Margate Felix

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Yes! Kicking off this Deitch Studio weekend with a new photo postcard purchase of Felix posing with a pint-sized friend. Since I collect deeply in this area I can cheerfully say with some certainty that I really overpaid for this card, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to as a collector and of course each of these cards is singular. (I assure you I have bitterly regretted every one that has gotten away from me.) Also notable, it is the very first time in all these years I have purchased one of these cards from a US source. Every other one I own has come from Britain, Australia (Katoomba!) or (I believe) New Zealand.

Compared to many others in my collection, this photo suffers a bit from exhausted chemicals in the making and has faded. Somehow however it has become more atmospheric and this little girl in her white frock and falling knee socks, holding Felix’s paw-hand, is sort of emerging out of the image at us. Behind her we can make out a white hatted woman (or taller child) in the white cotton beach garb of Britain in the 20’s, carrying some sort of lap rug. There are other blurry figures behind her and the outline of the tall buildings that surround this beach area.

Posing on a black cat chair at Margate. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

I have several photos of Margate’s summer pleasures past in my possession, most notably numerous ones of a giant cat chair one could pose on as well. A few of those posts and photos can be found here and here, although there are many so shop around in the archive for others.

The Felix in today’s pic is a low-rise model if you will, a pint-sized version whose pointy ears just come up to her tiny shoulder. (Many of my photos show this size Felix as opposed to the much larger ones I think of as “life sized”, closer to the size of a midget.) At a glance I don’t think this particular Felix is represented in my collection – he has a rather singular appearance – his face is rather tidy and his arms are very long! (My theory is these were designed this way to encourage people to throw his arm around them perhaps?) I imagine the arms on Felix were somewhat moveable and the head probably swiveled and turned a bit for posing. I generally prefer my Felix-es with a slightly more maniacal expression.

Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

This card was never mailed although the inscription on the back also endeared it to me. In a faded script it says Taken at Margate 21st of Aug 24 and below Our Alana 2 years old 23 Months To Gran Daddy at USA. So it must have been put in an envelope or package and mailed to our shores all those years ago. It has a pinhole from where it spent time thump tacked up on a wall. It is faded and tattered but those are signs of having been beloved I think.

Margate photo postcard. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

As this card creeps close to its one hundredth summer since it was snapped at that sandy beachside resort, I am reminded that simple summer pleasures have remained largely the same. On that note, it is time for me to throw on my running shorts, finish my ice coffee and get out for a run as this beautiful June morning beckons.

Verso of today’s card.

Mangold Felix – aka Uncle Felix

Pam’s Pictorama Toy Post: Today’s recent acquisition is a bit of a head scratcher. I purchased him at a Bertoia auction recently. I was laying in bed late one night when I saw the email for the auction. I threw a bid on him and more or less forgot about it until I won and an email invoice showed up, a happy moment indeed.

From a Bertoia sale. Not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

I know I have seen this toy once or twice before, but the price must have been high or I was too late because I never remember bidding on him. While it is not a common toy; I did find one or two other examples online sold at auction previously. He is memorable though I think and you could almost think it was a hand-painted one of a kind. I have christened this jolly fellow Uncle Felix.

It appears to come from a pattern by a toy maker called Gunthermann (or Guntermann) which seems over the decades, to become something of the epitome of extraordinarily rare and expensive Felix items. I show the Felix merry-go-round below which fetches the price of a good used car at auction these days. (Someone prone to hyperbole on Pinterest called it the rarest toy ever.) Sadly it is unlikely to ever darken my door (I don’t play the lottery) nor am I even likely to see one in person although I would very much like to see it move. The maker is also responsible for a pull toy of Felix chasing mice (shown near top) which seems to always go for a mint as well.

Also sold by Bertoia Auction recently, the mysterious Felix merry-go-round toy! Sadly unlikely to ever be in Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

There is no information about my fellow in particular and whatever the relationship between Gunthermann (a German toy company that goes back to the 1890’s) and Mangold is not readily obtainable. The names around the Felix walking toys of this type seems to be interchangeable, although this odd variant seems to go under the Mangold name. Please do enlighten me if you know the facts here.

My version of the Gunthermann walking Felix. Arms are not missing, they are pinned behind in the thinking position! Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Above is my own early (albeit beat-up) version of the Gunthermann walking Felix which I wrote about previously in a post found here. Also shown below is the more common version of the same toy pattern. The obvious question is, why did someone decide to disguise Felix in eyeglasses and a cheery black, red and white suit? How many could have been made and sold and why take a popular character make a very popular toy of him and then change it up? His red glasses taking the place of the black circles around Felix’s eyes. Mine wears a nifty white vest with painted buttons, white gloved hands and red trousers (with a pinstripe!) that end in black spats – his tail is painted white.

The more common Gunthermann Felix walking toy. Not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Uncle Felix does still work, his key winds and his legs do a splendid sort of hopping walk. (He seems too fragile though to try to film it so you will have to take my word for it.) His paint is worn and chipped (and suffered a bit in transit despite careful packing), but his full glory is easy for me to imagine and dream about.

The Big Butter and Egg Man!

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today’s toy post represents the culmination of a toy chase which came to fruition in a very satisfying way recently. This really splendid toy was first spotted by Kim and I knew I wanted him – the chase was on.

Kim was the one who introduced me to the term, the big butter and egg man which was so evocative it quickly found a place in my personal lexicon. Big spender salesman traveling and from out of town. One dictionary puts it fairly succinctly as, A prosperous dairy farmer (other wealthy rural citizen), seen as coming into the big city and ostentatiously living it up.

From a film version of the play made in 1928.

The term was coined by George S. Kaufman as the name of a play which debuted in 1925 about a rich man who came to New York with plans to liberally and exuberantly spend his money on wine, women, and song according to Wikipedia. In ’26 Percy Venable cemented the popularity of the term when he penned a jazz tune under this moniker – and which in turn became a Louis Armstrong favorite and it immediately enters the annals of jazz slang. (The Armstrong version can be heard here as of the writing of this post and is a pretty joyful rendition if you have a moment.)

Some of the lyrics are below, talking about a gold digging woman who is looking for that particular sugar daddy:

Now she wants, a butter an egg man
From way out in the west
She wants somebody, who’s workin’ all day
So she’s got money, when she wants to play

Now pretty clothes, they’ll never be mine
But what she told me the other day
I hope she don’t change her mind
Now she wants, a butter an egg man
A great big butter and egg man
From way down south

Having done some justice to the origin of the expression, let’s consider this rather grand toy. He embodies his role perfectly and has a button which declares the butter and egg man on the front and across his back. His case offers, fresh country butter contained within and he has an impossibly large and endearing duck (more on this in a moment) clutched (with white gloves) in his other hand and who offers eggs laid to order.

He sports a bright yellow plaid double-breasted suit and tie, topped off striped trousers and wingtip shoes. His mustachioed expression says it all – he’s up for trouble and he’s got cash to burn. As mentioned above, he is a product of the Marx toy company, manufactured in the 1930’s. When wound his legs move furiously, but with somewhat less forward motion.

Once I spotted it, I held out for the toy complete with box because it too is great. As you can see below, he is faithfully rendered (although he is given a hat in these pics) and makes declarations such as, He walks! and He’s a salesman! I like the top and bottom with somewhat awkwardly drawn hands displaying his wares and assuring us that he is selling, Grade A Butter. He is is leaving the farm behind and is on his traveling route which will lead him to the big city where he’ll get into all kinds of trouble no doubt.

Butter and Egg Man Box in the Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

The predecessor of this toy is a Joe Penner toy made with the exact same mold. For those or you not in the know, Penner was a slapstick comedian who had a meteoric rise from vaudeville to radio. He developed a catch phrase, Wanna buy a duck? for which he became best known. He died of a heart attack in his sleep at age 36 and was therefore saved the ultimately indignity of an inevitable career decline, which was likely where he was headed. (A quick but good sample of his work can be found on a brief Youtube clip here.)

This from Morphy’s auction, but great to really see them side-by-side!

The Penner toy has charm although it is the rare case of my preferring a later version of a toy, another blog post (devoted to Joe Penner collectibles) notes that this earlier version was released in 1934. The Joe Penner version was a part of a line of toys developed by Marx depicting famous folks of the day. (I wrote about my Chaplin one in a post that can be found here.)

The notable difference between the Penner version and mine is that the earlier one sported a hat which bounced along in a jolly way as he walked and Joe also smokes a cigar. As noted above, the duck remained (his duck named Goo Goo) and so my butter and egg man appears to be selling duck eggs.

While the motion of the hat and the addition of the cigar are great, I prefer the Butter and Egg Man version. This Joe Penner version is not in the Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Over time the ever resourceful Marx company form morphs slightly to accommodate the likes of others such as this Popeye toy below. The major adjustment is the lost of the duck replaced by cases on both sides.

Popeye is not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

Our fellow winds up admirably and we took him for a few runs, one of which is shown below featuring our laundry bag and Kim helping with the action. His action is worth seeing.

The Mysteries of Felix

Pam’s Pictorama Post: After a long hectic week I take refuge in toy talk today. When I rolled out bed this morning and walked to a shelf of toys and took this fellow out Kim looked at me inquiringly and said, “Somehow you’ve never written about that particular Felix?” I have not. He arrived at a very busy time around my birthday and just the other day I thought about him, went looking for him and realized that I had unpacked him and tucked him on a shelf without serious consideration.

It probably won’t surprise Pictorama readers to discover that I have many rather compulsive collecting habits, formed and honed over years of searching for certain toys. I receive myriad notifications about auctions and notices about toy cats for sale on various sites such as Ruby Lane which is the origin of this guy. I’m sure there are people who have more refined processes and mine requires mulling through a lot of really dreadful items before occasionally there is something worth investigating. Maybe it is the only way to do it, maybe not.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

As I said, this fellow turned up on Ruby Lane whose daily listings are among the worst really, at least based on whatever search I saved there. Infuriatingly, on the rare occasion something great turns up it is generally already sold and don’t even ask me what that’s all about and why they need to tell me. Still, I give it a cursory morning glance each day. It’s like the lottery – you have to be in it to win it.

One morning in early February (while still in bed) I saw this and did a double take. He is 12 inches long (ears included) and made of a fluffy mohair which is unusual, however I have at least one other, very small and very old Felix made of a similar wool. He is, as you can see, oddly pristine making me wonder if he was somehow newly made. Yet a close look at his face pulls me in the direction of older.

This has happened to me once before, back in 2018, and I wrote about it in a post here and the toy is shown below. He is also rather pristine, but of an entirely different type. Although I thought there was also a chance he was somehow newer, he seems even less so than this fellow featured today.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

He was very (relatively anyway) inexpensive so, after I had a cup of coffee and could reason a bit, I figured it was worth taking a chance. If I ended up with a weird modern reproduction of an old Felix so be it. I purchased him and he arrived on my birthday, with some other nice items since it was my birthday, and I unpacked him and placed him on the shelf until my examination today.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

His head rotates, but his arms are not movable. Most notably his tail is just knitted wool whereas most Felix’s have a stiff tail for better tri-pod style standing. This Felix sports this brand new looking red bow, has shoe button type eyes and nose along with his stitched on Felix grin.

All Felix toys have an expression which helps define them and this one has a benignly slightly cross-eyed one, maybe not too bright but affable. He has long pointy ears, not unheard of in Felix design, but a tad less common. His most notable feature though is the fluffy mohair he is made of which hovers off him like a halo. As mentioned above and shown below, I have another very unusual one (featured in a 2014 post here) with fluffy mohair, but a very different design.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

My final analysis is that he is old, but of somewhat mysterious origin. Much like the off-model ones hand assembled on the East End of London (one of my favorite posts about that can be found here) there is a story here about the who and the how this was made which I have yet to figure out. Please send any information you may have. Meanwhile, Pictorama is on the case and will of course share any discoveries ultimately made.

Nestlé

Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s a sunny Sunday after a dreadfully rainy sleety snowy Saturday here in New York City. So I sit down to write with the sense of optimism that prevails on a sunny day after a rainy one.

Meanwhile, I have had this item in my possession for months now where it has perched on my desk, waiting to see what role it will play and what it will contain. I spotted it in a background shot of items being sold by @missmollystlantiques and she was willing to sell it to me. I especially like its glass top where the 2 cent price is posted. 2 cents!

Top view of the tin.

Pictorama readers know I cannot resist a good box. My post on a Krak-R-Jak Biscuit (also purchased from Miss Molly, the post can be found here, as I am one of those folks who still mails cards. The appeal of a box is like catnip to me – I’m equally bad about cabinets. (A post on one display case I bought a few years ago can be found here.) Things that can contain things seem like a win-win to me and I can always justify their purchase in my mind. For some reason I am convinced I always have space for them.

Snatched this up from an article about the early expansion in the popularity of chocolate after WWI.

A quick look at the Nestlé history reminded me that it is a Swiss company. Shortly after college I was working in a kitchen at the Drake Swiss Hotel in midtown and little Nestlé bars with the hotel’s logo proliferated so it shouldn’t be news really. I think it was the first time I had considered Swiss chocolate as an export. The company’s history starts with the merger of two makers of condensed milk and baby food in the 1890’s. The chocolate production and a role in the birth of milk chocolate, so says their site, follows in 1904.

Early advertising with kitties interested in the condensed milk product.

While always happy to consume it, as a child I nonetheless admit I found Nestlé a poor relation to my true heart’s desire Hershey; the hard working denizens of Pennsylvania would be glad to know I am sure. I liked the crunch (that model appeared in 1938) added to the Nestlé bars however, but they had a more delicate flavor than the robust explosion of a Hershey bar. I did go through a period of affection for Kit Kat bars, also made by them, while living in England. Again, it was the appeal of the crunch – great with a cup of tea for a pick me up in the afternoon.

This is probably pretty close to the earliest wrapper of my candy bar eating past. I will say that their Quik for making chocolate milk was my top favorite in that food category.

Frankly it has been a very long time since I have eaten either, the chocolate I am more likely to encounter these is a wider variety. Bags of Lindt, both milk and dark chocolate, have come my way as gifts recently; my mother has boxes of sugar-free chocolates at her house (surprisingly good, especially if you stick to the nut filled and caramels), the occasional organic bar from Whole Foods crosses my path. In fairness it should be noted that my diet does not allow for the unabashed eating of chocolate however, having found that eating chocolate leads to ultimately eating more chocolate, leading to more of me.

The best remaining side view of the box.

Despite my childhood loyalties, this tin tickles me. Your 2 cents could buy you a plain or almond “block” of chocolate – two sizes shown on the side of the tin, nuts making the smaller (fatter?) bar. Sadly only one of the painted sides is still in relatively good shape, jolly red and yellow paint. For some reason the magic of reaching into the glass top container and pulling out a chocolate bar is still evoked when I look at it. Perhaps that is why I have had trouble filling it with any of the mundane flotsam and jetsam of my desk. I am thinking I may take it to mom’s house in New Jersey where I am still constructing a home office for the days I am there. The accumulating pens and post-its may take up residence there, but the images on the tin tickling a desire for a treat.

Bendy Felix

Pam’s Pictorama Post: This little fellow showed up recently in a package for me along with two other cat contributions as a gift from our friend cartoon artist and Zorro enthusiast Pete Poplaski. Pete stopped by to see us recently, one of the first of our traveling friends to return to visiting the beaten path here at Deitch Studio in New York City, as he makes his way on regular stops triangulating between France, Wisconsin and other locations along the Eastern seaboard. (A nice brief bio of Pete by Robert Crumb can be found here.)

Seeing him made us feel like the world was that much closer, if not exactly to our past lives, at least a version of the new world that included seeing friends again.

One of Pete’s dashing Self-Portraits as Zorro.

Pete is wonderfully comfortable to have around. He is not the sort of person I need to pick up around the apartment for and he and Kim happily and readily settle into picking up long conversations about everything from the film locations that a certain early Western was shot in, to art and philosophy. Pete and Kim have a book and film exchange that extends over the periods between Pete’s visits, but occasionally result in packages exchanged back and forth.

Photo of the girlfriend to this cat I found online, but with no information.

On his most recent visit Pete gave me a heads up that he had some cats for me (yea!) and the package showed up several weeks later. Of the three cats it contained this was the one I found the most intriguing.

For all of my toy cat searching I have not come across him previously. He reminds me very much of the Cab Calloway ghost character in the Betty Boop and Koko the Clown cartoon which features Cab singing St. James Infirmary Blues. I imagine that at one time he could be bent into various poses, but those days of pliability are gone. His back is stamped Made in China. While he certainly isn’t a straightforward Felix I would think he could be called Felix influenced.

Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

He reminds me of a litany of toys that passed through my hands as a small child. These toys are a kissing cousin to the articulated cat above, a purchase awhile back in a large haul from my friends at Curiosities Antiques down in Texas. (I have written about them before and one of those posts can be found here and their website here.)

They have put together several cat packages for me and this fellow was in one buy. Like Pete’s gift, I am afraid to ask his aging joins to do any of the tricks my childhood self would have asked of them. However both bring back memories of long hours of contented play as a small child. Lost in a toy world of my own making and one I continue to celebrate here at Pictorama.

Another Elephant Box

Pam’s Pictorama Post: A number of years ago I wrote about a small wooden box I keep on my desk at my office which Kim made, long before he knew me, and gave to his mother. When closing up her apartment it was one of the items that found its way back to us and Kim gave it to me. I treasure it and keep a few special items in it. I have written about the box (here) and the items housed there (here).

This box is one of the items that remains in my midtown office which has not migrated back to my desk here at the apartment. It keeps me company there when I make my occasional work visits to Columbus Circle.

Wooden box decorated by Kim. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Unexpectedly I recently had the chance to purchase an elephant box for Kim in turn, just before Valentine’s Day this year. A few months back I had added a new vendor to my Instagram feed (@lucyameliaeastwood) and a steady stream of bits of early 20th century British detritus in the form of Bakelite bits, jewelry, shoes and dresses from the 1940’s, now washes over me more or less daily. The jewelry is of the sort that I would routinely purchase if the shop was down the street and visited periodically (think cheerful glass bead necklaces, clip on and screw back costume earrings aplenty), but for the first several months I didn’t see anything which merited me ordering it from Great Britain.

Butterfly pin.

Then this wonderful elephant box appeared and it caught my eye immediately. Still, to order such a relatively small item to be shipped all the way from England, to be packed and shipped seemed like a lot to ask of the seller. As I weighed it, the rather splendid celluloid butterfly (above) also showed up and those combined did indeed seem like a reasonable request. (I have written about the strange interest in insect jewelry which has overtaken me during this long pandemic Instagram season. That post can be found here. The British seemed to make a lot of jewelry with an insect theme in the dawning decades of the 20th century – the war torn years. I wonder if there is a correlation with that and also with their appeal to me at this pandemic time?)

Found elephant toy repainted by Kim. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Readers of Pictorama know that the fragility of celluloid generally worries me despite the attraction of its ephemeral beauty. I fret that the rough and tumble of life here at Deitch Studio (there are cats! it is small and crowded!) does not seem like a safe landing for fragile items, but we make occasional exceptions. (I wrote about my fear of fragile celluloid purchases in a post here.)

However this little fellow made the perfect Valentine gift for Kim. We think he is rather splendid in his early plastic, ivory-like appeal, his trunk up for good luck and prosperity. I wonder what it held originally, if anything, or if just produced for the likes of us looking to fill it with something.

Carved wooden elephant gracing our shelf which belonged to Kim’s mom as well.

Elephants are a bit of a theme or subculture here at Deitch Studio and Pictorama. A rather splendid metal toy, a Kim find, resides on a shelf at the foot of our bed. Meanwhile, in his next book Kim has a great elephant story – it is sitting, inked and awaiting publication at the other end of the table I write from while he finishes the last stories for the appendix of his next book.

Metal elephant which resides at the foot of our bed!

For the moment, the elephant box is living on Kim’s desk atop some volumes which are permanent fixtures there and the butterfly pin (also very fragile and I think can only be worn in a way where it won’t encounter a jacket or an errant purse strap) is with it and may ultimately reside within. A spot in a calm spot on a shelf, one where books do not come and go too often, will be found for it, protected from the hurly burly of life here at Deitch Studio.

Celluloid cat. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

It’s a Bonzo Valentine

Pam’s Pictorama Post: I am kicking off the Valentine’s Day season of ’22 with this somewhat unusual eBay find. This rather realistic looking black and white kit holds a very correctly rendered Bonzo dog!

The cat and Bonzo aren’t quite looking at each other and sort of look like they are from different planets. It is easy to imagine that the job was handed off from one artist to the next for the work to be completed, the two never necessarily meeting. I’ve got you for My Valentine is the sole sentiment dangling from Bonzo’s foot on a heart.

