THEY'RE BACK! I knew that if I kept them long enough, my favorite style of all times—would return again! Baby boomers who lived through the 60's and early 70's remember them—Landlubbers, hip-huggers made of every fabric imaginable! I remember one pair in particular—orange, black and white striped—wide stripes. I thought they were particularly cool—until someone told me I looked like I was calling the cows home. Really didn't faze me though—over 30...what did he know?
And would you believe, one of the very first images I came across in a Google search for images of bell bottom pants back then was this one—"the" pants I have described? My pants! And here they are!
And would you believe that these "groovy bell bottoms" were a part of Yoko Ono's wardrobe?
So I was right..what did he know?
My first exposure to bell bottoms was around 1963 when my oldest brother Marc joined the navy—the real thing and they were pretty classy! But I must confess it was after seeing “Sonny and Cher” that I had to have a pair—along with every friend I knew!
Now here I am in 2024—finding this old style beyond hip or groovy—it's functional! As the water rises to my ankles, I just roll them up below the knee—convenient AND stylish. I'm a journaller—I journal about everything. Several years ago, realizing we had bought a house with a very unique plumbing system, I began a plumbing journal. And over the past few years that journal evolved into a 37 page illustrated book! I have decided to release the book here for the first time as a digital version-at a low introductory price. And....if you share my book with your friends you receive an automatic 50% discount!
--> Maybe it was our age, thirteen at the time—perhaps it was the transformation that had taken place in our young impressionable psyches that Sunday night in February as we sat glued to our television sets—totally enraptured by a new group from Liverpool that Ed Sullivan had on his show—or just an overwhelming delusion; but for whatever reason, my young friends and I (along with thousands of other baby boomers at that time) had dreams of stardom.
Let’s face it, we were dreamers!
One hot summer day my friend Leslie sat reading one of her hundreds of comic books and came across an ad in the back for a Record Making Machine. The pages in the back of comic books in the 60's were filled with amazing products. (—that is, until they actually arrived in your mail box) But this ad was so convincing and just what we needed for our group at the brink of stardom!
(..well that may be a bit of an exaggeration. The truth is, we had made one public appearance— we sang at our graduation from elementary school to Jr.High.)
Our group was made up of four girls; Leslie and I and two friends from school, Ingrid and Judy. Ingrid and I played piano and we all sang.
We decided to send for the “machine.”When we emptied our pockets and put our money together we came up short; so we did just what we always did when we were short of cash—loaded up a wagon with empty soda bottles and headed up the street to the small mom and pop store on the corner.
The store sold a little bit of everything; fresh fruit and vegetables, cold cuts, canned goods and of course—soda.We walked home with just enough change to make up the difference.
We were set—only weeks away from being able to record our songs!We mailed in the money with the order form—now all we had to do was wait….and wait.
We had never seen a UPS truck—overnight delivery was something you might see on the Jetsons—fiction.We relied totally on the US Mail and if the ad said 4-6 weeks for delivery, it meant just that. That gave us a lot of time to imagine just how wonderful this product was going to be!
If this isn't the ad, it was one very much like it...looks amazing doesn't it?
Thanks Erik!
“A name! We need a name for our group to put on the record label!”
So we did what we always did when we needed information—opened the encyclopedia!
(Original artwork-all rights reserved)
This was equivalent in the 60’s to an Image search today.
Encyclopedia G—gems.
There were two full pages of beautiful colored gems, listed alphabetically.We looked over both pages.
"There's already a famous group named the Saphires and the Rubies—we’ll have to pick another gem. Hey—The Peridots!”(excuse me while I laugh out loud…)
A record making machine—perfect!We could just envision the label—The Peridots!
After watching The Original Amateur Hour one Saturday before our package arrived, Leslie and I came to the realization that our group could win the competition—at least we could get on the show.
“If that man could get on the show for playing his comb—and a girl for ringing cow bells—we could win for sure!”
Most contestants left the show just as they came, as amateurs; but stars were discovered. Ventriloquist Paul Winchell and pop singers Teresa Brewer, Gladys Knight, and Pat Boone were all discovered on the Ted Mack show.
I sat down at my dad’s typewriter and typed a letter to Ted Mack’s Amateur Hour requesting an audition and within two weeks—to my utter shock— received a response.We were given a date to appear in the studio at New York’s Radio City.
We had three weeks to prepare.
“Cool!We’re going to audition for Ted Mack’s!We’ve got to start practicing—every day after school!" And we did—working on the same two songs every rehearsal.
The first song was the one we sang at our graduation called “Turn Around.” It was a song originally used in a Kodak commercial in the 60's and we fell in love with it.
Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my baby my own?
Turn around and your two,
Turn around and you're four,
Turn around and you're a young girl
going out of the door.
Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Little dirnd'ls and petticoats,
Where have you gone?
Turn around and you're tiny
Turn around and you're grown
Turn around and you're a young wife
with babes of your own.
The second song we practiced was an original written by me. It was called Togetherness and I will spare you the words—but it was a song about falling in love...of course.
Two weeks before the date of the audition we realized—“We need matching outfits!
All the groups on the show wear matching outfits!"
We decided on collarless navy blue shirts with white trim—a surfer style in the 60’s.With our white pleated skirts and white tennis shoes—we must have looked like... the surfing cheerleaders!
And one final detail—“We need a ride to New York City!”
That’s where my dad came in.He was great—if this was something we wanted to do and felt we could compete, he would be happy to get us there.
(Oh...another minor detail...my dad had never heard us sing)
-->
We headed for New York City on a Friday. New York was about a forty minute ride from where we lived in Upper Montclair, New Jersey.
Four thirteen year old girls in a VW with my dad—on their way to a rehearsal for a television show.
God bless him!
We arrived with just enough time to go to the ladies room and get ready.We opened the door in time to catch the tail end of a practice by a group of young girls auditioning before us.They were dancing and singing dressed in these flashy sequined, amazing matching outfits.
There was nothing amateur about them—they were fantastic!
And here we were dressed like— the surfing cheerleaders.
-->
We decided to save our best song for last hoping we’d sing two songs—B-A-D decision.
The judges called us in. Ingrid played piano and Leslie, Judy and I sang Turn Around.
We were just preparing to sing our best song when…
“OK girls…thank you for coming—
If we decide to have you on the show you will receive a letter within a week or so!
….NEXT!
Well.. the letter never did arrive , but we did get a package in the mail the following week.It wasn’t a big package.Certainly not big enough to contain a machine!
But it was—our Record Making Machine. It consisted of a small attachment that hooked onto the arm of a record player. There were some blanks that looked like records and a small megaphone. After trying it once—following the two lines of instructions, realizing we'd been had— we dumped it in the garbage; concluding that we wouldn’t be needing a Record Making Machine after all.
We couldn’t even pass for amateurs!
A few days later....
"Hey Leslie, take a look at this neat little typewriter! We could send for it and type our stories on it and...."
(.....Our other dream was to become authors)
And as all Baby boomer know—sometimes dreams really do come true!
*As I think back now about this silly, embarrassing memory I realize again that ours was a gentler, kinder world. The "contestant humiliation element," was non existent as it is on the newer talent search shows.
....Can you just imagine what Simon would have thought of the Peridots?!We didn't make it to Ted Mack's but at least I got an A- on the story!
Home permanents had come a long way by the 50's. But not quite far enough!
This ad promotion from the 50's featured identical twins, with identical looking hair styles. One was done professionally, the other was done at home.
In his role as radio announcer for the long-running mystery series, Casey, Crime Photographer, sponsored by Toni,Bill Cullen would often deliver the commercial as if he was a character in the program. He would ask his radio audience..
"...which girl has the Toni?"
From my one experience as a child, I don't think either one of them did! But before I take you back to the first time I saw my father cry— lets go back to 1909 and the day Karl Nessler's wife Katharine Laible had her very first home permanent.Her husband Karl had been working several years perfecting a method to curl hair using chemical treatments, electrical heating devices and brass rollers each weighing about two pounds. It was a complex system, using countering weights suspended from an overhead chandelier and mounted on a stand to prevent the hot rollers from touching the scalp. The process took at least six hours. History records him using a mixture of cow urine and water. (urban legend? Perhaps!)Now it's hard for me to imagine Katharine willingly subjecting herself to this process. But it is even more unbelievable that she allowed her husband to give her a second permanent after the first one completely burned her hair off, scalding her scalp. .....He didn't quite have it down the second time either–she lost all of her hair again.
