The Fourteen Hour Wife

Vintage Ad Browser

Being a wife in the 1890s equals scrubbing the floor, according to Gold Dust Washing Powder. That Eight Hour Man is no captain of industry, or else his Fourteen Hour Wife would have a fleet of housemaids and they’d have to do the scrubbing.

As for me, there’s no powder in the world – gold-dust-enhanced or not – that would save me any time. Never mind strength or patience. I don’t know how much money it’d save either, but as soon as I’d saved enough I’d be off in my time machine looking for a Swiffer to take back to 1895.

The wording of this also implies (to me anyway) that she’s only a wife for fourteen hours. As soon as she clocks off, she turns into the Ten Hour Floozy. Now that sounds like fun! I’d like to see an ad featuring her.

Kay Learns A Lesson

The lesson Kay ought to have learned is that her husband gossips about her dishpan hands to the guests at their fancy soiree.

Never mind her admiring her stocking up at the top – the real story is in the cartoon at the bottom. let’s take a closer look, shall we?

“Caught Red-handed! Or, Kay Learns A Lesson”

1. Oh look Ed, we’re in the social column!  Ed and Kay are newlyweds and they are having their first party. Naturally this is the biggest social event in Whoville,  so Ed insists that Kay hire a maid so she can just Look Pretty and not do anything.

2. After Ed leaves for work Kay says to herself: ugh, what a doofus, we don’t have the money for a maid! So she decides to do all the scrubbing herself.

3. Hi honey, how do you like my red dress? Don’t you think it sets off my red hands and….uh oh!

4. Ed says: boy, your hands look like you dunked them in tomato sauce, dear (or something like that). Cue the slammed door and wails of how-dare-you. But wait – I mean, her hands ARE red, right? If it was me I’d just say: yeah, next time YOU can make the frozen custard and scrub the dishes, mister.

5.Some silver-haired snooty guest tells Kay that Ed has been talking about her red hands all through the party I guess she stayed in the bedroom all that time (wonder what the social column in the paper is going to say about the party tomorrow?) 

6. Wasn’t I a goof not to use Ivory? says Kay. Well, that’s where I’d start slamming doors – as soon as I heard what Ed had been talking about to entertain the guests.

7. Yeah OK, Ed, so men like pretty hands. But women like it when men don’t gossip about them at parties. And they also prefer you not to buy the incredible jumbo size of a product to make your point.

Many thanks to the fabulous Gallery of Graphic Design for this April 1936 ad from Good Housekeeping.

Mrs. Peek To the Rescue!

Mrs. X. has a dilemma:

She can keep working as an Air Raid Warden during World War Two.

Or she can spend the entire day trying to cobble together a Hot Meal for crabby old Jim, a Vincent Price lookalike who is (clearly) used to better things.

Thank goodness for Mrs. Peek’s tinned pudding! Jim thinks that having pudding means that his wife is back on KP. But it doesn’t. She is “still helping her country” (a possible dig at Jim, who seems only to want to look after his stomach) and Mrs. Peek will “look after your dinner.” And that’s how it’s going to be, buster!

This ad has a very different tone than the equivalent American one, over here, doesn’t it? Mrs. X tells it like it is – the Chef Boy Ar Dee lady is placating. I’m with Mrs. X, of course. The link is from the Kitchen Retro archives over at WordPress (I know, I know – I really need to transfer them all over here, but last time I checked you had to do this one post at a time and I keep putting it off).

I am posting a little bit less often, and not always getting to the comments (for which I thank you so much, as always!) – the Dreaded Novel and Real Life are pretty much knocking me for the proverbial loop these days, plus I now have my traditional Out Of Season Cold (hence Monday’s post, BTW). And I also just realized that last week marked the 800th Kitchen Retro post here on Blogger (not including the WordPress detritus) so…I got a little tired thinking of that!

Still, more to come, down the pike – as always!

[Ad from Steve Johnson's Cyber Heritage.]

The Silent Partner

“He’s a man who doesn’t talk very much…”

Maisie knew it when she met him, but she thought she could get him chatting, sooner or later. She danced on the coffee table. Put strawberry jam smiley faces on the toast and little straw hats on his boiled eggs.

Biff just looked at her.

Then she tried doing some more overtly annoying things. She glazed all his dinners with aspic. She didn’t bleach his white shirts. Maybe she even put a little green and red washcloth in with the white shirts, and told him the shirts were tinted in honor of Christmas – in July.

And now Biff’s eyes were accusing her again. Accusing her of not using Drano. Of clogging up the drains with pancake makeup residue, Marcelled strands of hair, and goodness knows what else.

And he stomped off to work.

He’s just going to have to talk to me one of these days, Maisie remarked to the can of Drano. And then she decided just what to do….

From Graphic Design TJS Labs.

