Little Ads - Secrets of beauty, wealth, and dolls.

A new cub reporter stationed in 1939 dropped these little ads on my desk this morning. They were originally published in Pictorial Review, a magazine targeted at housewives. It seems women are not to different from today. Their husbands don't let them control their own money, they seek secrets of eternal beauty, and they want to help ventriloquist dolls write poetry. Some things never change.

Secrets to beauty: 1) Smile 2) move the light from directly overhead to just behind the camera 3) don't be named "Eunice". I just saved you a dime. You're welcome.

You know how all husbands control the finances in the house and women wren't even allowed to see what money looks like? Me neither. I don't understand the headline of this ad. I do understand the appeal of stockings with a sofa in them. "Guaranteed hosiery... 9 months furnished." Where do I sign?

This ad isn't selling anything, and they're giving away Charlie McCarthy dolls to whoever sends in poetry suggestions for their limerick. It must be for a radio promotion or something. Or, more likely, once he had your address Charlie McCarthy would visit you in the night and murder the crap out of you. Everyone knows ventriloquist dummies are evil. My brother had one called "Willy Talk". His head was a three pound sphere of PVC that could knock out a pony if you got a good swing with it. If Charlie McCarthy is reciting poetry at me, I figure my number's up. He's not getting my address. He's freaking my shit right out.

 Or, more likely, once he had your address, Charlie McCarthy would visit you in the night and murder the crap out of you. Everyone knows ventriloquist dummies are evil. My brother had one called "Willy Talk". His head was a three pound sphere of PVC that could knock out a pony if you got in a good swing with it. If Charlie McCarthy is reciting poetry at me, I figure my number's up. He's not getting my address. He's freaking my shit right out. Jerry Seinfeld understands.