Party Meatloaf

Exploring all that is wonderful and horrible about 50's pop culture. Come join the party!

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Picture frames to make in minutes

. . . and regret for years to come. And sadly, many of these frames turn out to be kind of a pain in the ass to make. The aptly-named "Number 2" requires you to enlarge your snapshots to 5x7" (not as easy in 1966 as it is now); buy six small frames; spray-paint them; cut and paint a piece of plywood; and nail or glue the smaller frames to the plywood.

Well, anyway. Remember bazaars? The carnival bazaars at your older brother or sister's elementary school? Where your friends always won a goldfish by throwing a ping-pong ball in the bowl, and you never did, but the fish always died within a week regardless?

Remember the craft sale? The potholders, pinchsions, aprons, and crocheted slippers with the toe shaped, as a colleague of mine memorably expressed it, "like a cat's anus?"

Remember the wall of lynched dolls? Remember before China made all our stuffed animals, and a child might actually want one of these?
Actually, the book says the "hug-me-tight" dolls are favored by teens, and maybe they were; drugs were already making serious inroads into youth culture by 1966. I mean, the Beatles recorded Revolver that year.

And I am a bit partial to #54 myself. Wouldn't want to sew it though; too skinny in the arms and legs. You'd drive yourself nuts turning and stuffing them.

I would stick to potholders.

Friday, September 22, 2006

But wait, there's more!

Honestly, wasn't this worth the wait?

You'll be interested to know that those flappy things are "petals," and the color scheme is "buttercup bright." You're supposed to sew and quilt a bajillion or so of those things and then sew them onto a perfectly innocent bedspread.

The book notes that the pattern would be "equally effective in showy pinks, shades of burnished orange, or compelling magenta."

Or how about all three?
This lovely item is Number 2 on our list of Things that Make Ill-considered Decisions about Hot Pink. It's a rug, made out of felt. Goes great with the russet plant and the white marble hearth, doesn't it? Doesn't it????

I realize I'm beating a dead horse here, but the book ends with the ugliest little table of them all, also in hot pink and non-matching colors. Under the heading "Unusual Crafts." Yes. A hot pink table top spattered with red and mustard (the candles match, notice?). I would say that's unusual, and thank my lucky stars, too.

But hopefully the candles will set the curtains on fire and burn down all the stylistic abominations in this house.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Adversity

There seems to be a conspiracy to prevent posts to this blog between Blogger, my nine-year-old's immune system, and my husband's dim understanding of what happens when you close an active browser window.

While we adjust, why don't you crochet some lovely rust-colored epaulets and glue them to the wall?

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Smoked ham!

I just noticed the smoked ham ad above. I'm waiting for someone to advertise mail order meatloaf on this blog.

By the way, if you think my spelling has gotten a lot worse lately, it's because Blogger has decided it doesn't like me editing posted items, so anything I catch after posting has to stay there. I think it's some problem with the photos feature--the browser seems to get hung up trying to verify the location of the posted photo in the entry and then just grinds away until I force quit. This morning I left it alone from 4 a.m. until 8 and still had to force quit and restart. Sigh, Blogger.

Nursery school crime scene bedspread

BHG recommends perpetrating this craft if you haven't got the patience for actual quiltmaking: "Add originality to a ready-made bedspread with these paper doll beauties." I don't know about you, but I can feel the scratchy polyester quality of that bedspread.

I'm amused at the way books and magazines of the 50's and 60's harp on originality as the ultimate goal of decoration and fashion--completely unrelated to qualities like aesthetic appeal, function, good taste, etc. Well, maybe craft publications have always done that. It just seems especially ridiculous with these projects.

See what I mean about the rooms? Cold, sterile, and gloomy, this one. With a tacky white bedside table to make you say "huh?" when taken in alongside the modular, globular hanging lamp. And a milk glass bowl of flowers--a glass bowl in a child's room? But wait--what books are on the table? The only one I can read the title of is apparently The Unanointed, a 1958 novel by Laurene Chin. It's not in stock at Amazon.com, but The Book Review Blog tells us it's a "Fascinating historical fiction about the people around King David from the Old Testament. People like Job, Abiathar, Reba." Not exactly bedtime reading for the toddler set, is it? So does that mean this is a room for . . . grownups?

And then there's this atrocity, featuring a pointless pattern that we are told represents "crowns," plus a wooden headboard with leather pads remeniscent of those found in your better quality bus stations. And more ugly glass and a powder-blue porcelin lamp that really doesn't go with the avocado walls. But then, neither does the bedspread. The book calls this bedspread "subtle."

These motifs are appliqued to the bedspread, which is really pretty labor-intensive, so you'd have to spend a lot of time on this project to get it looking this bad. It makes me sad to think someone may have actually done this.

