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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This is a tiny post – at least in that it refers to two petit specimens that arrived in the mail recently, about 30% smaller than I had estimated. These boxes are however still so charming that I am taken with them despite not knowing what use I can put them to. They appeared on my Instagram feed (via @marsh.and.meadow) and on a whim I bought them.

Some of you readers already know I can’t resist a box. I have opined on my love of them before in posts here and here. There is something endlessly comforting about containers – those which promise to hold things, give them a place, put them away appropriately. (In all honesty, it isn’t like I actually always employ them for these rarified purposes once I have them, but it is the thought that counts.)

My original inspirations was that the larger of the two could hold the unruly pushpins on my desk in my office. The fact is that my office is such a mess these days I can’t begin to imagine how I could have focused on pushpins.

Due to construction at our main building I work in a mostly residential high rise tower about a block away. There is a hallway which houses a disparate bunch of us – my fellow fundraisers, various administrative staff, a clutch of doctors and a few data scientists who have recently joined the ranks. My office is spacious enough if remarkably blue in color – I am talking walls. (It lends a certain Smurfness to my Zoom encounters.) We only have partial walls so remarks are occasionally tossed over the wall to the pathologist on one side or the educator on the other – while we simultaneously pretend we can’t hear everyone’s conversations. My job requires a lot of talking, on the phone and with staff, so I am sorry for them as I know I have destroyed any peace and quiet.

*The undeniably jolly Rescue container. I have less stress just playing with it!*

However, the main point about my office is that it leaks terribly. Skylights that are river facing and given rain and wind coming off the river water pours into my office. The landlord does not seem able or inclined to fix it so this week I packed up the whole thing and we rearranged the cabinets and furniture so my desk is no longer under the leak. I lost about a day of work and am still not unpacked, but I have the additional advantage of being in a sunnier spot under said skylights and my weekends and evenings will be calmer not thinking about whether or not I remembered to stick a plastic kitty litter bin under the leak.

However, somehow in all of that I managed to have a moment to be annoyed that the pushpins for the bulletin board were in an ugly plastic container that tends to spill. This was my solution. And, in all fairness, the larger of the two would probably hold sufficient pushpins for daily desktop needs, even if a tad smaller than planned.

The larger of the two is emblazoned with Pastilles Halda and some related prose which roughly translates to being the best for mouth and throat irritations, larynx and bronchial affections (infections?). Pastilles, melt in your mouth sugar pills, were for various maladies having made their first appearance in France in 1825. Those appear to have been for stomach trouble.

*Surprise! Found inside the larger container.*

Both boxes are of a hard cardboard, but it is still a bit amazing that they reached down decades to us intact. I will try to be good stewards of them. The sides of each is brightly patterned making them attractive and festive which likely contributed to their longevity.

When I opened the blue one, there was this lovely tiny photo below saying hello. Thank you @marsh.and.meadow! That was a wonderful little surprise. I could do a whole post on this amazing little girl in a huge hat. More or less a one inch square she peers out from under the huge brim, a mass of curls falling behind her. Her attention has been caught looking off to the side where someone was clearly trying to induce her to smile – in the end I think they got the best photo anyway.

Meanwhile, pastilles remain with us today – cough drops and the like. They have slid toward gummies more than hard confections. I’m a fan of a good gummie (am devoted to Rescue Remedy ones that have melatonin to help me sleep), but to soothe a sore throat I like a hard, cherry Ludens myself.

This larger of these two sport eucalyptus and menthol as ingredients. It brings childhood to mind and the various types of cough drops I was plied with. There were the honey and menthol ones that were the most serious, the soft Smith Brothers ones that also came in a honey flavor and then the cherry Ludens which, although I liked them best, were probably lowest on the scale for effectiveness but the most like candy.

These days I reach for Riccola when I need a serious cough drop. They appeared late in my childhood, closer to young adulthood. I usually keep a few on hand in case a fit of coughing overcomes me or a guest in my office. I still lean toward cherry, but they are very no nonsense it doesn’t really matter.

