Pam’s Pictorama Post: Luckily for me someone thought this was Felix and posted it on eBay where I snatched it up immediately. I believe this little change purse (obviously much beloved by one or several children over its lifetime) is Norokuro, the Japanese cat/dog character of early comic fame there. I have written about Norokuro a few times before when speculating on a celluloid toy (in the post found here, Norakuro, the Japanese Felix? and Pam Toy Post) and someday would love to find a stuffed toy one if such a thing exists – I have seen no evidence of that however. While searching for such a thing I did come across this photo of a larger than life one from an exhibition of his creator’s work, Suiho Tagawa, at a museum in Koto City, shown below. That guy reminds me of the giant Dean’s Mickey Mouse we have in our bedroom, but is a bit disappointing somehow. I am hoping for a more cuddly version to turn up.
Meanwhile, this worn little nubbin of a toy change purse is splendid. I am not certain, but I think his eyes moved originally and the zipper is designed so it looks like a large, toothy, grinning mouth. It is quite small – wasn’t holding much change and a bill would have to be folded some, although I confess I know nothing of Japanese currency at the time and maybe it was more adequate than I think. The inside is surprisingly untouched and new looking, the same blue as the back shown below, with a small tag that reads Chase Japan in English. He is well designed in my opinion. And, quite simply put, I would have been nuts about this as a kid, utterly delighted to own him.
I have dim memories of owning less remarkable change purses as a child. This one tugs at my memory and vague, tactile but indistinct memories of mid-sixties versions of my own rise up. I know I had a bright blue cloth change purse in the shape of an animal of some sort, but there were plastic ones too, long lost to time and evidently memory as well. Strange, when I think about it, that change purses are so interesting to children considering that money doesn’t yet have real meaning, and not to mention that during my childhood the ownership of them would have largely excluded boys. Somehow though, if you had one of these with a few coins in your pocket you felt like you had the world on a string!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I am breaking a fundamental rule of Pictorama, I am posting entirely about an object I do not (and sadly it seems, never will) own. I ran across this pinafore the other day on eBay and was fascinated by it. Kim thought I had lost my mind, and in a sense he was right. Although I have collected vintage clothing to wear, I have resisted purchasing items that I cannot wear – costumes and the like – for the simple reason that I really do not have the space to store things of this kind properly. Of all things, old textiles require some care and a bit of room for storing. I briefly considered putting it on one of the stuffed toys (I have both Felix-es and a Mickey that are more or less the size of a toddler) but Kim, rightfully, gave me a skeptical look at that suggestion. So, in the while I bid on this beauty, in the end I did not really pursue it recognizing that I am not the best steward of this item. Nonetheless, I find it so amazing that it is my desire to record and ruminate on it a bit.
It goes without saying that it was in my opinion, a profoundly lucky mite who got to sport this pinafore. Oh to boast this over my pretty dress to keep it tidy while I played! What a fashion statement for a toddler in the 1920’s in Great Britain. It is hard to tell, but Felix is embroidered. I love the red ribbon on his neck and I have no idea why he is carrying a doctor’s bag, but he is. (This was decades before a later Felix had a bag of tricks.) The scalloped bottom is particularly agreeable I think. The only thing I might have asked for is a toothy grin on Felix which I always enjoy. I assume that, like so many items from this time in Britain, that this was unlicensed, but they did an excellent job rendering it. As a matter of practicality, I believe it would have been slipped over the child’s head and tied on each side for easy access. It has a lovely little pocket to hide something special in. A clever item all around.
Having grown up in the era of indestructible Danskin clothes (I swear the tops and short sets I had in 1968 are faded, but still essentially intact somewhere in a landfill – there is one of aqua blue stripe that I remember in particular), I cannot imagine living in a time of ironed pinafores. Messy playing and painting occasionally required one of my father’s old oxford cloth shirts frayed at the collar and almost dress length when I was little. Wearing those were a habit I subsequently maintained through college and beyond for messy work. (I am wearing one in my high school yearbook photo, taken on a pottery wheel.) I’m sure tiny me would have likely balked at such an archaic addition as a pinafore in my rough and tumble life, but perhaps my someday self would have known it was mighty special.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: I am aware that we have been having a very Felix-y time at Pictorama lately (aren’t we lucky!) and to some degree that is just a reflection of buying opportunity and inclination, although admittedly we are well-documented Felix fans. I believe I own about 50 or so variations on photos of people posting with an array of Felix, and about two thirds of those are these posed photo postcards.
I have come to realize that my readership does not perhaps (inconceivable to me) value or enjoy these images as much as I do. Quite simply expressed however, it is my feeling that I should own all of them. And I never, ever tire of them nor find one that I do not consider fascinating. As I have previously opined, I envision a book devoted to these photos someday – perhaps just a self-published or a publish on demand, so at least I can admire them all in a handy way. (Although that implies a sense of completion which I am unwilling to consider.) Sadly our wall space falls well short of being able to display them all. So, while I can hear some of you tsk, tsk-ing and saying, “She’s at it again” I plunge ahead with this latest discovery. It is my intention to move on next week. (I have a beaut of a photo for movie fans.)