I like the designs of the paw pads on Bonzo’s feet! But that and something about his paws makes me wonder if he was rendered off of one of the stuffed toys, rather than the magazine published drawings. The design is more stylized than the drawings are. Meanwhile, Bonzo is reaching up toward kitty like a babe in arms. (I own several wonderful Bonzo toys and some past posts of those can be found here, here and even one with a stuffed version of his cat friend, Ooloo also shown below, here.)

Bonzo toy from Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

Kitty is fairly traditional for a black cat Valentine if printed a bit dark here. There are a few scars on this and a bit of white something which has gotten on it over time. On the cat’s white paw which is visible, it is marked Germany. This Valentine is unmarked on the back; there is a cardboard strip that enables this to stand, if shakily, for display.

Germany was square one for Valentines as it was the heart of the printing industry for several decades. Evidently Valentines Day as we celebrate it (as a commercial fiesta of chocolate, cards and jewelry) was introduced into Germany in the 1940’s by the American GI’s stationed there, although the printing of Valentines in Germany pre-dates WWII. Interrupted by the war it rebounds as a printing empire after and continues to reign on this front for awhile beyond. Being identified as German made carried a negative connotation after the war however and somewhat dampened enthusiasm for their Valentines.

Ooloo, Bonzo’s little known cat friend. Toy in Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

A Valentine history site informs me that the simple identification of Germany dates this card to before the 1930’s. It is not in the class of elaborate German Valentines however, which can be very three dimensional, large and made of heavy cardboard.

Studdy drawn Bonzo Valentine, not in Pictorama collection.

Meanwhile, Bonzo is no stranger to Valentine’s Day and a quick search turns up a number of variations available in addition to this one, numerous ones drawn by Studdy, but also many broad “tributes” we might say. We’ll see if some others make their way to the Pictorama collection in the future. I have a real soft spot for the stuffed toys so Bonzo fans keep an eye on Pams-Pictorama.com.

Drink and Enjoy Kenny’s!

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Those of us on the East coast are enjoying a massive snow storm, perhaps even blizzard, this last Saturday in January. If you read last week’s post about the January-ness of this particular year (it can be found here if you missed it) you know that my attitude toward this month in general is to usher it out the door as expeditiously as possible. Still, it is January in New York and it is a time to expect some snow and here it is. Meanwhile, there is almost always snow on the ground for my birthday in February, and so the year opens.

I thought we could all use an especially jolly post today to help kick January out the door and this bit of kitty advertising did not disappoint in this regard when it wandered into Deitch Studio earlier this week. It is simply identified on the back with Drink and Enjoy KENNY’S Coffee and Teas.

I was surprised by how quickly I was able to locate a bit of history on Kenny’s coffee empire. Kenny liked a good premium and a handful of mostly ceramic ones are still extant. I cannot say I find the aesthetic of most of these nearly as entertaining as this wacky carload of kitties however. This card is as if Louis Wain did a stint wandering into an otherwise rather staid establishment. Kenny seemed partial to generally less colorful, more sedate and somewhat pedestrian premium. Some of the more jolly however, snatched off current sales on eBay below.

For a quick history on Kenny I got the scoop primarily from an article in the Baltimore Sun published back in 1999. Kenny was C.D. (Cornelius David) Kenny who arrived in Baltimore from Rochester in 1872. He quickly established his first coffee and tea emporium and rapidly expanded his business across several nearby states. The retail stores were shuttered in the early thirties as a result of the Depression remaining solely as a wholesale operation until it was eventually swallowed into anonymousness by one of the enormous food conglomerates.

January 2009 © Frank H. Jump

Onto the kitties. My previous posts about Victorian advertising cards (one can be found here) proved out that generally they were produced en masse with the intention of personalizing the card for a given vendor, not designed for them. So in theory this card could exist with advertising for another vendor printed on the back. For the record though, I have never seen this card before and my nascent searches for information did not turn up other examples.

Our driver kit is on the right side of this sort of Stanley Steamer-type auto, as photos confirm they actually did. He looks a bit nervous about being in charge, but I especially like the white fellow with his paw arms folded across his chest! Indeed! The two boys in the middle section appear to be have a grand time of it and look full of beans – especially the one in the yellow jacket. Faster, faster he cries!

Card as it sits flat. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

In the back of the car a cat couple canoodles while their chaperon looks nervously on. Ha! She has no bandwidth for the thrills of the ride and instead is burdened with her responsibility for fluffy white girl kitty in pink who is holding paws with her dapper boyfriend.