My friends over at Bach, who make the Rescue products as mentioned above, serve up their line of stress reducing pastilles in a most charming yellow tin with a very satisfying and clever pop top. It is worth having one around just to play with the tin. Sadly the aforementioned melatonin gummies come in a very average bottle, and are in fact too large for this jolly receptacle.

The smaller box appears to have held saffron from Belgium – not medicinal at all. Saffron, which is a notoriously expensive spice, generally comes in tiny receptacles (glass mostly these days, not much bigger than a pill casing) and is of course bright orange. There is no sign of this on the interior of the box so the saffron must have been further wrapped.

Neither of the companies associated with these boxes appear to exist today, although there is a Valda rather than Halda French pastille company that seems to have a fair amount of market share. I could not find a history for it so I don’t know if these are the roots of same or not.

Perhaps once everything is once again put away at work I will share photos of the new office rearranged. I think it could use a few more photos and maybe another toy or two before it is really home away from home however.

Mourning

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: This unusual photo was a birthday gift from a good friend (thank you @eileentravell) which she gave me recently. It a large, half plate, tintype. Aside from a bent corner, some chewed up edges and that odd ding on her dress near the chair, it is in fairly good shape.

As I started spending time with the image it confused me a bit admittedly. She is in what I have to assume is mourning, her all black attire, down to her black fur muff. Her clothing best dates this to my mind is probably the 1890’s. There is some relief in the white lace ruffle and the middle to light gray of her hat, something light colored like a handkerchief peeping out of her pocket.

*Hair mourning brooch given to me by a friend. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

She looks grave and pale as she leans on the prop chair, covered in this cloth with a patterned edge. The background prop is a bit sad and cheesy as well, a view out a faux window, hangs a bit askew and folds below it. The carpet defines the space that she is atop, but that too ends at the front edge of the picture.

*Detail. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

Most interesting to me is that her cheeks have ever so slightly and delicately been pinkened by a gentle hand, which is not at all always the case in the toning of such photos. Yet, looking at her I wonder why they bothered as she is deeply in her own world of grief.

In fact, I find it interesting that such a photo was even made. Why would you want to record this period of grief in this young woman’s life? (If you look closely, she is young despite these trappings which bring a sort of middle age to mind.) I don’t know if that sort of recording of mourning was part of the intricate ways of observing the various rituals or not.

*Pams-Pictorama.com Collection. This mourning locket tells a whole story in the March of ’22 post highlighted below.*

I never realized until recently that beyond black and gray there were lighter shades of mourning and that people would progress to lavender and even light blue. I found this out recently when someone was selling a light blue enamel piece of mourning jewelry online. While it certainly predates her, Queen Victoria really kicked off the dictates of the all black mourning of the time and rigid rules of society bound the clothing jewelry and behavior of the bereaved. At least a year of wearing black and that included jewelry which was largely made of jet or black glass which was less temperamental and therefore less expensive. Much is said about the clothing, jewelry and rituals in the late 19th to early 20th century novels I have been reading.

*An example in blue enamel pulled off the internet. Ring dated 1794.*

Rings and brooches adorned with bits of hair, images and later even photographs record the attachment to the lost beloved.

After the first year a progression to gray, mauve and purple were acceptable over time and that included jewelry of amethyst and garnet stones. Pearls were allusions to the tears of the wearer which I had never heard before, but many mourning pieces are decorated with them. (I recently heard that some Asian cultures view pearls that way as well.) I have written about some mourning pieces in my own collection, most given to me but others I purchased. These wearable memorials fascinate me. Those posts can be found here, here and here. (Oddly each of these posts have appeared in late March in different years – a spring thing?)

The idea of lavender and even light blue (enamel rings and lockets) in the latter stages of mourning, probably two years or more out, interests me – the point of emerging, yet still recognizing your loss and the process. I have seen lavender clothing as well from that state, but not sure I ever saw blue associated with it. For me the light blue, that final stage perhaps, is a sign of sending you back into the world of spring and blue skies again.

Aspirational

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s a rare, I don’t own ’em but wish I did post here at Pictorama today. To the extent that I have set ground rules here, one general one is that if I feature it I own it. (Some readers will remember that I broke it recently to bring you a wonderful cat chair photo. It was a family photo which a reader shared with me and the post can be found here.)

However, to some degree rules exist to be broken and this image came to me both via Mel Birnkrant (his endlessly fascinating FB page can be found here – it is a rabbit hole to go down and possibly never emerge from) and some folks sent it to me via both the Old London FB page and also via X (that we used to call Twitter). The caption reads, Felix the Cat dolls leaving their Acton factory, 100 years ago.

Allow me to start by saying this image just floors me altogether. Admittedly, Felix lust immediately filled my soul! Oh the riches of the past! Truckloads of precious, giant Felix dolls making their way from Acton, out into the 1924 world of of extremely fortunate children and itinerant photographers.

It is also of interest to me to learn that at least one factory making these dolls was in Acton. Unlike the bit of history I uncovered previously (in a post from 2015 I very much favor and can be found here) which indicated that unemployed women were given jobs making smaller ones in a factory on the East End of London. Acton is a suburban area to the west so now I know Felix was being made all over London.

These are truly splendid huge Felix toys. Are they large enough to be the ones people posed with? Could be, but hard to say. If for kids, very luxe indeed. I certainly have photos of people posing with this size Felix although it isn’t the very largest size which I judge to be about the size of a midget. However, over time my collection has come to include period photos from British beach resorts with Felix dolls smaller than these. (A post on the one above can be found here.) None of the dolls in my collection (yet!) reach these size of the ones in the truck. Hope springs eternal however.

*An admittedly soft grab off the film, but a nice close up of the Felixes.*

While chatting with Mel and researching this earlier today, I realized that this is actually a British Pathé newsreel short. It can be seen in its entirety here. (I was unable to place the video here – I am experiencing mechanical stupidity today.) Note the unruly little fellow who looks like he wants to make a break for it by falling off the cart.

Of interest that most of these Felix toys were sensibly wrapped in brown paper, precious little parcels being piled up. However, someone must have realized that some should fill the back unpacked in order to get this wonderful image.

I think what I have here is actually a frame grab rather than a still, although hopefully stills do exist so I have a chance at one some day in the future.

*Bookplate not in Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.*

While we are having a posting moment focused on things shared but not owned, I am adding this Felix-y bookplate which came to me via J. J. Sedelmaier a few weeks ago. It would appear that Mr. Lowell and our cartoon friend shared a moniker. I assume he had these made – very pro job though. A nicely squared off, early looking Felix here. Something sort of smart about how his hand rests on the edge of the “shelf” and the lettering. Oh for the days of book ownership pride which would result in special bookplates like this!

Back to stuff I own next week!

Cathouse

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A dollhouse setting and a kitten in doll’s clothes – what’s not to like? I was speeding along my feed in Instagram when I stopped in my tracks for this one (sold by @baileighfaucz) and had to buy it. She has a beautifully curated stream of photos, virtually all for sale and I am often tempted. It is only fiscal responsibility that binds me, until I find one like this I just have to have.

There is something about the scale of the furniture in this picture which appeals to me. The kitten is too big for the space but only by a little, like a fluffy oversized giant kitty in his or her space, unable to sit in the tiny chair or at the little table. The wallpaper (wall covering?) is closer to kitty’s scale, just a little too big for the furniture. Somehow the little landscape is precisely above the cat’s head, right in the middle of the picture.

*Beau last week, very reluctantly wearing a party hat.*

There are many textures between the fabric wall covering, the blanket or towel on the floor, a little lacy tablecloth, and the cat’s dress. There is that little landscape which we can read as a painting or even think about it as a window to the outside. I like to think the thing next to it is a calendar, but I think it is another picture. The wrapped white box (is that a tiny mirror atop it?) reads as a refrigerator to me although it could be a clothing cupboard too.

Kit is right in the middle of this evenly divided picture. It is well lit, but a bit heavier from stage right or our left, casting shadows on the carpet for the chair, cat and other objects. (It is also quite overexposed drifts all the way to a white out in the lower right corner.) This kitten is a solid citizen, fluffy and gray. He or she looks barely patient with this process.