So, now to our photo. Darned if I can figure out what junior, posing here, has in his hands. I am going to settle on it being a ball. I can’t say that he looks especially charmed by Felix either which is too bad. Little did he know that it might be his only shot at immortality. (I say this with all due respect and as a guesstimate of course, as I have no idea who he is or might have grown into being.) The stairs and strolling folks in the background create a nice dynamic. This jaunty “adult size” sort of Felix is my favorite and the type I would want to pose with. (Yes, I have spent time considering this.) He is pleasantly enormous and a close look reveals some wild whiskers on him. Someone has written 1924 on the back of the card along with a short column of numbers that don’t make sense. Somehow it doesn’t look like it was written at the time though and 1924 seems a tad early to my thinking.
So I leave you to contemplate this one woman’s obsession – and a nod to those of you who might actually share it.
Pam’s Pictorama Toy Post: Even I wonder occasionally at the objects d’Felix that I acquire and those I pass by. I own a few variations on this celluloid fellow and I have written about my general antipathy toward celluloid. (These can be found at the aptly named Fear of Celluloid and the recent Tiny Toy Felix Fiesta.) This guy caught my eye and I scooped him up. I confess I thought he was going to be about thirty percent larger, but I liked him even more in person than in the photo.
He is marked Made in Japan on his back. Perhaps his Japanese origin in some way explains his attachment to his umbrella which he clutches in one hand (paw? does Felix have hands or paws?) while he holds the cord to the handle in the other. He has landed at my door in surprisingly good condition with only a bit of one foot missing and a few minor dents. His red paint is quite fugitive and he must have been a bit more of a dandy in his day, with red umbrella and ears – not to mention a toothy white smile we can’t quite see. He is lighter than a feather and although he is designed to stand well on his own feet, the smallest breeze would knock him over. As always I wonder how he survived child clutching and play and made his way through many decades to my door.
I do not believe that plastic as fragile as this was used in toys in my childhood. Many of the plastic toys of the mid-to-late 1960’s are probably alive and well in a landfill today. Plastic to my generation was utterly indestructible, not to mention those of my brother, almost decade later. I have a distinct memory of stepping repeatedly on brightly colored figures and objects that belonged to him as a tiny tot.
I do remember being deeply engaged with a series of plastic horses and cowboys which, if memory serves, came in clear plastic bags. These must have been purchased at a variety of five and dimes or “dry goods” stores of a type that used to be plentiful. It seems like a strange choice in retrospect, but I am sure my mom probably grabbed them as a cheap option to keep me and my sister occupied on trips to my grandparents and the like, perhaps more focused on the horses than cowboys. I don’t particularly remember Loren playing with them (or with me with them) although it seems unlikely she didn’t. And my parents may have gotten more politically correct, or they were less available by the time Edward arrived on the scene as I don’t especially remember him playing with the likes of them.
I took a genuine interest in the horse and cowboys, and while I remember that damned if I can remember what was going through my mind playing with them. If memory serves they came in variations of green, red and yellow live in memory as shown below. The yellow in particular sticks in my mind. I don’t remember Indians, although logically they were also there – I probably just lumped humans into one category and horses into another. Below are similar ones of the types. Just another mystery of childhood I think.
Period cowboys and Indian plastic toys for sale on eBay.
Pam’s Pictorama Toy Post: While this blog is aptly named Pam’s Pictorama it is never jollier here at Pictorama than the days I get to post about a new toy. As I have repeatedly reminded my ongoing readership, this apartment is small and to some degree I try to minimize acquisition so we aren’t crushed by actual mountains of objects and books (albeit really cool stuff) like the proverbial Collier Brothers. Having said that, realistically, thrilling three dimensional objects like this puppet, are added judiciously to the Pictorama collection ongoing.
This is the second puppet to join my collection. The first was featured in an early post, Handy Felix. The new puppet is larger and clearly produced by an entirely different maker, the earlier one possibly a product of the East London Toy Factory, Ltd., a post that has garnered much interest. However, like virtually every single toy I own he is without label or marking of any kind.
I have no idea of this fellow hails from Great Britain or the United States (or elsewhere I suppose). There is something about his appearance that makes me think that he was made in the United States, but it has been pointed out that occasionally I apply a certain amount of imagination to my figuring on these issues.
Unlike the other puppet, this one was not an uncontested find, but neither did I pay a really substantial amount for him. (No, really!) He fell strictly into the category of never having seen it before and better snatch it up while and if I can. As it the case with my other puppet, this fellow is well worn and much loved, his insides a bit of an aging mess which makes me reluctant to speculate on his former usability. His days of puppet shows are largely over, and he will live in comfortable retirement on my shelf, a cohort of two for now.
