Doggies in the roaring 20s visit the beauty parlor — one even gets a manicure. Would that make it a mani-pet-i? Via.
Ah, it’s the time of year when the knitters in your life move from socks and blankets to scarves and headgear. If they’re particularly creative, they’ve got something custom in the works, like this alien facehugger skimask.
You can only wear it for a few hours, because after that time you need to switch over to these guys:
Knitters are an amazing folk: they can make almost anything you can imagine out of interlocking loops of string. The crew of the Nostromo would have survived if only one of them could have knit an alien containment unit before things got ugly.
We’re not sure what’s, err, behind this trend of embroidered rolls of toilet paper,
butt however, these gifts are sure to create a whole lot of flushing. First, gift giver and receiver of the gift alike will flush — and then the gift itself will be flushed down the toilet. This may just be one time where something is worth exactly the paper it is printed on.
We suppose these are classier variations on the old potty humor gifts of Spencer’s and the like, where each sheet of two-ply had a gag on it or some puzzle to do. (I, for one, will say this is a gift to gag on — and if you give me one, I will have crosswords for you.) They also scream, “Hey, I’ve got an embroidery function on my sewing machine — let’s try to make some money!”
I don’t exactly like the idea of some stranger fondling my tp before I get it; I sure hope they always wash their hands before they work on their sewing projects.
Some of these don’t even stick with the crapper motifs and present themselves with decorator designs and other
sediments sentiments. Some of which have implications that do not seem to have been well thought out. Yule You’ll note the holiday designs too.
Nothing says, “Happy Anniversary!” like a scatological or golden showers reference.
And by “we” I mean Kitschy Kitschy Coo and the Smithsonian — and the Smithsonian really wants to know, “Who has your favorite historic facial hair?”
While there are tons of old photographs to choose from (including at the Smithsonian’s Pinterest Board), I’m going to vote for Dwight Blocker Bowers. Not for his own mustache (I’m not even sure he has one!) but because he’s a curator in the Division of Culture and the Arts and, as such, is in charge of these fake mustaches.
I won’t point any fingers, but someone we know (*cough* hubby) collects old wigs; I find the old facial-hair wigs much more interesting.
Seeburg was a jukebox maker who hit upon a novel idea: let’s build a jukebox that plays special albums, 45min on a side, and make it peppy, instrumental music to play in stores and offices. The Seeburg 1000 was born! You can listen to this proto-Muzak now, as a constant online stream, plenty of music to make you feel like cleaning your whole house RIGHT NOW.
That’s Marge Redmond, the actress who played Sister Jacqueline in The Flying Nun, sporting a very kitschy robe while sitting at the makeup mirror. This photo was part of an article in Inside Movie Magazine, November 1968.
Once upon a time, Redmond was flying high as the wife of Jack Weston; but they would divorce and Redmond would not remarry. (At least she has not yet.) The divorce must have come some time after this 1981 article about Redmond and Weston. In that People article, Redmond & Weston (which sounds like some old vaudeville act) discuss how much they disliked living in L.A. Redmond said, “All they were making were Westerns and gangster shows and the women were all 16 or 60. I’m glad I got out when the jiggle started. TV is for those girls with the big boobs.” Kind of funny Redmond would knock “jiggles” when she was at that time playing Sarah Tucker, the pudding in a cloud lady, for Cool Whip.