Kim has gently suggested that it isn’t nice to dress our kitties up and take pictures of them, so I mostly contain myself on the subject. Winsome and I have made a few attempts at cats in hats in New Jersey recently. There is part of me that would love to be setting them up in dioramas and taking their photos. Perhaps it was my profession in a past life – or maybe I was the cat!

The Pictorama collection does not tend to a lot of this genre of postcard (I think of them as the equivalent of the Dogville Comedies for cats, for those of you who are in the know about those) – kittens dressed up and posed in various scenes. The rather superb one of kittens in a faux balloon above was the only that I could think of off the top of my head. (That early post can be found here.)

There were several others from the same set, but while tempting none of them were quite as engaging for me and no others were purchased. While professionally made, there is a charmingly homemade quality to this one (for the record, there’s no identifying photo studio, nothing written on the back and it was never sent) and I think the photographer just happened to hit it right on the nose.

Louise Groody with a Little Bit of Felix

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pams-Pictorama.com Post: Today’s Pictorama oddball exclusive is this April, 1928 Theater Magazine page featuring stage star of the day Louise Groody. Shown here at age 21 by my calculation she grasps a perfectly delightful fluffy white pooch and a mysterious equally fluffy (if unable to achieve the same level of actual cuteness) creature in the other arm. She herself is dressed in fur. A very of-the-moment cloche hat covers her hair and shades her eyes in this carefully composed composition. A well trained smile outlined in carefully colored lips and revealing very even pearly teeth.

The bottom of the page reads, Pets, All of Them, Especially Louise Groody, the Hit in Hit the Deck. Below: After more than a year’s successful run in New York, Miss Groody, with the rest of the company, have folded their tricks at the Belasco and silently stolen away, despite the insistent demand of late-comers. They are now on tour, covering the principal cities. (Confidential: The small animal clinging to Miss Groody’s right arm is a honey bear, sweetness – and quite light.) Felix the cat is left out in the cold.

Hit the Deck was one of Groody’s most popular hits. Here she sings Sometimes I’m Happy from the show.

The little Felix is odd – no idea really why he is there, arms folded, smiling. Below him it says, Posed exclusively for THEATER MAGAZINE, photo by Harold Stein. He is indeed the little bit of Felix in this photo and post. (He does not appear on the back of the page where there is a similar of June Collyer.) Just a small paid advertisement? An inside joke about the show long forgotten? I wondered that about the dog and baby bear too – did they have some bearing on the show? Or does she always travel with a menagerie? A quick look at the storyline of the 1955 film version doesn’t show any reason for a baby bear. And no, Felix does not seem to have appeared in the show!

*Unidentified photo of a young Louise with a parrot, continuing the pet theme.*

According to Wikipedia, Louise was on the stage and discovered in her teens. Groody was in ten Broadway shows, four were major hits with hundreds of performances. The same article claims that Hit the Deck was a favorite of hers. She was perhaps best known as Nanette in No, No, Nanette and for her rendition of Tea for Two, although I was unconsciously familiar with her singing Sometimes I’m Happy.

*Kinda looks like Louise here. LooLoo was evidently one of her favorite roles.*

Louise married a few times. Number two was a shyster who chiseled money out of folks, her included – although she was originally named in the indictment. She divorced him while he was in Sing Sing and moved onto husband number three who seems to have stuck. Groody made a pile of dough in her early years on Broadway, subsequently lost most of it in the crash, but continued to work and lived affluently again by the forties. Louise joined the Red Cross during WWII and has a small discography of early recordings. As far as I can tell, she doesn’t appear to have much of a film career, although I can’t imagine she wasn’t in any films before becoming a fixture on early television.

As for Felix I can only say that he was so ubiquitous in 1928 that even a theater publication was sneaking him in, odd considering that in some ways film was slowly eating into and ultimately eclipsing their business. However, in 1928 no one seems to have been able to resist his charms entirely.

Ma Cheri Petit Josette

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Cat annoyance and dog acquiescence seems to be the theme of this card. Kit and pup are about the same size and both qualify for this nice little comfy looking house. Although kitty has laid claim from atop, this little doggy fellow guards the entrance. Feline high ground notwithstanding, the dog blocks the door – although he isn’t really as this is a set and I don’t think the cat or the dog would especially choose to curl up inside this adorable little house. In fact I am not sure either would comfortably fit, although we all know that wouldn’t stop the cat if indeed inclined.

The animals of my past have generally preferred without rather than within. For example, there was briefly a doghouse in our backyard. My dad purchased it secondhand somewhere, perhaps one of his beloved garage sales, and painted it up, making it a fair replica of our house. A neighbor with a sense of humor supplied a tv antennae. (Oh gosh, how many readers don’t even know what that is?) It very much resembled Snoopy’s doghouse in the comic strip which would have appealed to my father. He liked to read it to us as kids.

*A black cat in cat house card I entirely forgot I own, from a 2018 post called Cat House.* *Pams-Pictorama.com collection.*

A large pen of open rails and wire surrounded it and our German Shepard, Duchess, was invited within. I have no memory of Duchess in that doghouse however and she was rarely in the pen as she mostly lived in the house. Although our cats were free-range, our dogs never were and considering she was a sizable German Shepard of somewhat mercurial affections, that made sense. (Another doggy denizen of Waterman Avenue actually spent more time in it, a naughty rescue named Charley Brown – beagle mix. Perhaps the doghouse influenced my mother’s naming convention.)

The pooch in this card is wearing a leash it might be noted, although he is clearly placid. So while seated quietly enough here, he was not wandering at will. Kitty is beautiful and fluffy, very photogenic indeed. She is pissy, all annoyed ears though as only a cat can be. There is a small food or water bowl on one side of the dog and the interior of the house is alluring with some cushy looking material stuffed inside. Something is attached to the front of the little house and it is very speculative, however it may actually be the dog’s leash. The tiny abode is made of some nice wicker-y material and oddly it appears to levitate slightly – the cat’s weight on an uneven surface tipping it?

*A similar situation from a 2019 post, called Mornin’. Pams-Pictorama.com* *collection.*

The three different colors and textures help make this image work. Fluffy kit, woven house and sleek, shiny coated canine. The cat’s ears and tail do the rest – I suspect she was a pro. One can imagine a photo studio back in the dawn of the 20th century, snapping pics of posing animals all day long until enough images for a continued line of cards could be produced. I think a lovely way to spend one’s days. As I have already said, regular intervals of dog petting at work has increased my quality of life substantially in recent months.

*French readers please feel free to send a rough translation!*

I am supplying a photo of the back of the card and perhaps someone fluent in French can translate it for us. The hand is fine and even, but small and too hard for me to see clearly enough to try to get a translation. It is clearly from Papa to his daughter Josette. Someone else has included a small message in bright blue ink – Jeanette? A sister? The card is addressed to Mademoiselle Josette Cauchois, 15 rue Saint Laurent, Chantilly. It is postmarked Paris, 1914, but the date is obscured.

Not knowing Josette’s situation it is pure speculation, but I must say, I would be very pleased to have received this card from my own Papa.

Bill, Benron, Iowa

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: This fine fat furry fellow hails to us from 1910 Diagonal, Iowa. He found his way to me via the wonderfully thoughtful Sandi Outland (@curiositiesantique, an antiques emporium in Texas) who sent me this. Some of you readers might remember that Sandi sent me an utter great holiday card with a period photo on it which inspired a post found here. She is also of the fascinating angry snowman collection which inspired the purchase of a card I wrote about here.

Sandi tucked this in this nice reproduction Felix valentine, shown below. I have often thought I should have a specimen example of this card and she has saved me the trouble of doing so. Thank you again Sandi!

*This Valentine based on a popular period one of Felix.*

Bill, the cat of our card, appears to be a solid citizen of the tabby cat category. Although I have not had a personal association with a tabby since childhood, they are dependably nice cats. The two that graced my childhood were Zipper and Tigger.

I wrote a bit about how Zipper and I as a small child would watch our fish tank together and he would “pat” the fish on the glass, guilty thoughts going through is mind! (Post found here.) He came to us as a starved and tormented stray, so small he was in danger of slipping into the crack in the backseat of the car. He grew into a swaggering dominant male of the neighborhood, holding parties with his kitty cronies in the garage, late night raids on a neighbors eel box! (Zipper’s story can be found here.)

