Hello Dear Readers! What shall we do today? Hm . . . Oh I know! Let’s look at how Moms have been portrayed as Brain Dead through the decades. As it just so happens, I found a few vintage cookbooks that we can use to contrast and compare.
Brain Dead Mom from 1937
Poor Brain Dead Mom from 1937! It looks like she might have infused just a tad too much personality into her baked goods. So much so that they are now holding her hostage. And is her shadow sprouting a horn? Oh my! But somehow Brave Brain Dead Mom of 1937 still manages to smile even though she can’t quite hide the terror in those vacant peepers of hers.
Brain Dead Mom from 1953:
Ah! Brain Dead Mom from 1953 is clearly relieved and happy now. The War is over! Hitler’s dead! And, judging from her eyes, her doctor just prescribed a lifetime supply of Seconal for her anxiety as well as Benzedrine to be taken every ten minutes to ensure her waist circumference stays at 11-and-1/2-inches. Which gives Brain Dead Mom from 1953 lots and lots of energy so she can dedicate her entire existence to cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking . . .
Brain Dead Mom from 1959
Brain Dead Mom from 1959 has her act together! No more cowering in the horn-sprouting shadows from her baked goods. No more mindless cooking and cooking and cooking. No sir! When one gazes into the eyes of Brain Dead Mom from 1959, one can clearly detect a Valium-induced, vague optimism for the future of her country, the future of her family and the future of her green pepper. Clearly Brain Dead Mom of 1959 is a more confident women than her predecessors. Why? Because she doesn’t know any better, that’s why!
Brain Dead Mom From 1965
A Ring a ding ding, Baby! Brain Dead Mom from 1965 has it all going on! She doesn’t even have to open her eyes anymore! Oh sure she’s still popping a few “bennies” now and then, but come on! How else is she going to maintain her 11- and-1/2-inch waist what with all the food she’s been eating and all those martinis she’s been swilling with her new devil-may-care attitude? Brain Dead Mom from 1965 would never cower from her own baking! Ha ha! Don’t make her laugh! Because Brain Dead Mom from 1965 has a life! She’s fancy! She’s frivolous! She’s fun! And somewhere along the line she learned to play the triangle!
I have a feeling there are lots and lots of other examples of Brain Dead Moms Through the Decades out there on the shelves of my favorite thrift store! And I make this pledge to you, Dear Readers, that I will not rest until I have messed up everything on the shelf looking for them!
Until next time . . . I love you
. . .. and cooking and cooking cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking and cooking . . .to be continued . . .
Hello Dear Readers! Remember our favorite family, the Perfects, who live out their perfectly happy lives within the pages of a 1965 Casserole Cookbook?
The Perfects, Father Ken, Mother Kendra, Fine Young Lad Kenny and Girl the Size of a Newborn Baby with Abilities and Hair Far Beyond Her Years, What’s Her Name
Well this blog is saddened to report that the Perfects have been having a little problem with Perfect Father Ken. Lately his behavior has become a little uh . . .well see for yourself:
It all started out one fine morning in the Casserole People Cook Book just after the page had been turned. Everything was going along as usual. Perfect Mother Kendra was mixing up a batch of hot cake casserole and Fine Young Lad, Kenny, and Baby Sister, What’s Her Name, were helping their mother — dressed up in finery with matching chef hats as usual. Even their dog, Spot, was fully present in both mind and spirit!
But where was Perfect Father Ken?
Instead of going to the office, where Perfect Father Ken had been cheerfully employed everyday of his life since he was six months old, Perfect Father Ken had decided, instead, to enlist the help of the family mouse, KenKen to help him knit. Naturally Perfect Mother Kendra and the Perfect children handled this very strange turn of events by pretending it just wasn’t happening.
Later that day, Perfect Mother Kendra tried to broach the subject with her Perfect Neighbor Nan.
“Say, Nan, I have a rather awkward question to ask you. I’m having a little problem with my Perfect Husband, Ken.” “Shoot!” “Well, uh . . does your husband, Ned, ever have a nervous breakdown?” “Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say your Perfect Husband, Ken, was irregular! Listen, my Ned is always having nervous breakdowns. And when that happens, I merely give him Seconal! I’ve got an extra bottle. I’ll let you have it.” “Thanks Nan! You’re a sport!” “Don’t mention it. After all, what are neighbors for?”
Perfect Neighbor Nan gave Perfect Mother Kendra an economy-sized bottle of Seconal. Mother Kendra quickly ran home for it was nearly time to prepare the lunch casserole.
The Perfect children watched enraptured as Perfect Mother Kendra prepared two casseroles, one for the children and herself, and one especially for Perfect Father Ken.
When she was done she put them both on the table.
“I must remember that this lunch custard casserole is the one that has the Seconal for Father, and this lunch custard casserole doesn’t . . . or is it the other way around?”
After lunch, Perfect Father Ken took the Perfect children out to play. When Perfect Mother Kendra peeked outside and saw Perfect Father Ken playing with the Perfect children, she was very much relieved by what she saw.
Perfect Father Ken was back to being his old self!
Perfect Mother Kendra made a mental note to thank her Perfect Neighbor Nan by baking her a Seconal Luncheon Custard Casserole for her lunch tomorrow!
