Lipstick names absolutely slay me. Lipstick displays with all the little color shafts lined up like cosmetic soldiers slay me even more. Favorites here, some of which are still made, include Love That Pink, Paint the Town Pink, Foxy Brown, Million Dollar Red, Love That Red, Certainly Red, Red Hot Red, Cherries In The Snow And Cherries A La Mode. With this said, all I ever wear is Mac Morange.
If I could wear this lipstick display around my neck this would be my most favorite pendant ever.
Ponytail was one of the first if not THE first ubiquitous teenage girl brands. In the age of Elvis Presley, when such creatures felt freedom unlike any generations previous, Ponytail couldn’t crank out matching products fast enough – eyeglass cases, wallets, diaries, treasure boxes, 45s record cases, Deskette desk sets – all in the signature Ponytail baby blue or powder pink leatherette.
I’m going to several Super Bowl parties today…
… and will be carrying my Ponytail assistant holding my notes and sketches as the ball I need to keep my eye on are my impending writing deadlines which I shall attend to with the other eye while the Saints and Colts duke it out.
This 2-ring binder measures a sporting 11″ x 15″ and features two pockets and a fabric identification label.
One of my favorite genres of Kitsch is when objects are produced to take advantage of a massive trend in pop culture but actually have nothing at all to do with that trend. My next favorite genre of Kitsch is when the products themselves are impractical for the use they were created to serve. This “Disco Beat” earring holder qualifies on both fronts! The bouncy, clean cut 1950’s American Bandstand bobby-soxers would have never gotten into the 1970’s disco-beated Studio 54 and the zillion holes provided to dangle earrings from makes for too crowded of a surface to effectively hang more than a couple sets of earrings without them hanging over each other and coalescing into a tangled mess. All of which makes for one hell of the fantastic Kitsch product!
I had my ears pierced when I was 16 but the pain was so excruciating I couldn’t get the image of a shaft of metal poking through flesh out of my head, reliving the experience every time I poked a cheap little gold wire through either hole. So I gave up after a few years and nothing has violated that area since. I did however have a great collection of vintage earrings, none of which fit on the Disco Beat unless I had at least a half an hour to spend trying to disengage the earrings from the holes and each other.
A plethora of pies hit the green.
These cheap, flimsy plastic fake pens were all the rage as similar ‘joke’ toys made in Hong Kong like snapping packs of gum and snakes exploding out of peanut cans flooded novelty and drugstores shelves in the 1950’s and 60’s. You pull the cap off, squeeze the pen as you hold it in water (or invisible ink!) and then aim. I bought these ultimate squirt guns by the carton full with my allowance money and spent my youth asking people if they needed a pen.
I found this set for three bucks recently. I was only paying 29 cents back in the day, which means 14.5 cents a pen/squirt gun. Though I’m still never without 10 (real and more expensive) pens on me at all times these are still my favorites.
When Vanessa Williams snagged the Miss America crown in 1984 one of her first honors was to grace this box of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes. But the box was banished as quickly as her title when sexy photos emerged. Ironic when the text includes lines like “It is with this intent that Kellogg Company provides this limited edition Commemorative Package as a lasting reminder that…we must continue to promote the American dream and encourage all Americans to freely pursue life, liberty, and happiness.”.
Very few of the boxes survived as the inventory that was left in Battle Creek, Michigan where the flakes were made was destroyed in the midst of the scandal. I was friendly with Vanessa at the time and so felt she didn’t deserve to lose the title let alone the cereal box. But she certainly pursued life, liberty and happiness and lost no time crying over spilt cornflakes.
This little football choker is so delicate I only wear it once a year in honor of the Super Bowl which I pay no attention to other than hit a few parties where it’s always one of the most popular players in the room.
The footballs are stamped with the names of different colleges including Tulane, Notre Dame, Michigan, Purdue, Duke, Penn, Texas, Ohio, Army, Navy and Pitt.
I only wish the real thing looked as good as this plastic trinkets box that looks like I remember Hostess cupcakes looking like back in the day. Today the real thing has shrunken to abnormally small sizes, the signature white curlicue fading to a limpy brown color as God knows what chemicals keep the cakes fresh in their individually wrapped packages. With this said, as much as I once loved Hostess cupcakes I still keep hope alive that one day when I open this box the cream filling will miraculously be waiting for me in the middle.
I love sculptures like this, especially when they’re crafted by mechanics and stuck out on the street in front of their shops. I’m assuming that “Mofles” means muffler in some language. If not, there’s more that I love about this place than just the metal foliage.
I’ve been known to use a muffler or two in my handiwork as well. Here’s a movie camera prop I made out of a muffler and old vintage LPs for the 1987 MTV Award nominated video, “Right on Track” by Breakfast Club, which I art directed and production designed.
There were many versions of this game based on the popular TV series pitting two two-people teams against each other to guess words based on clues given by one teammate to another. The original show starred Allen Ludden and ran from 1961-’67 for a total of 1555 episodes. There were almost that many versions of this game as newer versions of Password having been on TV through 2009. Each version added new words except for later anniversary versions where they got lazy and used words from previous sets.
Made by Peak Productions for the Milton Bradley Company in 1962, this set is complete with two sets of password cards, two leatherette holders, a spinner and score pad.
I love the little leatherette holders with the clear red windows with magic powers that reveal the secret word which can’t be seen if you’re just looking at the card without the case.
The original Volume 1:
Password, 1962, with Dick Van Dyke:
Password,1966, featuring Angie Dickinson and her fabulous hairband:
