Flipping Through The Slightly Creepy Seventies

Welcome,  Dear Readers, to the weekend here at the blog! And because it’s Saturday,  we’re just going to kick back, drink some coffee, and flip (or flick if you’re from the UK) through old magazines from history’s  easiest decade to make fun of — the slightly creepy seventies!

Bettter Homes and Gardens 1976
Today we’ll be looking through a Better Homes and Gardens from 1976,

Let’s turn to the page, shall we

Look Younger for your Kids

Happily here’s a problem I’ve never had.  Wanting to look younger for my children.  Who wants to look young for their children?  I just figure as long as my appearance doesn’t embarrass them, they probably won’t ever notice how  young (or old) I look.

And how did slightly-creepy seventies mom stay looking young for her kids?  Well, by washing dishes by hand that’s how!

Ivory Soap
Back in the seventies, it didn’t matter if you face looked old as long as your hands looked young

Back in the seventies, having young-looking hands  was really a big deal.  Nobody cared about your face so much, but,  boy oh boy,  if your hands looked old, it was all over sister!   And the best way to keep your hands looking young  was to sell your automatic dishwasher and wash all your dishes by hand using Ivory liquid dish soap.

Well this is an interesting headline:

Slightly-Creepy-Seventies Cookware that was smarter than some women
Slightly Creepy Seventies Cookware that knew more than it was telling

Apparently back in the Slightly-Creepy Seventies,  only ‘most women’ were better cooks than their cookware.  There must have been some women wandering around the slightly creepy seventies whose cookware could cook better than they could.  How embarrassing!  I only hope their kids didn’t think their hands looked old –or they would have been sailing down the Slightly Creepy Seventies Creek without a paddle.

Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool
Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool

Okay, I’m not even exactly sure what a tool is, Dear Readers, but I’m pretty sure the guy in this picture represents The Quintessential Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool.

What?!  No!!

Ethel Mertz

Our beloved Ethel Mertz as Maxine the Coffee Lady?  That’s just straight-up I Love Lucy blasphemy!   I think you’ll agree, Dear Readers, it’s this kind of  bizarre strangeness that makes the Slightly Creepy Seventies, slightly creepy.

Well that and stuff like this too:

Floor Covering

Apparently it wasn’t enough just to have ugly tile on your floors in the slightly creepy seventies, they had to go and make little sticky linoleum tiles that looked just like  your ugly floor so  you could stick them on your walls and on your cupboards and on your furniture and on your cat.

Which is probably why more people went blind from staring at ugly tile than at any other time in our nation’s history.  And, perhaps not coincidentally,  more people were happy to have gone blind than at any other time in our nation’s history.

Here’s some  slightly creepy seventies towel folding:

Folding Towels weird
There is no way those towels are going to fit in that basket

I’m sorry Slightly-Creepy Seventies  housewife lady but that is a stupid way to fold towels  in any decade!  (But if it’s any consolation your hands do look young — what we can see of them anyway.)

Remember these?

Notes

They were called notes.  And it was the way people kept track of their activities and whatnot in the Slightly-Creepy Seventies  before there were smart phones and text messages.

And they didn’t work very well either:

One Day Early

Whoops!   Somebody didn’t read their slightly creepy seventies notes!

And finally, let’s end on this little bit of slightly creepy seventies fashion:

Captain and first mate t-shirts

Okay, I can’t actually prove it, but what do you want to bet this couple with their matching Captain ‘N First Mate  t-shirts are the proud parents of The Quintessential Slightly Creepy Seventies Tool.   Oh, and  you’ll notice they’re also  hiding their hands.  Apparently they have an electric dishwasher.

Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to close the magazine now, Dear Readers, as there is only so much of the slightingly creepy seventies we can take in one sitting!

Until next time . . . I love you

Embarrassing Valentine Please Don’t! I Beg of You!

Bobby

a picture of a nerd

Having missed the last train to Dorkville, Bobby decided to hang out with me at the coffee shop where I worked — until the next train arrived.

Well not really hang out officially.  More like send me imagined hugs and kisses and god only knows what else from upon the stool he spent a lot of time occupying at the lunch counter.

Bobby was 35, and I was 19.  He was married to a 15-year-old (which was apparently legal in some states back then) but worst of all, Bobby had fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love with me after having misinterpreted my statement, may I take your order?  to mean  I love you Bobby!

From that point forward Bobby was in dorky-stalker Love with a capital L.

Bobby’s personality consisted entirely of him saying no way shape or form after everything.

He’d say:  Do you know what time it is?

I’d say:  2:30

He’d say:  No way shape or form! (only he’d draw out the word form like this:  fo-ho-ho-horm!)

Or he’d say,  “Can I get a cup of coffee?”

I’d say:  “Do you take cream?”

He’d say:  “No way shape or fo-ho-ho-horm.”

“I want to get you something for Valentines Day.” Bobby said to me one day.

“No please!  BOBBY!! Listen to me!” I pleaded,  “You’re married!  It’s completely inappropriate! Please I beg of you.  DO NOT GET ME ANYTHING FOR VALENTINES DAY!”

“No way shape or fo-ho-ho-horm.” Bobby sing-songed.  “I’m getting you something anywho!”

Well sure enough, on Valentines day, during the busiest part of the lunch hour when the coffee shop was full,  here comes Bobby waltzing through the restaurant making a beeline straight for me, his eyes shining brightly with dorky-stalker love, his thick coke-bottle glasses slightly askew in his excitement, carrying a two-and-a-half pound box of chocolates that had a huge story-book doll glued to the top of it.

picture of doll on box of chocolates
Bobby’s secret Valentines Day heart-winning weapon!

All eyes and ears were ratcheted our way listening to the conversation that ensued:

Bobby:  I brought you something, Sweetie!  Happy Valentines day!

I said, “No I can’t take this Bobby!  No!   You need to give it to your wife.”

Bobby: “No way shape or fo-ho-ho-horm.”  I already gave her one just like it!”

Embarrassed and defeated,  I took the world’s largest box of chocolates from Bobby’s grubby little hands — but only because I was starting to hear some  “oh how sweet ooh-ing and ahh-ing” coming from  the lunch crowd.   And I stuck it out of sight as quickly as I could before dissolving into a perfect puddle of Valentines Day humiliation.

I don’t remember what finally happened to Bobby.  Maybe somebody shot him.

If so,  we all know what his last words were.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Dear Readers, and may today and all your Valentines Days be Bobby-free!

Until next time  . . . I love you (No . . no!  Not you Bobby!)