A Couple of Lead Balloons

I thought it was just an ordinary headache at first. At first, I thought maybe it was Carl’s insistance on us wearing red at all times. I know his red suit made my eyes hurt. But aspirin didn’t make the pains go away.

And then I saw them up there, hovering near the ceiling: some familiar, huge, black and white disembodied heads. And I knew those two: it was dear old Mom and Dad, that’s who. Parents: you just can’t get away from them, right? It must be the strings tied onto the end of the balloons: invisible, sure – but there, all the same.

Mom, Dad, I shouted up at them, What are you doing here?

Dad said: Don’t marry Carl, Sheila. He’ll make you miserable!

And Mom chimed in: His way of life is wrong…and sinful.

Um, could you possibly be a little more specific? I said.

Mom said: Well, take a look at that red suit of his, for one thing. That is a sin against fashion, for a start.

And Dad added: And I think he dyes his hair, too. Nobody in the world was ever born with that shade of orange – not even Bozo the Clown!

Carl gave me a funny look. “Sheila darling,” he said, “I knew there was something strange about you. My parents warned me about this! They said: don’t marry Sheila, Carl – she talks to invisible balloons up on the ceiling and says they are her parents. What sort of girl comes from a family of black and white parade balloons?”
 
I sighed. Hadn’t Mom and Dad warned me that I should marry another balloon head and not try to pass as a Regular Girl? Just be myself, in black and white, up on the ceiling. Because these magic red pants weren’t going to work forever, you know. Soon I’d be a big headed balloon again, just like them. And I had a feeling Carl wasn’t going to be too impressed.

[From Cover Browser - bigger version over there, too.]

Trouble For Dinner in Gotham City

Do you think Hot Dan was lurking outside the dining room window because he just knew that Millie’s corned beef and cabbage dinner was heading for disaster? Maybe. Because you know it has to upset him when people don’t use you know what on their food.

Either that or he saw the Hot-Signal (shaped like a jar of mustard) shining in the night sky, the way it does whenever someone in Gotham City is having condiment issues. So Hot Dan hopped into the Mustardmobile and zoomed straight over.

Imagine how long Millie must have boiled everything: Calvin doesn’t even know what it is. And she thought he’d be pleased! He surely won’t be pleased to learn that although he tastes corn, there isn’t any corn in corned beef (the corning is a sort of pickling process, and does not involve any golden kernels of deliciousness).

Everyone is hot and bothered, all right. Millie went to so much trouble, boiling dinner for four hours! And Calvin, after a long hard day at the Ministry of Patent Leather Hair, is being a smart aleck.

They probably need to cool down (a nice Jell-O mold might be just the ticket). But – nope, here comes Hot Dan the Mustard Man with – yes, you guessed it, hot mustard. This is his answer to everyone’s problems. You just lost your keys?  Kids won’t stop playing handball against your garage door? Or is the Joker roaming the dark city streets, menacing kindly shopkeepers and ordinary citizens?

The answer is very simple: French’s Hot Mustard. And they all lived happily ever after. Although Millie got a little tired of Hot Dan popping in through the window to check that they had a jar of French’s on the table at all times.

It is, after all, “Tangy, Tasty Magic Fluff!”

Wait…what? Fluff? Oh no – I know who it is under that Hot Dan disguise: the Micro-Fluff Man! Soon Calvin and Millie will be pasting Micro-Fluff on all their belongings – that is, when they’re not dousing their food in hot mustard, using the “ducky” yellow spoon that he brought them (the handle looks just like Hot Dan, and its foot hooks over the jar, which must look lovely).

[Thank you so much to TJS Labs for this amazing episode in the Adventures of Hot Dan, which first appeared in Good Housekeeping in 1936.]

More Hot Dan right this way:

Hot Dan the Mustard Man
Hot Dan Redux

And there are some hilarious Batman quotes here, apropos of nothing really – but they are fun. One of my favorites is: “It’s obvious. Only a criminal would disguise himself as a licensed, bonded guard, yet callously park in front of a fire hydrant.” (Hot Dan never does this, because (a) he is not a criminal of course and (b) people may need to get to the water supply in a hurry because that is HOT mustard).

Baby Jim’s All Paid For Now

This is a fun couple. Meet Ruth and – I don’t know his first name, Ruth calls him Dear or Darling.

They are crazy, impulsive spenders – even though it’s the middle of the Depression (1934 to be precise). They are sort of the Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald of the maternity ward. What a thought. The Jazz Age is well and truly over, but Dear Darling just got a job with the New Deal, so it’s baby-shoppin’ time!

Baby Jim was the biggest, shiniest baby in the hospital, and they just had to have him. And now it’s time to start handing over the money for him. Babies don’t grow on trees, you know, and neither does money.

Too bad they didn’t just go out and get some stuff that does grow on trees: apples are good. Plums. Quite a few fruits, really. But that wasn’t fancy enough!

