of the cowboy hero, we offered the cowgirl heroine. Bina Flynn, the editor we chose to handle the fresh idea, built the magazine into a huge success.
While I think combining Westerns and Romances is redundant, either I’m wrong — or Hersey’s another one of these men afraid to admit the romantic truth about men. Maybe, just maybe, the truth of Ranch Romances‘ success lies in the complicated truth of this simple line: “Instead of the cowboy hero, we offered the cowgirl heroine.”
Women likely responded to dreaming the possible dream of a strong female heroine who was still desired by men. Men likely felt reciprocally reassured that even today’s ballsy woman still could be wooed and won by a macho male. (However, as always, the stories end before the truly difficult part of meshing roles and living happily ever after begins; like dirty dishes in the sink, no one wants to get to that part.)
Laurie Powers touches on some of this modernized gender stuff in her post too, so read that as Exhibit A. And as further proof of the male adoption of this publication I’ll let you know that the previous owner of my May 1971 issue was male. And check out the sexist ad on the back cover.
Anyway, this Ranch Romances & Adventures I have makes me sad. (It probably made others sad too as it was the publication’s last year.)
Ranch Romances may have been more of a pulp publication, prior to the mid-1960s at least, with fantastic graphics and fantasy fiction, but by this point the magazine was more personals ads digest than pulpy delight.
Of course, I may be biased. Again. I prefer the vintage styles more than the retro ones, and my “like” barometer is built upon that grading system. But from what I’ve seen and read, Rance Romances & Adventures is a desperate combination of personal pleas and ads designed to make money off those in despair.
(I’ll be sharing more of scans from this particular issue here and over at Kitschy Kitschy Coo as Valentine’s Day approaches.)
I think Betsey Johnson must hire non-English speaking peoples to name her products, using some translation software to easily convert their ideas to nonsensical gibberish now… Because Locking Lips Hobo sounds like a lot of the spam I receive.
Who knows, maybe such random word alignment actually sells stuff>
I found this gem in my Shop It To Me Sale Mail Alert.
No actual date listed for this anti-suffrage postcard.
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Picture the scene… It’s 1974 and those women’s libbers are everywhere. Before you know it, those damn women will have screwed up everything. Hell, we won’t even be able to tell the boys from the girls. Oh my gawd, what about the children?! How do you combat it? Big Fluttery Lashes.
The amazingly-trademarked Big Fluttery Lashes were copyrighted in 1974, by Imagineering Inc., Phoenix, Arizona (but made in Hong Kong). The lashes sold for 39 cents and they were safe & non-toxic (unless you’re under the age of three).
And good news, boys; if you were caught with one on your upper lip (or simply caught with the package), you could simply say it was a mustache — the package even says so!
Image via Tiki Ranch.
I’m not the only one who sees breasts here, am I?
An ad from 1969 that likely couldn’t be published today:
OK, so it reads “an extra head,” not just “extra head” or just plain old “head,” but still, ad execs today would just know what we’d be reading into the buzzing gift of a Lady Remington.
Lady Remingtons, by the way, were quite popular gifts, judging by the number of them found at garage sales, thrift stores, etc. So this ad may have sent just the right message after all. *wink*
We Americans (at least those who watched NBC) had Marjorie Hellen, color TV “identification girl”; across the pond, BBC watchers had “Carole and the clown” test pattern.
The test pattern, featuring eight-year-old Carole Hersee, was broadcast between 1967 and 1998, amounting to 70,000 hours of screen time — and in January of 2009 that test pattern returned. The BBC has rescanned the original transparency in high definition to help consumers set up the latest TV sets.
Below is a photo of Carole Hersee in 2009, when she was 49.
“Working Mothers Needn’t Leave Home,” by Bettijane Eisenpreis, as published in My Baby, June 1962, isn’t terribly earth-shattering per se — other than, perhaps, our notions of the time period. This is how the article begins:
The working mother has long been part of the American scene. Still, many career women feel saddened at leaving their children, Their solution: be housewife, mother and part-time career woman by working in your own home.