Let’s take a look at the magazine dwell; it will be swell.
Nothing like the feel of cement to put the "omf" in comfy!
The Art of the Dwell
On the cover of the July/August 2011 issue of dwell, we see a woman smiling as she relaxes on a slab of cement.
I remember being in a dwelling such as this in 4th-grade when our class took a field trip to Grand Coulee Dam.
Of course, there weren’t any colorful throw pillows or comfy 3-inch pads to sit on. But the field trip would have been a dam sight better had there been.
What? The Government couldn't afford a few throw pillows with the taxes we pay?
But, sadly, we weren’t living in a modern world when I was in the 4th-grade. We were living in the 1960’s, and it only seemed like we were living in the modern world. How very foolish we were!
Even if we would have known we were living in a modern world at the time, we wouldn’t have had the slightest idea how to feel at home in the modern world and would have just ended up panicking.
Enter: dwell — a magazine that is a publication specifically about being: “At Home in the Modern World”
Guess what dwell Magazine did? Nevermind, I’ll tell you. First, they scoured the world and then after scouring the world, they finally found a couple who had been living in a yurt and who, therefore, had saved up enough money to buy a new house and ten thousand dollars worth of furniture.
Mr. and Mrs. Yurt and the little Yurt-ling
And guess what? Nevermind I’ll tell you. Once the house was completed and all the furniture had arrived, dwell Magazine stepped in to help the yurt people arrange said furniture. All it took was a team of “Visual Specialists”, some “Delivery Associates” and “a stringer from the staff of dwell magazine” to get the living room whipped into shape by arranging it thusly:
We know it doesn't look all that impressive. But it might if you "dwell" on it.
Thank goodness for dwell Magazine for God only knows how wrong things could have gone with just the yurt people pushing and shoving things around to make everything fit. They probably would have used their yak for a coffee table for crying out loud!
"Would you hold still, Bessie or Bossie, whatever your name is!"
Thank goodness there were teams of professional professionals standing by to move things a hair to the right or left — so as to give it the effect of just rightness in a modern world so that now the yurt people can finally sit back relax and say, thank you dwell Magazine (and whoever) for taking all the credit for making us feel at home in the modern world.
Hello my fine feathered friends! Welcome! Today we are going to decorate ourselves senseless with some great decorating tips from a 1965 publication I found at my favorite thrift store.
"Uh . . . OK, this is awkward."
This caption was suggested by my daughter, Jackie, who, by the way, is getting married in September to Tyler. In fact, she was so impressed with this distinctive decorating concept that she plans to surprise her new husband by redecorating their apartment using her most cherished item of clothing for inspiration. I can’t wait to see what Jackie comes up with!
Jackie
I’m sure Tyler will love it!
Tyler
Anyway, matching one’s dress with the one’s curtains isn’t the only idea 1,001 Decorating Ideas has up it’s . . . ahem. . . sleeve. We can see by the cover that this is “Book 22” — which means someone had to squeeze out 21,021 decorating ideas before they even got to this one.
This might explain why the title of this publication says 1,001 Decorating Ideas and not 1,001 “Good” Decorating Ideas. Let’s take a look at some of the bedrooms for starters, shall we?
Putting the Print in Print
The caption reads: “The one-fabric look was created by Edmund Motyka using a charming floral print.” Edmund Motyka liked this print so much he commissioned 47 suits, 24 ties, 15 dress shirts, 5 pairs of Bermuda shorts and a pair of mukluks (size 13) to be fashioned in this very same material. If you look very carefully you can just make him out lying there on the bed.
Oh Boy!
Edmund Motyka once again takes the credit for designing this little boy’s bedroom. The bunk bed mattresses are made of “latex foam rubber”, the only material known to man in 1965 that could withstand the violent wallpaper-induced tossing and turning that ensued 365 nights a year. It should also be noted that this decor later gained notoriety for being the direct cause of the first official case of Attention Deficit Disorder ever recorded.
Edmund Motyka liked the print so well he commissioned 17 smoking jackets, 8 berets, 4 hankies and a pair of spats (size 13) to be fashioned out of this very same material. If you look carefully you can just make him out on his tippy toes peeking in the window.
Fringe Ball Ballyhoo
The caption tells us that Edmund Motyka has been a very busy man but also, very practical in many ways. For instance, this red purge of print is a “colorful and inexpensive calico” with wallpaper to match (natch), but here he has gone one step further in his quest to cover every square inch of humanity in print. He has added an “accent of white ball fringe.” Just when we were starting to get used to Edmund’s design aesthetic, he goes and throws in some white ball fringe. That Edmund!
Edmund Motyka liked the print so well he commissioned 103 muumuus, 53 headscarves, 7 pairs of moccasins and 4 matching white ball fringe necklaces to be fashioned out of this very same material. If you look carefully you can just make him out hanging, white-knuckled, from the rafters.
Well, my fellow 1965 Decorating Idea Aficionados, that about does it for today. Happily, there are many more pages to explore in our beloved 1,001 Decorating Ideas Book 22.
(And don’t worry, Jackie, you’re sure to get plenty more fab ideas to get your apartment whipped into shape before the Big Day!)
Linda Vernon Humor 