Alas, that New Deal job is about to go south, because of an Old Problem. If you have followed some of the other Lifebuoy soap operas on Kitchen Retro (and if not, you can check them out via the links at the end, hint hint) – then you can guess what this is: BO! Oh Ruth, why didn’t you tell him? How did you get up close enough to make that baby – oh, oh I see. That’s why they had to go out and buy one.

And once Darling started scrubbing with Lifebuoy, he got himself a raise. Boy, they must have been ecstatic down at the office. He comes swaggering home to brag: “Baby Jim’s All Paid For Now.” To which Ruth replies, “We’ll soon be on Easy Street.” That’s where they’ll be shopping for more stuff, no doubt. Don’t forget to put more soap on the shopping list.

How about the big picture, over on Ad Access? Here you go! And thank you Ad Access, this is a Lifebuoy classic.

More Lifebuoy drama? Why not:

Lifebuoy Meets World
The Old and the Odorous
Imitation of Lifebuoy
Three Heads Are Better Than One
Put the Blame on Jane

Tennis Fun With Dick and Jane

Dick and Jane are playing tennis. But they are not having any fun. Even though tennis is quite good fun.

What can be the matter?

Oh look. Dick has spotted Beth on the next court. Beth is smiling at the tennis instructor. See Beth’s teeth sparkle in the sunlight!

Dick is really checking out Beth. Boy oh boy, what a smile! Now Dick is smiling too. He does not notice Jane.

Uh oh, Dick. Jane is mad as a wet hen.

Dick is not thinking clearly today. Otherwise he would not say that he finds Beth’s smile quite fetching. No, Dick, no. Jane does not like this sort of conversation.

But Dick blunders on. He suggests that Jane use Dr. West’s Toothpaste. Just like Beth does. Then Jane will have white teeth. Dick thinks that this advice will make Jane happy.

But Jane is not happy. She has had this problem with Dick before. She says: so this time it’s her smile that you admire! Dick is a two-time loser.

Why look at Beth again, Dick? Why, Dick, why? You know that Jane is going to hit you with her tennis racket any second now.

But Dick is enchanted with Dr. West’s Toothpaste. He cannot help himself. Dr.West’s Toothpaste, after all, is Double-Quick.

Just like Jane and her tennis racket.

See Dick duck and run for cover. Run, Dick, run.

[From Ad Access, where there is a bigger version.]

Peas Peas Me

No no, this is not what has you blushing. Please pick a better, less annoying reason from the following:

I am blushing and ineffectually hiding my face with my hands because

a. I have matched my dress and my shoes to coordinate with a box of frozen peas (including the yellow accents, so have clearly given this a lot of thought).

b. I made a horrible looking dinner and splotched it with those self same peas, like acne on a face.

c. I have just realized that when he says things like ‘he’s never seen or tasted anything quite like this!’ that it isn’t necessarily quite as positive as I had thought a minute ago.

Feel free to add a reason d, if something pops into your head. Otherwise, have a good Monday and I’ll see you all later. I can’t believe I updated both blogs on the same day. That just isn’t going to happen very often anymore. I blame Monday, though do not know why yet. I’ll think of something!

You can see a bigger version of this lovely 1948 ad here. And for no other reason than the title pun and, well, I feel like posting a video, here’s a classic Beatles clip that is way, way better than a box of frozen peas:

The Treatwich Anniversary

Well, is Wednesday an anniversary? Hmmm. Let’s see. Not this one. And not most Wednesdays. Unless you say today’s an anniversary of last Wednesday. That’s true. Is it an excuse for cake and a party? No, not really.

But is it an excuse for a Treatwich?

And what might that be, I hear you ask (I know you’re not really asking, but let’s pretend you are). I believe it’s a sandwich, but involves the following variables:

- “a different kind of bread” (I’ve got two kinds, stale and fresh, which do you think he’d like?)
- “his favorite spread” (I’ve got peanut butter or a bedspread, so let’s go with the former)
- “the meat he likes best” (if you’re a vegetarian, you’re out of luck, no treatwich for you!)
- oh, and lots of plastic processed cheese!

What sort of process goes into this cheese product? Never mind. It has “really rich cheese flavor.” And it has little olive slices for eyes, winking up at you. What a treat. “When lunchtime comes, he’ll get the message!” Ah, the message. What sort of message would that be? let’s do the math:

1. Different Bread + Favorite Spread + Liked Meat Product + Fake Cheese = Treatwich. Please explain why fake cheese is an integral part of this equation, if you can.

2. Wednesday + Treatwich = Anniversary of X. Please determine the nature of X, using your imaginative powers.

3. Now multiply the number of fake cheese slices in the Treatwich to estimate the dimensions of Y, the Expected Anniversary Present.

4. And finally, calculate the number of weeks the Treatwich may be deployed as a gift-inducing scheme. Please show your work.

Advertisement (Good Housekeeping, October 1965) thanks to the wonderful TJS Labs.