What can you do at home? Just about anything. Shoes are designed, books translated, rugs woven, advertising campaigns created, research done, and parties planned from home. This article was written at home.
Honestly, it reads like many WAHM sites and books. (You can click the scans below to read the article in full.) But one thing sort of nags at me a bit…
The name Bettijane Eisenpreis isn’t common, so I believe she is the author of many magazine articles and a few books, including Coping with Scoliosis (1998) — which makes me wonder if Bettijane didn’t work from home because of her health situation. …Not that I do (or would) feel the same about her authoring Coping: A Young Woman’s Guide to Breast Cancer Prevention. So what does that say about me?
I’ll admit I knew nothing about this retro joke book when I snagged it at an antique shop; all I needed to pick it up was a stork on the front, and the $1 price penciled inside allowed me to bring it home.
(Son Of A Son Of… 101 Aggie Jokes, Vol. 3, copyright 1969, Gigem Press (my copy is a First Printing, September, 1969) was created to be a postal piece.)
The front cover birth control gag goes like this:
Do you know what Aggies do with birth control pills?
They feed them to storks.
And that should be enough to satisfy a dollar purchase — but I’m obsessive, remember?
First I had to learn what an “Aggie” was or is: students (current and former) at Texas A&M University are called Aggies after the school’s agricultural roots. Then Barry Popik had to educate me on what turns out to be a rather fascinating bit of history about these very books:
Aggie jokes became legendary because of two events in 1963 and 1965. In 1963, Texas A&M started to admit women. The University of Texas (already co-ed) and others saw humor in this situation. In 1965, the book 101 Aggie Jokes was published. The book would go through several reprintings and new editions.
And so it seems this little joke book was destined to find its way into my feminism collection. Even if the book isn’t all about gender or the sexes, it fits the bill; here’s Exhibit B:
Did you hear about the Aggie who thought a sanitary belt was the first drink out of the bottle?
Ba-dum-dum!
I’ll couch my estimation of this kitschy book’s value with the publishers sentiments on the title page:
This collection of jokes has been assembled from general public sources. It is not the intention of the publishers to ridicule or degrade any institution or individual. The purpose is to chronicle an important chapter in American humor.
To cover my own ass, I’ll also include “gender” along with institutions and individuals. *wink*
FYI, the publishers name is based on another Aggie reference, the Gig ’em greeting.
I’ll admit that I don’t have a clue as to what this vintage photo is really about. It could be innocent silliness; it could be some sort of kinky soft-core fantasy.
But when I look at it, I’m reminded of my sister.
When we were kids on family vacation one year, my sister had one of her dramatic fits of anger just as we were all walking from the hotel room to the car. As luck would have it, there outside of the rooms ins some sort of outdoor covered area, along with the ice and vending machines, there was a baby’s crib, left by housekeeping or something. Since my sister was acting like a baby, my dad picked up my sister (who was then roughly 10 years old) and placed her in the crib.
My sister should have been able to get out, but being so consumed and fraught with anger, she couldn’t mobilize such an effort. This made her even more furious.
Her face was so red, her fists were clenched in rage beating on the top rail of the crib’s walls — her screams demanding her release could barely be understood above her own howls of fury.
And we, my parents and myself, just stood there, watching. And laughing. At a safe enough distance.
The laughing only enraged my sister more, keeping her helpless and trapped in the baby’s crib.
Eventually she was spent. With nothing left to give, her emotional skies cleared, and the whole thing passed. Too exhausted from it all, she still couldn’t get herself out so my dad picked her up for the second time that morning and swung her back down to the ground.
And we went on our way to get breakfast.
Photo via Shop-Till-You-Hop-Photo-Store.
I love words, and I don’t just mean when I use them to blither about blogging; I love saying words.
