Showing posts with label a whole lotta crazy going on. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a whole lotta crazy going on. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Way-Out Wednesday, Holiday Horrors Valentine's Day Edition: Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Welcome to the last Way-Out Wednesday, Holiday Horrors Valentine's Day Edition: Crazy Little Thing Called Love. Emphasis on the crazy.

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As promised, I've been spotlighting vintage Valentine's Day cards that are a little off-center. A little wacky. A little psychotic. So for today's finale, I'm showing off not just one, but five of my current favorites! Because all this crazy should be shared.



Vintage Valentine #1:

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Alcoholism is super romantic.




Vintage Valentine #2:

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I think this is what is called harassment. Oh wait! Sorry, it's called love.




Vintage Valentine #3:

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Knowing why you're a loveless, friendless, dateless asshole is the first step.




Vintage Valentine #4:

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Raggedy Andy was just asking for it.




Vintage Valentine #5:

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Hey, at least he's being honest.


Thursday, August 20, 2009

Where Is My Mind?

Oh, Spinnerin. I love you so. They're like crack to me, so full of the crazy. For those not in the know, vintage Spinnerin manuals are pattern & instruction booklets for making various kinds of crap by knitting it into a sweater. The sweaters themselves aren't what's nuts about them, in fact, the sweaters usually kick all kinds of ass and I would hoard them all if I had them in real life. It's the photo documentaries of the models in them that are so ridiculously stupid and make no sense. That makes them wonderful. I've mocked vintage Spinnerin magazines here before- I wouldn't say I'm totally obsessed with them, only slightly. There's a difference.

Here's another great, 1966's Spinnerin: His & Hers, so now the crazy comes in female AND male form! Great. First, the cover.


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Ooh, a summer scene! This should be fun AND fitting, since it's also summer! Yay! Ok. So. Let's see, what have we got here...Middle of the summer? Established that. Green murky water? I suppose. Maybe it's a lake. They get a pass, I suppose. Standing in green murky water with pants on? Umm, I guess...? What is that, like some random folding chair sitting in the water? Wha...? How very white trash of them. Fuzzy mohair sweaters in the middle of summer?!...Really?!


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This is why you can't screw with the upper class.


Man: "I can't believe the Johnsons are yachting on the same day we are! How gauche. We can't take ours out now."

Woman: "And would you look at Edith! She looks positively ghastly in that pantsuit. It looks like 200 pounds of chewed-up gum shoved into double knit. So I guess using an entire can of Aqua Net to keep my beehive in place was for nothing. Damn that Edith. That cow."

Man: "That's alright dear. I've cut their gas lines, emptied their water coolers, broke their oars AND it looks like a storm is rolling in! And I've just stolen their only life preserver! Mwuhahahaha!..."



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The cigarette is the only thing right with this picture.



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So...I guess we're not on the lake anymore? Where the hell are they now? And why do the women keep changing? Does Captain Tightslacks have a broad stashed at every port, literally? Spinnerin, you lost me.

"Listen to this, honey! There's an echo when I yell down your sweater! Hello down there?! Hello!--o!-o!-o!-o!-..."

Ironically, the page is titled "Paired to Perfection." Ha!



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Aaaaaand we're back on the water with the redhead now? That was fast. Captain Tightslacks prefers his women with a big rack, I take it? Soooo...a table in the middle of the lake? Perfectly reasonable.





"Where is my Mind" by the Pixies.