Modern Woman Monday: More Vintage Cookbooks

Serving Up Vintage Recipes: Collecting Cook Books, by Val Ubell.

High-Five Fridays #10

Less kitschy, but still eyebrow raising...

1) Hitler and the Seven Dwarfs likely needs some sort of an introduction (if you haven't heard about it yet), but I like to make you curious enough to click.

2) A beautiful (and slightly creepy) vintage tablecloth with the embroidered signatures of British WWII prisoners.

Too cool for school...

3) Slippity-do-da's Very Draining Post, Indeed.

4) KKC was Found in Mom's Basement. (How'd we get in her mom's basement?)

5) A high-five to Marty Weil for his patience during my interview with him at CQ.

Want to give high-fives too? Participation is a lot like Thursday Thirteen, only your post is links to who and what you like. (Plus, it's only 5 instead of 13!)

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

Find more High-Five Friday folks here!

The Center

Isn't creamy.

Isn't molten lava.

It's a Melmac center.



Vintage ad from 1957, sporting all the current flavors, including design names for you Melmac collectors.

I Spend My Saturday Nights Reading Old Magazines

Yes, I do read the old magazines, not just mock the pictures. It's a grand way to relax after a frantic day at the auctions.

Lurking within the pages of the November 1957 issue of Good Housekeeping was this snippet on Foible Spotters:


Reading it -- and then again, out loud, to hubby -- I couldn't stop giggling; especially at this:

Two foible spotters extraordinary (they spot their own as well as other people's) have new books out this fall that deserve your attention. Sylvia Wright's Get Away from Me with Those Christmas Gifts and Jean Kerr's Please Don't Pick the Daisies...

Now the title of Wright's book had me rolling. It struck me as funny, this fear of Christmas gifts, but also it was odd as I'd never previously heard of Wright's books yet Kerr's book can literally be purchased by the pound (and for a dime, at that).

When curious, turn to the Internets.

A quick search and I discovered that Wright's book is a collection of essays, including the titular work which appeared in Harper's, December, 1952. From this work Wright is heralded by some as the 'foible spotter' to credit with the anti-commercialization of Christmas.

Only they don't say it so nicely.

Like Stephen Bayley who wrote that Wright was also:

a connoisseur of Yuletide horror. Her splendid 1957 collection of essays, Get away from me with those Christmas gifts!, has an urgent title which nicely captures the damaging psychoses stimulated in the pious and puritanical during this time of brainless excess and bogus ritualised jollity. What can be more depressing than an electric pepper mill? Christmas gifts are, by definition, things we do not need.

Sheesh. I'll get back to that another time -- and no, I'm not avoiding it because as Bayley would accuse, I'm suffering from a "clear correlation between a taste for decoration and poor education." I'm just not in the mood to get side-tracked at the moment.

Back to Wright.

Also in her book, Wright apparently coined the term Mondegreen, which is basically the explanation behind why some folks sing Scuse me, while I kiss this guy while listening to Hendrix. (Though this is one of the more noted examples of such misheard phrases or mondegreens, there is evidence to support your friend's claim that he's singing what Jimi did.)

And I would have known none of this if I didn't waste spend my Saturday nights reading old magazines.

High-Five Fridays #5

1) William at Hang Fire Books overheard this conversation between two Salvation Army workers.

2) I mock a lot of crafts here, but as you've likely expected I am also charmed by many too -- I must be at some level to save all the stuff I do. *wink* For those who admit their problem hobby, check out Vintage Craft Patterns for free old instructions.

3) Somewhat related is Make. It's not always 'old' but it's of the same DIY spirit that you see in Popular Mechanics, Work Basket etc.

4) High-fives in general to coisas do arco da velha "bizarre - burlesque - freaks - circus - kitsch - pulp - mexico". Don't worry, it's in English -- but even ifin t'weren't, you'd enjoy the images & understand it all the same. (Like you understand what I say here half the time anyway.)

5) Most of you probably know of the Vintage Ad community at LiveJournal, but it's worth a high-five for its continued dedication.

