I originally wasn’t too thrilled with the copy of the May 1978 issue of Women’s Circle magazine I held in my hands, for it didn’t beckon with glamor and fashion. But experience has taught me not to judge a publication by its cover, so I made myself turn each page with careful consideration. I didn’t have to go far before something caught my fancy… There on the first real page of content, instructions for making candlesticks from glass insulators.

Make Candlesticks From Glass Insulators

At the top of the page, a line of text stating information on collecting insulators would be found on page 24 — but I had to turn each page to get there, due to my afore mentioned promise. (Which meant I discovered how to batik with cookie cutters, and that there once was a woman who billed herself as The Queen Of The Senile Girls — among other things.) But eventually I got to page 24 and found several pages on collecting insulators.

Types Of Insulators

Collecting Insulators

1978 Article On Collecting Insulators

I don’t collect insulators; but nevertheless, they bring back memories. (And not all of them are flattering — but bear with me, collectors of insulators! I promise, I learn my lesson.)

I remember as a child rummage sale-ing with my parents and spotting boxes of turquoise-y blue glass. They didn’t interest me, but boy were other adults interested in them. During the 70’s it seemed every driveway that had such boxes also had a set of bickering grown-ups ready to do battle over whose hand had touched the box first. Anything that reduced adults to behaving worse than my sister and I was worthy of my attention, so I asked my parents what those glass things were.

Dad explained that they were insulators, typically from telephone lines. Actually, Dad said a lot more than that — I recall words like ‘electricity’ and ‘conductor’ being used — but I zoned out and naturally enough looked up. Seeing so many insulators ‘everywhere’ had me confused as to the popularity of the insulators. I couldn’t understand the fascination. Even when Dad said something about new lines going underground and that glass insulators were becoming (more or less) obsolete, I was underwhelmed.

Glass Insulator Photo by @nn at Flickr

Click The Images To See Larger Scans

This is not only a typical child’s reaction, but the typical reaction of anyone who does not collect what others do: We often just don’t “get it”.

But first there’s more to learn.

As I grew a bit older, I saw the interest in insulators wane. There were no more arguments over the boxes — and soon, or so it seemed, boxes of insulators weren’t even given a second glance, often remaining at the end of those driveways until garbage day. And, being the (bratty) little pros we were, my sister and I would snicker at dealers who had insulators proudly displayed (and highly priced) at flea markets and antique shows. (Any real dealer would know how passé insulators were — duh!) Sometimes, as dealers learned their (short-term) lessons, we’d even see those insulators in the trash cans at the end of flea markets; inventory literally dumped.

Thus, I learned about ‘collecting trends’. (And, I’ll admit, to peeking in garbage cans at fair grounds.)

By the mid-80’s, I was no longer a bratty child; I was a snotty 20-something who rolled her eyes when she spotted a insulator collection in a young man’s apartment — after all, hadn’t I put away such childish things, having divested myself of pink poodle spaghetti figurines?

:sigh: Some of us have to learn the hard way.

Insulator Photo by jumpinjimmyjava at Flickr

Not only do I mourn the loss of my pink poodle friends, but I wish I hadn’t been such an idiot about insulators — or the guys who collected them. Had I only stopped to think of how interesting, passionate, dedicated, committed (at least to their collection!), and delightfully nutty collectors are… Well, maybe I wouldn’t have made less dating mistakes; but at least the mistakes would have been with far more interesting, passionate and delightfully nutty guys. *wink*

I mean what collector can’t appreciate another collector going frame by frame through a scene in The Wedding Singer, to identify the individual insulators behind Robby Hart’s bed? Now that’s dedication (and nuttiness) I can admire.

I may not collect insulators, but I appreciate them now — and I’m not just saying this because insulators now can fetch a pretty penny either. I appreciate their history, rarity, their beauty when set in sunny places, and the collectors who pursue them.

I appreciate insulators so much so that I shudder to think how many old insulators may have been lost to landfills, damaged due to neglect — or even made into candlesticks.

True Confessions (originally published by Fawcett Publications in 1922; currently published by Dorchester Media) is a magazine of ‘true confessions’ — still today one of the largest markets for short fiction stories — aimed at a young female readership between the ages of 20 and 35.

The magazines are highly collectible, in no small part due to the gorgeous illustrated covers of movie stars of the age. What’s not to love?

Vintage True Confession Magazine

Even when they used photographs of models, the vintage style hooks me.

True Confessions Magazine From 1942

But I, as usual, like to study these vintage magazines for the articles & the ads; the over-all message of the magazine.

What I’ve found in the vintage issues of True Confessions is a masterful combination of effective manipulation. Here the publishers combine the salacious lure of gossip magazines and tabloids with the traditional women’s publications fare of subtle (ish) & simultaneous pitches for products & lifestyle — a lifestyle which says, literally, that a “a girl’s main function is to charm” in order to “please a male”.

I should be offended — and part of me is! — but I just can’t help falling in love with the grand illustration, the vintage glamour…

Miriam Hopkins On True Confessions

It’s seductive.

Perhaps the publishers win… But not for the reasons they/you think. While I find the issues intoxicating, I’m not (completely?) sold on the beauty & charm in product or lifestyle. What I want to buy is the recipe for such success — and that’s not something they’re selling. So I keep paging through them, looking at each ‘ingredient,’ hoping I can figure it out. And that’s my confession. A real confession, not the short fiction variety.

So I’m flipping through an issue of the National Enquirer from 1979, as I’m wont to do — don’t look at me like that, you’d do it too if you had some.

Women Born From 1905 to 1909 Had The Fewest Children

Anyway, I find this snippet (buried on page 63 of the issue dated February 20, 1979), titled “Women Born From 1905 to 1909 Had The Fewest Children.” And it fascinates me.

You know how I love to read about that feminist stuff — or, as some might say, turn everything into feminist stuff. But there’s just the three scant paragraphs. And it’s the National Enquirer for gosh-sake.

So, being in ‘the library’ (yes, that’s a euphemism for the bathroom) and, still pondering the subject of childless women who were born in the early 1900’s, I reach for whatever other reading material might be laying in the magazine rack.

Through what, again, can only be described as the Serendipity Of The Collecting Gods, my hand finds a back issue of The Keynoter, the Journal of the American Political Items Conservators published by the American Political Items Collectors.

On page 42 of that Winter, 2007, issue is an article titled “I Am For Playgrounds” by Steve Baxley. It describes the story behind the William Howard Taft celluloid button bearing the same slogan.

Taft: I Am For Playgrounds

You, like political memorabilia collector Steve Mihaly, might wonder why this would be a political slogan — after all, who could possibly not be for playgrounds?

Baxley explains how back in the 1890’s urban areas were opening play lots where children could play within urban areas. Baxley writes:

Many women involved in the women’s suffrage movement also became involved in the Mother’s and Children’s Movement, which tried to influence state and local legislators to pass legislation protecting women and child laborers and create schools, kindergartens, and playgrounds to keep children off the street. Though these women could not vote, they were very successful in influencing stare and local government officials in achieving these goals. By 1905, many of the larger cities were providing appropriations for the maintenance of playgrounds.

In 1906 the Playground Association of America was founded. President Taft supported the group’s work as well as appropriations for playgrounds; this is where the button comes from.

What’s all this got to do with the low birthrate among women born between 1905 and 1909 — the very girls who would have played on those playgrounds?

I don’t know. Not really.

But the historian in me must make (educated) guesses.

The women born between 1905 and 1909 were the same young girls who grew up during the years of the women’s suffrage movement in the US. They would have seen the struggle, heard the talk, and knew they could have greater freedom of choice in living their lives. They too would see, if not quite be, part of the flapper movement. Activism and parenting being almost completely at odds with one another, some may have opted not to have children — and at this time, birth control, thanks to Margaret Sanger, was becoming a realistic option.

And, just as these young women were perhaps thinking of starting a family…

Along comes The Great Depression — the one of that started about 1929, not the one some say we are approaching now — and the birthrate fell about one-tenth globally from the rate during the “prosperous” 1920’s. In America, the birth rate dropped below the replacement level for the first time in history.

Pretty good guesses, huh.

But then I have all my ephemera to thank for that.  And my ‘library’ time.

A day without kids, just $20 to spend — what should we do? Well, there’s an auction in town…

For just $5 of that $20 I get me a nice old box of ephemera. The stuff of other people’s travels, everything from travel books & maps to unsent souvenir postcards and — believe it or not — table toppers proclaiming the drink minimums, but not the location.

Retro Drink Minimum Table Topper

These people saved everything, and I love them for it.

Here are a few of my favorite finds so far — I’m sure there will be even better gems once I slow down and really look at everything. (You can keep up with my sorting by watching my collection here.)

Unsent postcards from Harrah’s in Reno, publicity for TV’s “F Troop” in the Headliner Room:

F Troop Postcard

The airline flight instruction card from TWA’s Convair 880 jet:

TWA Laminated Flight Card

There were many copies of a brochure for Cleveland’s Terminal Tower Observatory — I dig this one for the arrow, presumably to illustrate to friends just how high they went in the tower:

Terminal Tower Observatory Brochure Marked With Arrow

The daily dinner menu from the Prince of Wales Hotel, 1962. Mmmm, the cold buffet features Ox Tongue.

1962 Prince Of Wales Hotel Menu

Even if I could to afford to travel like these people, I’d never see what they saw. The places, logos and times have changed. In some cases they’re long gone. But since they saved all this ephemera, I can see it just as it was. It’s almost like traveling in a way… Of course, this way I don’t need to watch other people eat cold ox tongue. That’s a bonus.

Back in February I posted 13 Fascinating Clippings From 1957, which included this bit:

In a feature called May We Present, we learn of the miracle of dog obedience via Blanche Saunders (featured with her poodles).

“Miss Saunders’s talents are now so much in demand that getting your dog into one of her classes is roughly comparable to getting your son into Harvard.”

Well, at least it was easier than getting your daughter in.

And then I heard from Beverly. Her niece Lisa found the post and contacted Beverly to let her know — because Blanche was Beverly’s great aunt (and therefore Lisa’s great great aunt). This is what she wrote:

We don’t have many photos or much background material, so the items below were so meaningful. I’m so glad you have a hobby that takes you through old magazines! You have have come across my mother Joan Saunders, who also trained poodles and had her own poodle shop in Manhattan.

One never knows how one is going to connect with others. And isn’t the Web fabulous!

The Web is indeed fabulous! I think I may have been even more thrilled than Beverly; for while it certainly is fun to connect with people, it’s super-bonus-point-time when my junk gets validated for having a purpose.

I asked Beverly if I could share her story; she replied, “By all means, share the story, Deanna.” And sent along the following information:

I am rather pleased for my great Aunt Blanche, who was quite an unusual, accomplished woman way back when women were stuck in “little boxes.” She was a Canadian, by the way, from Petitcodiac, New Brunswick. How she got to the elegant realms of Manhattan and a townhouse in the east Fifties must have been quite a story—one that she took with her. She had the first (and for years the only) poodle shop in that New York townhouse in addition to running Carillon Kennels. Katharine Cornell, the Bennett sisters (Constance and Joan), Gov. of New York Tom Dewey and a slew of celebrities and members of Eastern Upper Crust were among her clientele. I attach a document with some other background that you might find of interest.

This is some of the information she sent; I include it for any others who are interested in Blanche Saunders & poodles:

Catharine C. Reiley, “Poodles in obedience”, Mackey J. Irick, The New Poodle, 6th ed. (New York: Howell Book House, 1986), [includes] an account of the 10,000 miles 10-week “trailer trek” across North America during the fall of 1937 by Helene Whitehouse Walker (founder of the sport in North America, and charter member of the Poodle Club of America) and her then-assistant, the now-legendary trainer, instructor, and author, Blanche Saunders–with three Standard Poodles–to popularize the then-new sport.

…Saunders died in 1964; her memory is honoured each year at the Poodle Club of America’s National Specialty when a trophy in her name is awarded to the highest-scoring Poodle in the Open B class.

So it certainly would be fair to say that Blanche Saunders helped put the “standard” in poodles. *wink*

Beverly signed her email saying, “And thank you again. I’m certain that wherever my aunt’s spirit is, she is enjoying this connection.”

Now doesn’t that just make collecting, scanning and sharing seem so important & vital? Who knows what keys you & your collection hold to someone else’s history. So get out your stuff & share it in the Collectors Quest Community — I just know someone out there is going to be thrilled that you did.