Monday, September 18, 2006

1966: When ugly craft items were proudly made in America

Before Hobby Lobby and Michael's and the importation of cheap chipwood baskets and fake flowers made in China, America worked long and hard to produce its ugly, ugly handicrafts. And then it took pains to display them in the worst possible ways. Better Homes and Gardens promises us in this tome "a complete guide to the most rewarding stitchery and craft projects for the whole family." A big promise, and largely failed.
It isn't always the fault of the craft itself. Take these rocking chair cushions (please! ba-da-bing). I've often felt hot pink was a color more sinned against than sinning; the combination here with red, orange, and purple is ambitious, but the angular shapes help to make sense of it. But then the photo stylist felt it would be a good idea to place the chair in a red room with an orange-covered table. That's way too much of a bad thing.

What often strikes me about home furnishings spreads in later-1960's magazines is how uncomfortable rooms look. Wrought-iron wall hangings and lamps. Ugly, brittle, and cheap looking--they promise pain if bumped against and give the look of a medieval torture chamber (as a teenager I babysat at a house with, honest to God, fake maces hanging on the living room wall). Painted brick walls in bedrooms with tile floors--cold, hard, and unfriendly. Spindly Formica furniture paired with faux-Americana wood pieces. The conspicuous, purposeful ugliness of it impresses me.

As the week progresses, andd we wade through more of this crap, you may find Craftzine a helpful antidote. I bought some Kool-Aid this week to try out one of their projects.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

'Nother new link

Check out Stitchy McYarnpants, now added to the links list on the right. Hellish knitting patterns from the 60's, 70's, oh, all the bad fashion times. Who would have thought there could be so many?

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Sexy, sexy electricity


Oo-la-la. Looking a little less like Snow White this time, and a bit more like the evil queen, our heroine now confesses that "I talk calmly about how cheap and fast electric heat is, but I can't resist raving about its cleanliness!" Does electricity make you feel all tingly inside? That's the current, honey; you've got your finger in the socket.

I'm intrigued by technique #1: "Use utensils with flat bottoms which cover the heating unit, Straight sides are preferred." Are they ruling out cauldrons, then?

Electric refrigerators are another product this book shills, and they spend a lot of time yelling at us about how to store foods properly. "There is a right and a wrong way of storing food in your electric refrigerator," we are warned. "There is a proper place for everything and there must be sapce for circulation of cold air." "Everything that goes into your electric refrigerator has a right place," intones another caption, with a helpful graphic showing where to place your cooked vegetables, cake and waffle batter (a staple in most households, right?), dessert, pastry dough, and white sauce. White sauce? Who stores that? The arrow points toward an enormous pitcher of it. I'm not posting the photo because it's pretty boring--there's not even a ham, so you can tell this was before the heyday of refrigerator sales when there was ALWAYS a ham. Playing "Spot the Ham" is a favorite pastime of mine whenever I get a new batch of 50's magazines. There's one in every fridge.

This is the "Oven dinner for after the bridge club." Beef ring filled with carrot strips, baked potatoes, green salad, and prune and apricot upside-down cake. I'm both charmed and repelled by the cake. It's got a 1930's look to it that I find appealing--bold, a little jazzy--but I can't see myself seving it. "Oh, don't worry!" the clueless hostess assures her poor guests, "it has apricots AND prunes! Everyone gets both!"

I'd say more, but I have to go take Lois Kanago's cake out of the oven.

Friday, September 01, 2006

How Thomas Edison invented cake

Sherman, set the Wayback machine for the year 1937 and the wonders of E-lectricity!

I love this booklet because there really aren't any recipes in it that can't be cooked non-electrically, and yet they go to great lengths to convince you that cooking with electricity is different and modern and not at all like cooking the old-fashioned way, which admittedly in 1937, before rural electrification, probably meant wood-burning ovens for a lot of Americans. Still, heat+food=cooking, so what's the big deal?

The booklet was co-sponsored by Thomas Edison's Electric Institute, which may explain its portentious tone, as it asks, "Can you resist the new technique?"

Well, this gal surely couldn't:


I love love love this picture because 1) she looks so happy; and 2) she's wearing such a fabulous dress, with neck darts no less! It's classic 1930's; and 3) how on Earth did she get that giant cake out of such a little tiny pot? and 4) she appears to have frosted the cake with fingerpaints.

It's just too charming, it almost makes up for some of the books more reprehensible recipes, like the sour milk steamed pudding, or the page on canning that actually instructs you to put filled, sealed canning jars into a hot oven for processing. Can you imaging the carnage? Can you imagine cleaning shattered glass and plum preserves out of your new electric oven? Oh, the humanity.