Want to give high-fives too? Participation is a lot like Thursday Thirteen, only your post is links to who and what you like.

Find out how to give your High-Five Fridays here!

The purpose of this meme is to give high-fives to 5 people, posts, blogs and/or websites you've admired during the week. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 5 high-fives on Friday. Trackbacks, pings, linky widgets, comment links accepted!

Visiting fellow High-Fivers is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your High-Fives in others comments (please note if NWS).

Find more High-Five Friday folks here!

Of Legends, Santa, & His Rein --Bear?

At first I thought this might be some sort of vintage Coke stunt -- you know, first they had Santa present Coke to the brown bears so that they might tell the polar bears of the joys of Coke... And then they wouldn't have needed to create those animated polar bears.

I dunno, the legend of Santa is magical and powerful and I'm a Believer. Anything is possible with legends. And marketing. Santa included.


Which reminds me of a cute story of my son two summers ago...

We were having a yard sale and, as we had lots of old books available, lots of the local book dealers were showing up. One of the local book dealers was stopping by every day of our sale to check out the 'new' old books we continued to bring out as books sold. This gentleman happens to be a bigger man with the snowy white hair and beard. .

Because my then 6 year old was on a mission to A) deny the existence of Santa & B) convince me that there was no Santa (something he'll never ever get me to believe), I had no idea that my son would think this was Santa. On our front lawn. In July.

But he did.

When the book dealer asked my husband a question, my son grabbed my arm tightly and, speaking in that half-whisper of awe, he breathed, "Santa talks."

So, near as I can fathom, his previous notion was that of a mute Santa. That Santa did not exist. But this talking guy on our lawn? He was Santa.

I naturally corrected my son that this man was not Santa, that he was 'just a local book buying guy'. You'd think that would have cemented Santa's death, right? But no; apparently the idea of a speaking Santa put into motion an official Belief of the legend & its magic. Now my son Believes. (At least when he's with me.)

Anyway, the power of Santa's legend is strong.

So are our local legends.

For example, these photos are not of Santa (no matter how those eyes twinkle!). Rather, as we discover via UpNorth Memories - Don Harrison (at Flickr), this man is John "Spikehorn" Meyers, a local legend in Meyers Clare County, Michigan.

Harrison’s most colorful character was John “Spikehorn” Meyers, known to thousands of Michigan residents simply as Spikehorn. He was a showman, naturalist, politician, coal miner, tile manufacturer, furniture builder, inventor, realtor, bear hunter, lumberjack, and above all, individualist. The old gentleman had a fertile imagination under his white thatch of hair and full white beard.

According to neighbors, Spikehorn’s interest in the woods and buckskins developed around 1930, when he opened his Bear and Deer Park established on his property at the corner of US-27 and M-61. Rumor has it the park even contained an occasional buffalo.

Spikehorn and his friend, Red Eagle, dressed in buckskins for tourists and treated them to tales of their adventures in the woods. He enjoyed feeding his pets sweets, popcorn, and pop and loved posing with his deer and bears for cameras.

His enemies were the Conservation Officers, as indicated by the sign in front of his business: “Feed Conservation Officers to the Bear.”

It looks as if those bears love the taste of conservation officers.


Seeing these old photos reminds me that we all have our local legends.

Some are so colorful they cannot be contained in black and white photos, so large they cannot be limited to the mere 3.5 x 5.5 inches of a postcard they are presented upon. But not all of them are.

Some neighborhood legends are much smaller. They don't have to be anything more than the local shut-in, as we October Road fans were reminded this week (in the We Lived Like Giants episode) when Sam was afraid of Physical Phil because neighborhood kids, who do not understand Phil's fear driven behavior, believe Phil drinks the blood of cats and wears a suit made of human flesh.

It sounds silly, but every neighborhood has The One To Watch Out For, the one kids spread stories about... I'm pretty sure that Spikehorn was the goof of his time and neighborhood.

