Jergens Lotion - Her hands were a religion.

Advertising has always been mostly lies and insult. But it's generally more subtle now, dare I say? (I just know someone will confront me with a hideous example proving I'm full of stupid). In 1938, maybe audiences were less cynical? Maybe they were more suggestible?

"A man worships soft young hands." We do? I mean, I'm turned off by a woman whose hands are horny and calloused like a steel worker's, but anything beyond a basic level of smoothness and being-smaller-than-mine-ness, I don't care what her hands are like.

We can't be too annoyed at the Jergens of 1938. Of course they had to build up the importance of routinely dipping your hands in a tub of lard to keep them from turning into lobster claws. But to say a man worships soft hands is, well, a fabrication. It's more true that women worship soft hands on other women. Likewise, many men dote upon their cars under the false pretense that it matters to women whether or not your tires are shiny enough. Beyond a basic level of not being rusty and not having a sea of hamburger wrappers in the back seat, many women won't be bothered much by the level of polish you put on your car. You may, however,  attract just the right guy if you Armor-All the door seals.

The picture is fantastic. She's not even looking at him. She can't be bothered. She's staring languidly across the room at a congealing pan of beef tallow, thinking that her skin could be a liiiiitle more moist, and wondering how it would feel to sweep her hands through it. Meanwhile, Ricky Ricardo (or at least the disembodied head of Ricky) is enraptured with her sumptuous finger pads, her succulent phalanges, her gorgeous knuckles and her savory cuticles. What? No tongue? Missed opportunity. I like that the woman with the twin torpedo tubes on her head could be flapping his lips with her fingers, making the "a-bubbudah-bubbaduh-blubbida" noise. She might as well. Nothing could stop Ricky from making some Jergens of his own with dreamy hands like hers to breathe on.

In the picture at the top, we see a sad little vignette. The two men are talking to the lady with (presumably) orgasmically moistened hands, while the troll with ordinary hands goes unnoticed.

Assuming that both women have identical personalities and appearances, I don't think it's the hands that forced the men's decision. Miss Leftlooks like she's wearing a satin smock, while Miss Right looks like she's ready to party.