Zipper was gone by the time Tigger came into our lives. He was one of a litter of kittens of our cat Winkie, a great tortoiseshell. My mom was generally a responsible and determined neuter and spay-er of our cats, but somehow Winkie got away from her in advance of being spayed. We kept the four kittens: the tiger Tigger, a marmalade named Squash, and two grays – Ping and Pong.

Tigger who had rather perfect markings was a good natured cat. She ran away once and was found in a neighbor’s barn, but sadly eventually wandered away again not to be found. I have always hoped she found another home, perhaps less bustling and with fewer cats than we had claim to at the time. I think she wanted to be an only cat.

Bill, the fellow in this card, appears to be in charge of a store. My guess is that he spent many a contented hour chasing mice (perhaps even the occasional rat) there and was soundly rewarded for his work in this area. Still, he does not appear to have lived on mice alone. I don’t know if he is just sitting on his tail oddly or if it was docked for some reason, but he is a splendid looking fellow, evidently in his prime here. Behind him is a wonderful wooden box emblazoned with Independent Baking Co. Crackers(?), Biscuits, Etc. Davenport, Iowa. I would claim it for my collection any day offered.

The card is addressed to Miss Sarah Stock, Storm Lake Iowa, Box 734, written in the most beautiful script. It was postmarked and dated April 26, 1910 from Diagonal, Iowa.

*Back of card. Beautiful hand – look at how the “t” in storm forms the “L” in Lake! Still, is hard to read!*

Despite the beauty of the script I am having some trouble reading it, however it appears to say, Dear Sarah, I read another letter from you this morning. I spose I’ll have to answer that to I just finished one last night, let me introduce you to Bill police patrol of Benton Ia. He looks wise. I presume to you like cats as well as I do. I can’t read his name (and no, he didn’t seem fond of periods) and I am open to suggestions. (For some reason I have assigned the sender to be a man, but it could be a woman.)

Although I have come close on several occasions as it happens I have never traveled to Iowa. The university there was under brief consideration for grad school, but life intervened before it got to the visiting stage and my grad school education never materialized. The Jazz at Lincoln Center orchestra played there on tour and that was the most likely way I would have found myself there as an adult, but alas it never happened. The animal hospital I work for now is highly unlikely to send me there, although I guess you never know in life – I could make it there yet.

La Jeune France

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Rainy morning here at Deitch Studio in Manhattan. I was warned about the weather, but still managed to be disappointed when I awoke to it this morning. Sometimes rain can make me feel very cosy, but other times it is just a bit discouraging and I’m afraid I am leaning in that direction. It is early March however and here in the Northeast I guess we just have to take what we can get. It is a many cup of coffee morning as I sit here writing you all. As always though, it is a pleasant rabbit hole into the past to spend some time with one of my photos.

I don’t own many, but I do have a real affection for photos that show a store or establishment and its owner/workers and wares, especially magazines, photos (especially photo studios) or in this case postcards. They are little time capsules in a particular way.

This photo came to me via @missmollystlantiques on Instagram. In reality, a while back, she had sold me another photo in front of a photo shop and to my horror somehow sent it to the wrong person – who sadly did not send it back. She refunded me, but I was quite bereft. Then recently she sent me an offer of this photo since it was the same idea and asked if I wanted it, and here we are.

This woman (the proprietress?), stands in the door of a store called Young France. She has a sort of tunic jacket that perhaps is of the kind you might don each day in the store to keep your own dress or blouse clean. I like the bright buckles on her shoes which make me think she was probably a snappy dresser.

A look under a magnifying device reveals some small religious statues (a small Virgin Mary), medals and postcards in the large window. I think many of the postcards are vaguely religious in content too, although the top row are botanical ones. Some also look like the type of photo postcards that leave room for a bit to be written on the front, a small circle of photo at the top. I believe maybe some are photo cards that are fun – I believe I see one of a cat in a hat! There is a display of landscape photos of a souvenir type, on the doorframe next to her, hanging from a string.