He at least had to have outshone the crazy cat lady.

Which just makes me wonder if hubby and I, as "that crazy collecting couple", should be promoting & preserving ourselves on postcards so that we might live on as legends... You know, past the neighborhood rumors and into Forever...

Nah, we've got this blog.

Explaining The Tape Away

Find records with tape on the label? This bit in that 1947 Home Kinks magazine explains:

If slightly warped records slip on an automatic record player and distort the tone, this trouble can be avoided by sticking two strips of adhesive tape on each face of the record as shown.

Magazine Mental Illness

Most collectors will admit they are more than a little mad... But it takes a special kind of crazy to collect old magazines.

First there's the sadness as you grab box after box of vintage and retro crafting, how-to, and do-it-yourself magazines at an estate sale or auction... All the unfinished work speaks of lives that weren't finished.

And then there's the general craziness of what's inside the pages. Who said these were good ideas? And when it comes to women's magazines there's the perpetual, "Who bought this crap -- bought into this crap?"

One cannot help but mull the sanity & happiness, insanity & unhappines, of the former magazine owners... Today, I do so with 13 examples of mockable magazine scans.

(And yes, whenever I mock the previous owners of these magazines I am reminded of what others will think of all these boxes of magazines that I'll leave behind. I said it's a special kind of crazy.)



1) Via this 1971 Pack-o-Fun, "The Only Scrap-Craft Magazine", I am reminded why I don't recommend putting your children in scouting. Or elderly folks into those crafting classes at the old folks' home. Little's much sadder than instructing people to make dolls out of garbage -- unless it's dangerous dolls made of plastic dry cleaner bags, stuffed with facial tissue, and drawn on with markers.

While they admonish giving these dolls to babies who will put things in their mouths, they also say that "these cuddly little dolls will become favorites of the toddler set." Toxic teethers, poisonous pacifiers; a garbage doll by any other name is just fine as long as your child is mature enough, by 2, to know better. (No mention that suffocation by plastic dolls or marker fumes may cause retardation, rendering your smart toddler as dumb as a baby.)

2) Foiled again. From the same magazine, this is eggs-actly what you think it is: egg cartons covered with tin foil, used as a lighting fixture.

What? You're waiting for me to add something? The idea should be enough -- plus, you've got the groovy photo.

3) Home Kinks magazine isn't what you think it is. Or maybe it is; maybe you're not as twisted as I am. Or maybe you are just as twisted, but you just knew this was a Popular Mechanics publication (1947).


The cover boasts of a frying pan shield on page 18. I didn't scan it, but to end your suspense, I'll confirm that it's precisely what it looks like: a cake cover cut-out to allow access to the contents of the frying pan.

4) On page 9 we all learn how to make a Dutch Boy cutout to hold a kitchen broom. I'm not going to mock this; I long for the good old days when copying corporate logos for home use was de rigeur.



5) On page 94 we have (further) proof of my mental illness. Something has been cut out -- presumably the order form for the 102 time saving, money saving, money making, helpful, inexpensive easy to use... guides, as selected by the blue X's. But that's not good enough.

This magazine is incomplete; therefore I am incomplete.

6) The October 1975 issue of Women's Circle Homeworker "shows you the way to home money making." (I have to admit I read the title as 'homewrecker', but maybe that's because I just know a lady making extra 'pin money' isn't the sort of girl dear old dad can stay married to.)


The cover proclaims, "Women Paperhangers Earn $5 Per Hour". I guess that was startling in 1975 -- but not for the reasons you think.

7) As the story continues on page 31, the headline, "Women paperhangers are still around", tells us that in 1975 paperhanging was considered to be on the outs with the modern home working woman. I guess wallpaper hanging was that 'oldest profession' folks refer to.



I'd also like to note that in 1975, the was a shortage of pithy, pun-ny writers or else there should have been a pun about women paperhangers still hanging around.

8) At the end of the article, Edna Shimp, wallpaper professional gal, recommends, "If you are contemplating decorating, think wallpaper." Surprise, Edna shills!