He did eventually perfect the method and his electric permanent wave machine was patented in London in 1909 and went into widespread use.
Unlike Karl Nessler's wife, I had only one permanent as a young girl.
By the time it was my turn, Toni had produced a product that women could use at home for $2 (compared to $15 if done professionally at a hair salon) The cow urine was gone-but it had its own distinct smell—not a big improvement.
In April of 1957 my mother was in the hospital after delivering her seventh child, my brother Chris—son #6. At that time mothers were kept in the hospital for at least a week following the delivery of a baby. A live-in baby sitter was hired to help take care of the other six children at home. My Dad thought it would be nice to surprise my mom on Easter Sunday morning with a visit from all of her children. We were not allowed in the hospital, but we could stand outside on the lawn and wave up to her at her window. The babysitter, a very capable elderly woman, thought it would be nice to surprise my dad and give his little girl her very first home permanent. Wouldn't she look nice waving up at the window with all those curls?The picture was not quite as dreamy as she envisioned. When the curlers were removed my head was covered with a mass of frizz and gnarled, kinky curls. When my dad arrived home he took one look at me, covered my head with a towel and escorted me next door. Mrs. McGrady was a nurse and she could fix just about anything.
"Marge! Can you do something?!
"I'll try Wally! I'll try!"
She did try. I remember standing in front of her full length mirror and watching her brush, and brush, and brush— and watching those PERMANENT curls pop right back up to where they were, springing about six inches off the top of my head.
My dad waited outside the door. But sorry to say I looked exactly the same when I walked out.
(ok...it's not an actual photo. There were no pictures taken of me that day)
I'm sure I'm not the only 50's Baby Boomer who had a bad perm experience! We learned to do one thing when we caught a whiff of that pungent Toni solution—
.....RUN!
Update: May 21, 2013
I have never seen this photo before today. It is a photo from that day. I think that my Easter hat is covering the rest of the FRIZZ!
Anyone who knows us and a little bit about our life over the years, knows that this is a tongue in cheek statement! Is there anything we haven't been through as a couple? Yikes, it makes me tired just thinking about it.
There is one thing that we have not been through and for this am very thankful. We have always been—and always will be true blue lovers!
It's been an amazing journey, from the year 1970 when we met in my Dad's shop. (I was the boss's daughter) Here is a picture that makes me smile—taken in a photo booth at Seaside Heights, NJ.
Our love at first sight romance lasted about two years until we parted company. The world had become a confusing place with lots of questions but not many answers. The story of our getting back together—and marriage six months later deserves a separate post!
But until then, here's a little video I made for our 30th anniversary....
...it seemed appropriate to pull out the old typewriter for this adventure.
It wasn’t easy—such a big klunker to carry down from the attic—all the cobwebs that had accumulated. But now that I’ve started typing it’s all coming back to me. It just wouldn’t be the same typing on a sleek, streamlined computer keyboard.
I remember just where it sat—on the dining room table when the table wasn’t being used for mealtime.
I recall many evenings running into the dining room and finding my dad deep in thought, his mind off in another place another time, the smoke from his pipe swirling gently over his head to the chandelier above. His hands would move swiftly, fingers decisively over the keys stopping only to ponder his next approach. He would lift me up onto his lap and let me know that I had his full attention for that few moments.
"Good night, Mame-doll!" he'd say, and I'd slide down his knee and run upstairs to bed. He would go back to work and I would fall asleep to the rhythmic sound of his typewriter as he worked well into the night.
My Dad was a writer—an ad man, an idea man—and he could create copy that could sell just about anything. That's because he wrote as colorfully as he spoke—he typed faster than anyone I had ever seen type, because he just couldn't wait to get his next idea down on paper. He was excited about life—about creating and it came through in everything he did.
My dad gave me the nick name "Mamie" when I was three years old, a very appropriate name for a Baby Boomer at that time—I was named after Mamie Eisenhower. We had something in common—bangs.
And would you believe that these "groovy bell bottoms" were a part of Yoko Ono's wardrobe?