I do not remember having or playing with puppets as a child, nor do I remember Loren or Edward having any. If I am wrong they have not remained in my memory, which is indeed faulty as are most. This does seem strange to me in retrospect – a fellow like this would have made quite a companion for a small Pam child, toy collector to be. Perhaps the puppets of the 1960’s and early ’70’s were just not up to the job.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: This is the first of a weekend two part mini-series featuring family photos as two splendid photo postcards arrived in the mail this week. I think both are quite wonderful in many ways, but as I sit down to write it is the idea of family I am struck by – the jolly family-ness of both of them. I am launching my endeavor with this beauty of a family posing with Felix on this photo postcard, one of two I promised last week. This one’s a gem! Like most of these (Pam) treasured cards, this one was never mailed and there is nothing noted on the back, therefore names and precise location are lost to the sands of time.
Dad, Mom and tot are the family unit today and somehow our itinerant Felix photographer turns out to be a really great one and has gotten it all just right. Felix is in exactly the best position so he is (tail and all) pointing right up at the kid. The child’s face is all screwed up in a sun squint, although he’s sort of smiling too. Mom and Pop are looking on, amused and somewhat child-boastful. Junior is standing on his own two feet, perhaps a newly developed skill set for this fellow. Meanwhile, Felix is a bit like a second, only slightly smaller child and mohair covered member of the family.
I always am struck by how fully dressed folks seem to always be on the beaches in Britain during this early 20th century period. Dad is in a full suit, tie, vest and oxfords. His hat is tilted back on his head in a nice somewhat rogue-ish way. Mom is in full dress regalia with her striped white dress, stockings and shoes. (Somehow all I can think of is the amount of sand they must have had to get out of their shoes and clothes at the end of the day.) There is a towel on the back of dad’s chair and a pail for the youngster, lurking behind Felix’s tail. More suited, hat wearing and layered up adults spot the background. We will assume it wasn’t one of Britain’s warmer beach days.
Somehow our photographer has captured the three of them (four if we count Felix) in the foreground, apart from others on this crowded beach. The pleasant visual din of everyone else blurs slightly while our family is sharply in focus. In a sense, it is enough to say that this is how family’s see themselves, no matter large or small, a part of the world and yet separate and special.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: For any Pictorama devotees who are less than enchanted with my collection of photos of people posing with outsized Felix the Cat dolls, the next several weeks may present something of a challenge. So sorry! While today’s post focuses on one that I have pulled off our wall and have owned for years, I have acquired two more that are winging their way toward me even as I type. Yes, pleasantly enough, I have a small wall devoted to these and frankly I have about as many I could hang and have not yet. I could cheerfully fill a room with them.
Frankly my appetite for these photo postcards remains utterly undiminished. Even I am a bit amazed that I remain as enchanted with acquiring each new one as I was by discovering my first. My reaction is the same every time – I love it and I’m amazed and gratified that it even still exists. That’s not to say some of these aren’t better than others – I especially love the one I am sharing today – but in the end each has its own charm for me. Each person, couple or group, frozen in time, the remembrance of lovely day gone by. Everyone with a different version of an over-sized Felix.
For one thing this is a well composed photo and not every wandering picture taker who bought a huge Felix (and still I ponder – where are those dolls?) knew how to put a photo together. This photographer certainly did, although some of it was luck. I love the composition in front of these columns – the striped dress on the one woman is somehow happily repeating that pattern. The bricks provide another pattern, as do the fabrics of their clothes and hats. I like the little slice of action behind the other woman and the long look behind them of other columns giving it great depth. It is my single regret that somehow it is the tiniest bit over-exposed and the one column disappears a bit at the top. We could use the tiniest bit of line there and over the white hat.
These women are dressed in lovely spring-summer costumes for their day out. White shoes and stockings! Pretty dresses and hats! It makes me want to go out and buy a spring dress. (Honesty compels me to confess it is not a hard inclination to create – this time of the year I positively yearn for spring dresses.) They are holding this enormous, slightly tipsy, lop-sided Felix up by the arms. He looks like he’s has a decided list to one side and his arms are very long indeed. Still, he has a great Felix face and large nicely pointy ears. Unlike some of these fellows, he’s in good shape and doesn’t look as if he has been dragged over hill and dale as much as some I have seen recorded. There is a mysterious form – shadow? – in the lower right corner and if you look carefully, bits of developer down at the bottom which has left some white spots. Although this is a very nice photo, those are a reminder that these were done in haste, somewhat sloppily, unlike a studio photo.
Anyway, I offer it to you today, on what is one of Manhattan’s first truly spring-like days. Cats dozing by an open window, winter on the run at long last. A visual reminder of another perfect spring day, somewhere in Great Britain past.