9) Super double bonus points for a women's lib mag calling women 'gals'.

10) And tack on an extra 100 points for the corner call for 'junior achievers', women "below the age of 20". Sheesh.

11) In the January, 1964 issue of The Workbasket, there's an ad for Yum Yum perfume.

When you are asked say Yum Yum!

Our new perfume is so delightful that we just had to name it YUM YUM. The fragrance lasts and is very subtle. Its exquisite tones are remembered fondly.

When you are asked, say "Yum Yum!" OK, so picture it... Your meet a swell feller, and whatever he asks, you reply, "Yum Yum," as directed. Later on the feller asks his buddies, "What was the name of that retarded girl... I am fond of her smell."

12) On the opposite page, we are asked to choose between "this or this" with the choices being to have, or not to have, bunions.



Naturally, all we can reply is, "Yum Yum!"

13) Below that ad, an ad for a job to work at home doing invisible mending.

In many communities invisible menders are scarce: service is expensive -- often unavailable. Can you learn to do this fascinating, profitable work?

"Yum Yum!" is our instinctive reply. (Oh, yes; it sucks to have the ads near the Yum Yum Parfums-Degas ad.)

But then again, perhaps we are just high on the subtle but exquisite smell of our $1 bottle of perfume and so we think maybe, must maybe, we are able to learn such fascinating, profitable work... Or is that the smell of our marker colored suffocation doll? $240 a month buys a lot of $1 per bottle, postpaid, perfume. (We reckon about 180 of 'em.)


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(Kinda) Mute Monday: Collections

The point of Mute Mondays is to only post images -- I know that. But as a meme, there's no screening process, and so people like me can come along and resist the muzzle. I had to -- today's theme is "collection/collections" and like, duh, that's 'me' to a 'T'.

You know, since I ramble about, & link to, writing at Collectors' Quest, I figured you all knew that hubby and I are columnists there -- but it has been brought to my attention that you did not. So I'm guessing you don't know about the CQ community either... For free you can make a profile, promote your blog, and (the most delicious part) show off your wacky/obscure/unique/valuable collection (or collections) to other nut-jobs collector. That's where all the following images come from...



And my favorite:

(No, he's not mine -- but how adorable is that photo?)

If When you join, be sure to hook-up with me, poptart so I can see your stuff!

To see more (silent) collection Mute Mondays go here. If you're playing, use the widget & leave your link!

Beware The Reader

Bookplate Junkie shows us how the educated, intelligent reader handles the problem of a bad moving company:

Behold The Mighty Army

I stumbled into this baby on Saturday during thrift shop excursions.



A select group of records, each with sticker prices higher than the LPs in the regular rack, sat at the wrap desk. I poked through them and while I could wrinkle my nose at most of them, this one stuck out both for its comic cover design (as in 'looks like a comic' -- tho, I admit it is comic in other ways) and for its hefty (for me) price tag. $8.99? I've paid much less for a box full of records. In fact, I don't think I've paid this much for a record since they were the only other way to buy them other than cassette tape... And I didn't even know what this one was or who made it.

New Birth? Featuring Leslie Wilson? Behold The Mighty Army? And why did the thrift shop think this was worthy of such a price? Was it the slit-open but largely intact cellophane? Well, curiosity and nice looking vinyl won over and I brought it home.



Turns out New Birth was a concept band. The brainchild of Vernon Bullock, New Birth was a touring company comprised of several groups who could each perform separately as well as part of the larger group. They were formed in 1963 with some help from Harvey Fuqua, and signed with RCA, but it wasn't until 1971 that Leslie Wilson (and his brother Melvin Wilson, Ann Bogan and a few others) joined.

New Birth recorded five albums for RCA. Then, in 1975, they split with RCA, Harvey Fuqua and their management and signed with Buddah Records where they made two records.