There is a sort of display drawer under the window. They have locks and I cannot make out what is in them. The bottom of the window display also house some objects and other than a vague outline of a book, I cannot see what those are either however. Perhaps someone else would know immediately from the name and type of items what precisely this store was – souvenir items? In that case the religious items seem odd, but the reverse is also true.

Like many photo postcards, this one was never sent and it has no writing on the back. While the image on this card don’t really quite make the usual Pictorama qualifying parameters, it slips into the collection, filed in my mind under slice of life pictures.

A Big Kitty Family Affair

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I guess Pictorama rules are made to be broken, although there aren’t really many. Generally speaking the cardinal rule of Pictoama is that I own the object under discussion. I had barely set the parameter when I broke it back in the earliest days of this venture. (That post, devoted to some wonderful Norakuro toys can be found here.) However, since then I have pretty much stuck to my guns on that and if I have done it subsequent before today, I cannot remember when.

*From a very early, not in my collection post!*

However, I have an excellent reason for bending the rules today. An email came to me via the blog asking about what I call the giant cat chair photo postcards. I own several of these – many fewer than my photos of folks posing with Felix which seem to have started earlier (a few Felix tintype posts here and here), gone longer and reached the shores of Australia where folks posed with him in Katoomba among other resorts. (One of these posts can be found here.) I even have evidence of a giant Felix who appears to be directing traffic in Kualo Lumpur. (Here!)

*Pams-Pictorama.com collection. Felix in Kuala Lumpur.*

However, folks with the big kitty seem to have been exclusively in Great Britain. (We were simply backward here in the US, weren’t we? I haven’t seen the slightest evidence of any of the above. Nary even an early Mickey. Huh.)

Back to our story. Chay Hawes, a denizen of Great Britain wrote to say, My mum was looking through some albums and said “here’s my dad on this weird black cat thing at the seaside” (he’s the boy in the middle of the cat leaning towards his mother) so I typed “weird black cat photo margate” and amazingly your site came up as the first hit. I didn’t expect to find out about the cat so quickly! (Pictorama is always here to help with the important things. Posts about Margate and black cat goodness, including this very kitty, can be found here and here.)

Margate as a beach resort seems to have been redolent in photo ops and looking over my collection and former posts there seems to have been more than one of these giant black cats, an outsized Felix and an odd unidentified clownish character at a minimum. Black cat luck seems to also be particular to sailors so perhaps its seaside location upped the ante on black cat fortune.

*I have a bit of a weakness for these, especially as plates, but not in my collection.*

He asked if there was anything in particular affiliating black cats with Margate. There are copious postcards and bits of souvenir china which feature the felines and boast good luck. While I can find nothing which specifically ties good luck black cats to Margate, I am reminded that the Brits are well ahead of us in their affection for black kitties. I believe I have opined before on the subject of black cats representing good luck there whereas we take the very backward position that they are bad luck.

*One of many Margate lucky black cat postcards. Not in my collection.*

One particular superstition I discovered this morning is that in parts of England if a bride receives a black cat as a gift on her wedding day it is believed she will have luck in her marriage. I say let’s all move there! Happy black cats must abound. They are also thought to bring prosperity in Scotland if found on your doorstep or porch. (I’ll add that with Blackie and Beau in the family, we know we are lucky and prosperous indeed!)

*Not a great photo but here Blackie and Beau meet for the first time last summer. Recognition that they are indeed both black cats seemed to be in the air.*

I believe that Mr. Hawes’s photo is the first that I found in the wild so to speak – not being sold but a family photo, still being enjoyed by the family. It is also rare in that it is dated and noted on the back as below.

Chay says his mom is good about labeling photos and they have nice albums full as well as some wall space devoted to them. It has inspired me to do more with some of the family photos found in Jersey as I organize the house there. Mom and I went through many, but of course have found a bunch of them since she died and now no one to help me identify the folks within. (In fact, heading to NJ now.)

Few of my photo postcards of this genre have any notes and none have been mailed. I go on record by stating that I controlled myself admirably and did not beg him to sell it to me. It is a gem though!