I think you will agree that’s a whole lot of card fun to devote to a bit of advertising which isn’t even a display featuring the company on the front. The card is ingenious in design and how it folds out into three dimensions, creating a great effect; solidly constructing which is why it remains in good shape 100 years later. Even the grill of the card is affixed in such a way as to create another layer. Just splendid!

Back of card. Sturdy despite the age and a few dinks.

While I am tempted to try to find a way of keeping this one on display it resists remaining in the unfolded position and although in very good shape is certainly a bit fragile so perhaps it needs to live tucked into the Pictorama archive.

Meanwhile, the snow continues to pour down and sweep wildly by the window of our 16th floor apartment, piling up on the sill, so I may follow the example set by Cookie and Blackie and, figuratively at least, tuck my nose under my paws and have a snooze filled day.

10:00 am view outside our window. A bit calmer than what I see now!

Scarfing

Pam’s Pictorama Post: I woke to this 12 degree morning, bright as a new penny, here in New York City this January day and had no idea what I wanted to share with you folks today. Coffee in hand, I wandered among my possessions and reached into a pile by my desk of somewhat unsorted photos and odd items that seemed to need a bit of consideration before posting. I pulled out this item which somehow Kim hadn’t even seen come into the house; given the intimate dimensions of Deitch Studio this is indeed unusual.

This scarf struck my fancy when I saw it and I bought it on a whim knowing it wasn’t not my usual side of the street. The pointy Felix-es around the boarder tickled me – I am a sucker for a pointy Felix as some Pictorama followers know – and I like the color combination.

However, when it arrived I was a tad disappointed overall. The fabric is a bit thin and the design is a bit odd – the text which appears to be an interview with Pat Sullivan, an idea I sort of like – is strangely and unevenly cut off by the center image. While I realize that once you wear it as a scarf it wouldn’t much matter it offends my sensibility as an object.

Detail of scarf, Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.

The scarf has a (rather conspicuous think) note that it is the product of Determined Productions, San Francisco worked into the boarder design and it was produced in 1989 as per (yet) another note on the boarder which give the copyright of Felix the Cat Productions, Inc. which (Google informs me) resides in nearby Hamburg, New Jersey. I guess I give it a B- grade.

There was a time when I wore a lot of scarves and my wardrobe boasted many. It helped that the Metropolitan Museum produced them and I was able to purchase them at a steep discount for myself and my family. (I had learned to tie them, after a fashion at least, during my college year living in London, brighting a small number of outfits with bright scarves of different colors and prints. Nothing fancy but a method or two that work for me anyway.) The offices at the Met were often cold and a scarf made practical sense – many people had the same idea and in winter would find us all wrapped in them and wool shawls from the store there as well.

My current offices (when and if I visit them which is still rarely) are also chilly in winter, but somehow I have fallen largely out of the scarf habit although they still reside in my closet, languishing with a lot of other unused office clothes at the moment, a sort of a time capsule despite a recent clean out. (My efforts in this area and further thoughts on various aspects of the potential return to the office can be found in a post here.) I tended to layer on jackets and sweaters instead. Here, working from my perch at home, I also just ten to add a layer although this apartment and especially that corner of it, tends to be warm.

The spare room at mom’s house on the chilly morning in question.

Recently I was working from my mom’s house in New Jersey and assigned myself an unused upstairs room as my office. That room turns out to be quite chilly and as I had few items of clothing with me I did wrap myself in a big wool scarf I had with me for my afternoon of Zoom calls. Folks asked about it, never having much seen me in one and wondering where the heck I was that I was so cold. (A navy wool cardigan has been sourced as a permanent resident of the New Jersey branch of my operations, as a way of addressing this issue, but a scarf may still be required. I will be testing this out later this week anyway, but will arrive better prepared.)

The question of how daily work attire will emerge from this long hiatus of going to an office is unsure – as is the precise nature of said return. There are days when I think I should just toss everything (potentially piles of nicer trousers, tops and jackets) but the three pairs of nice jeans, two sweaters, two tops, maybe a jacket or two for “dressing up”, that are currently in rotation. They could rattle around in an otherwise empty closet with a lot of running tights and sweats. Meanwhile, a return to scarf wearing in the near term seems unlikely.