But not just any words… I relish the feeling of saying certain words, usually in pairs, forcing the proper pronunciation even if tweaking their meanings.
I think it began at some point in junior high… I’m not sure how or why, of any context for learning the term, but once I heard “spina bifida,” I couldn’t say it enough. It was a delight for my mouth and tongue to form and repeat over and over again in a rush. What a rush!
However, being that it’s a Bad Thing, I then turned it into a swear — only uttered when alone. I’d sputter an angry “spina bifida” when stubbed my toe or something.
After awhile, the Pavlovian response was to equate the spoken word with the pain and I stopped doing it. …Saying the medical condition’s name, not stubbing my toe or otherwise hurting myself, that is. I am still a klutz.
As an adult, my phrase-o-fun became “naked gnomes” — something I found as fun to visually imagine as to physically say.
Actually I can, and often do, cheer myself up still today (quite literally), saying “Naked gnomes!” It makes me giggle. Even when the kids wrinkle their noses at any utterance of any nudity. Or maybe that’s an added benefit. …That’s a tough one to call.
Go ahead, try it yourself. Say, “Naked gnomes!” a few times and see if you don’t find yourself smiling.
The latest spate of pharmaceutical ads has made “norepinephrine” my latest bit of word fun.
I know, I know; it’s only one word. But I did say that usually it was pairs of words — plus, my twist is that I pronounce it “Nora Pinephron.”
“Why?” I imagine you ask (because certainly you asked neither for nor about any of this).
Because the first time I recall hearing about norepinephrine it was in conjunction with a means of treating depression, and I instantly thought of Nora Ephron; she certainly lifts my depression.
It is at this point that the educated word lover in me is reminded of all my formal English and professional communication education; this post, along with breaking several grammar conventions, I am sure, is lacking the most very basic cornerstones of communication: A freaking point.
I have no real purpose for sharing any of this. But if you yourself enjoy speaking specific words, or give mine a try and are delighted in the experience, please let me know. Maybe then I have a point after all.
Featured on the cover of People Today, September 22, 1954, was “Marjorie Hellen… TV’s Golden Girl.”
Her story begins on page 55, filed under “People In TV,” Hellen’s story is titled She’s ‘Compatible’ Marjorie Hellen Is Strawberry Blond Trade-Mark on Color TV.
If that’s not intriguing enough, check out the caption under the photo: “Marjorie And Her Rival Black-And-White Test Pattern (rear)”.
From the article:
Millions of NBC-TV viewers are getting slightly frustrated whenever the smiling image of lovely Marjorie Hellen flashes on their black-and-white screens with her quiet announcement: “The following program…will be broadcast in color …” The reason: Around 10,000 TV sets in the U.S., costing between $495 and $1,100, are showing the same girl as she appears on PEOPLE TODAY’S cover–gray-eyed, strawberry blond.
Marjorie, who doubles as a live test pattern for sensitive color cameras, is the “identification girl” for NBC Color TV, which has scheduled 39 90-minute “spectaculars” for its compatible system (the shows can also be received in black-and-white) during 1954-1955.
The article credits “an attack of anemia” for Hellen getting the gig — not specifically for her coloring (though only her doctor knows for sure), but for her availability:
It kept her from going to school, made her available when Claude Traverse, manager of NBC’s color unit, selected her from photos as having the “ideal flesh tone” for lining up color cameras.
Hellen may be more familiar to you as Leslie Parrish; she changed her name in 1959.
If you have difficulty being a woman and knowing what you want, you can blame it on Emilio Pucci‘s death.
In this vintage lingerie ad for Pucci‘s Fiore Festa line for Formfit Rogers the text boasts, “How does he know what women want before they know themselves?”
Because women are such fickle stupid creatures, we don’t even know what we want to wear.
Even if all we do is shop.
Right?
It’s true; I have conflicting responses to vintage lingerie advertising. But who doesn’t?
(And if you don’t, then we should talk!)
Image via devocanada.