First, of course, you have to get your fat to listen to the record. Because it is probably lying around, having a nap, enjoying life on your hips. Having a few party snacks, too. It’s like the guest who never leaves, despite all the hints and pointed looking at watches and talk of needing to get up for work the next morning. You know what I mean.
Wallace and his magic records to the rescue!
This item comes in a plain wrapper, which immediately makes me suspicious. Suspicious of what, I don’t know. But I don’t like it.
The record is supposed to make you thin. I understand music, exercising to music, and exercising to a voice bossing you around (“do five hundred sit-ups…starting now!”).
But what could the Wallace Method be that makes this record so special? They call it a “reducing record” and you also get a “reducing lesson.” Maybe it is special music that makes your “bulging hips” shrink.
What sort of music would that be? Maybe John Philip Sousa marches. The extra fat gets charged up and parades away, just like that. That would be easy, but not exactly natural.
Maybe it’s “easy listening music” that drives your fat mad and so it just packs up and leaves. Fat only likes jazz and big band tunes. This is 1950, so there isn’t any rock music yet.
And the special lesson must teach you what to say as you play the record: Party’s over, subcutaneous fat! We are only playing this special music now, and there’s no more good snacks. It’s getting late, anyway. Then you tell it you’re glad it could come by (you are lying, of course) and you’ll call it sometime (as if!). What a great method!
But what do the Wallace Records people do with the bulges of the 500,000 women they have helped? Because it has to go somewhere. Hope they have access to a storage facility, that’s all I’m saying.
The badly scanned ad from Ladies’ Home Journal, 1950 scanned by me (lovely microfilm, shame about the library scanner). The really nice ad is from the supremely boss Duke University Ad Access collection (click the link for a bigger version, it is quite good and shows Mr. Wallace, a disembodied head who had a Get-Thin-To-Music radio show, too).