The photographer was having a splendid day in the way he set the kids up on the chair, presumably between their parents. Mom wears a lovely fashionable outfit and an especially nice hat. Dad sports his cap and a pipe. Dad is in front of some sort of sign I am a bit curious about. The children all have a remarkable family likeness. It really is a wonderful family photo! The kitty might be a different actual one than any of the others I have as his white mouth (almost bejeweled looking!) and toes are very prominent – claw paws on this kitty. He has nice whiskers as well.

Chay also noted that his still young grandfather was shown clad in uniform a few short photos later. A sobering reminder that our family photos are snatches of time, a story told in pieces but a story nonetheless.

It gives me great pleasure to know that this photo resides with the family and enjoys status as part of family lore. Thank you so much Chay for writing in and sharing this photo!

Borzage Birthday

Posted by Pam's Pictorama

Pam’s Pictorama Post: It’s a today is my birthday post. We’ve had some other post on the day or very close – here and here. The day will be spent, as is our habit, wandering around downtown, poking into stores or flea markets – precious few of both left here in NYC though! Kim will sport me to lunch and if we are in the East Village that will be a plate of perogies or matzoh brie. If it turns out to be Chinatown (which will likely still be ringing in the Year of the Dragon so maybe not) it may be dumplings. I will give a full report next week – which will also be a Deitchian Valentine reveal – an event unequaled except by the holiday card annually!

*From last year’s birthday post! Pams-Pictorama.com collection.*

However, despite birthday prep, I do have a post for you today – this rather spectacular press photo from Lucky Star, an all-time favorite silent film directed by Frank Borzage. Kim and I found it on eBay about 10 days ago and snatched it up as a birthday gift (another one, a toy, to follow in a subsequent post – such riches) for me and I just opened it this morning. (I have written about these films at more length in posts here and here.)

In Lucky Star Charles Farrell, who is playing the main character becomes confined to a wheelchair after fighting in WWI. He is seen on the faux snowy set with Borzage. (The artifice of the snow is especially evident under the the fence in the front.) There is something about the nature of the artifice on an early Borzage set that I love – like a painting or a diorama. The snow is my favorite however and this film has about a third of it in the snow including the wonderful climax at the end. For a long time Lucky Star was not easily available but now you can (and should!) watch it on youtube here. The cottage in the background, this little bridge and pond which is seen at various seasons in the film, and the rickety fence are all Borzage perfection.

*From Lucky Star. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.*

There are some contemporaneous pencil notations on the back, but nothing of note. There is a very unfortunate modern sticker with the name of the film which concerns us as the glue may do a chemical chew through over time. One corner has a pushpin mark in the upper left corner.

Like my scant other stills from Lucky Star and another great film called Lazy Bones – the developer was sloppily applied and the result is odd bleaching and an unintentional sepia tone in the upper right corner. The lower left is the worst though, with a bit of uneven printer alignment too, a blob of chemical ooze is recorded on the lower right. (I have not watched Lazy Bones on youtube but you can try it here. It features Buck Jones in an atypical role – just darn great!)

*From the opening of Lazy Bones. Not in my collection.*

By coincidence, but perhaps also a bit of a tribute considering the purchase of the photo, last night over dinner we caught up with a later Borzage film we’d never seen via youtube as well – Until We Meet Again. (Find it here.) It would be hard to put this in the same category as the silents above, although some of Borzage’s signature aspects remain - star crossed romance, those interesting sets. Sound film, 1940. There is a rushed, low budget quality to it that works against it. Still, I was glad to see it. His films are still showing back up after years of languishing. We saw The Lady in an Italian silent film festival (via the internet) in ’22. It was good, although not really memorable. (The youtube of it is a wretched print and I cannot recommend it.)

I’m not entirely sure what it is about Borzage that speaks to me so specifically, but I will always go out of my way to see any of his work. It’s a combination of his esthetic and storytelling that speaks to some part of me deeply. Maybe I was a fan in a past life – seeing each of the silents as they came out. If you follow that logic, I will still be watching them, again and again, in a future life too. Meanwhile, it’s one of those “big” birthdays, so I will let you know what I think after I have digested it a bit.