At Buddah, Melvin created a new stage presence for New Birth's rebirth. Bill Witten made stage costumes for the group, which had come to Marvin in his dreams. The group also incorporated the use of rear screen projection and had films commissioned to run as part of their performance, which was also a first for R & B artists. (soulwalking.co.uk)

It was during these "Buddah years" that the band "all lived together in a mansion in the famed Hollywood Hills that they dubbed 'the band house'."

Also during this time, in 1976, they released Love Potion. The album had award-winning cover art, designed by Melvin Wilson and photographer Norman Seeff, which featured all 12 band members posing together naked.

In 1977 they released Behold The Mighty Army, which was the last album. In-fighting & bickering over money, creative differences (and likely who used who's toothbrush) brought the New Birth to the same old death.

New Birth's songs have apparently been covered (or sampled) by K-Ci & Jo Jo, Notorious BIG, Something for the People, and De La Soul, to name a few. So some of it may sound a bit familiar.

As for the sound of the LP, it's classic soul mixed with old school funk and it doesn't disappoint.

New Birth still exists -- with Melvin & Leslie Wilson. But that's not the New Birth that Bullock had in mind, now is it.

Imps, Elves Or ?

I call them imps, but I guess they could be anything...

They are not salt & pepper shakers, but figurines; they are marked "Japan".

The Slippers That Got Away

They lured me in, with their sweet kitschy goodness...

And the $95 price tag meant all I could get was these photos.

Too Excited

I'm listing in the store, and as per the usual I get all excited over the junk inventory.

It doesn't matter what it is really, but I have to stop and enjoy it while listing it. I rationalize that buyers want to know all about it, but really it's just because I love stuff.

When playing What Shall I Be? The Exciting Game of Career Girls I coincidentally drew the heart-shaped personality card shown here. It reads:

You get too excited
Bad for: Surgeon, Lawyer and Astronaut

Yeah, well, I don't want to be any of those things anyway. I don't want to be anything which has a threshold of 'too excited.'

But the reason I'm telling all of you this is that the posts might just be coming all fast-and-furious like. Just one vintage magazine could keep me here for 24 hours -- and maybe you too, huh.

Future Hauntings

When at the Trash or Treasure event for CQ, students from Studio One guilted me into an interview which has now been posted.

In it you get to see more of me than I'd like. Not only do I discuss that ugly little sad folk art piece and my boudoir chair, but I threaten my children -- publicly:

"I keep telling my kids if they get rid of my stuff when I die, I will haunt them. So they are not allowed to get rid of it."

So I guess if I haunt them, I'd legally be without a leg to stand on. And, if the chair is one of the items they get rid of, I won't even be able to sit on that. But I don't suppose either of those things matter to ghosts.

Something Fishy I Can Blame On The Simpsons

I just discovered The Fish Police. First the comic book was news to me.


Now I discover I missed the animated TV series.

Adapted to the cartoon format in 1992 as an attempt by CBS to compete with the success of The Simpsons by creating cartoons adults in the prime time evening slot, starring a wonderful cast:

* John Ritter as Inspector Gill
* Hector Elizondo as Don Calamari
* Edward Asner as Chief Abalone
* Jonathan Winters as Mayor Cod
* Tim Curry as The Sharkster
* Robert Guillaume as Detective Catfish
* Buddy Hacket as Crabby
* Megan Mullally as Pearl
* JoBeth Williams as Angel
* Frank Welker as Mussels Marinara/Doc Croaker
* Georgia Brown as Goldie
* Charlie Schlatter as Tadpole

But the series was very short-lived. According to Toonopedia:

Despite the star-studded cast, Fish Police failed to reel in viewers. Six episodes were produced, but the plug got pulled after only three had been aired. The rest appeared only in a few overseas markets.

Another reason to hate The Simpsons. Sure, if it weren't for them, maybe Fish Police the TV series wouldn't have been made; but the too-high rating expectations CBS had was unrealistic for a new show. (And don't get me started on how few episodes shows get before they are cancelled -- it drives me nuts.) Plus I just don't like the Simpsons.

Guess what collection-obsession's on my horizon?