Back in the summer of 1975, there was a brouhaha about a 24-foot-long outdoor painting of a reclining nude (aka Lady Sarah) that featured a dissolving bathing suit. It was the creation of artist William Newman. Details below from Wikipedia.
Note: the wikipedia article says that the painting was meant for the "inside of the building," but I think it should read the "inside of the construction site." The whole idea was that it was an outdoor painting created for the benefit of construction workers.
In 1975, Newman had already begun as a full-time teacher at the Corcoran School of Art. He was hired to paint a mural at the Construction site across from the Old Executive Office building, where he and twenty students created 35 - 40 magnified insects and animals and cut them out of plywood to place around the site. Since that project was a great success, Newman offered to create a painting for the inside of the building of a large nude. They accepted his proposal, so he began working. When he was finished, the painting was twenty four feet long. When the General Services Administration came to the Corcoran before it went up, they decided not to show the original piece. They refused to put the piece up, unless Newman painted a bathing suit over the woman in the mural.
"At the time I was just thinking, great, I'll paint a bathing suit on it, but that bathing suit is coming off as soon as it rains. I mixed tempera paint with that famous Corcoran bathroom soap, and I knew it would wash off right away. I told Paul Richard, the art writer at the Washington Post, about it, and he wrote a story titled "Praying for Rain." The painting came to be called Lady Sarah, named after its model."
During the first night it was up, rain fell. There was a line of about 300 people waiting to look through the peephole, in reaction to the article. Before the bathing suit could be completely washed off by the rain, the piece was taken down. Newman washed off the soap bathing suit and repainted it to become permanently present. He gave the piece to the Corcoran to raise money.
The Wilmington News Journal - Aug 15, 1975
Asbury Park Press - Aug 14, 1975
Orlando Sentinel - Aug 15, 1975
Apparently that wasn't Newman's last work featuring 'Sarah.' Two more followed, one of which again had a dissolving suit. From Washington City Paper:
Newman did two more outdoor Sarahs: Sarah Claus, at a building site at 18th Street and Pennsylvania Avenue NW, and Sarah and Strawberry Shortcake, for the Third Edition restaurant in Georgetown. The first painting featured a wash-away Santa suit, but the dry snow that winter didn't do the job. So some Corcoran students in firefighter outfits, with Newman's blessing, hosed down the mural. The second work was approved and then contested by the federal Commission of Fine Arts.
The identity of 'Lady Sarah' was eventually revealed to be Sarah Tuft, an 18-year-old model and art student. I'm not sure, but I'm guessing this must be the same Sarah Tuft who's now a playwright. Photo below of Sarah Tuft (playwright) for comparison.
This documentary has it all: great music, great interviews, great cinematography, ongoing thematic relevance to today. But we feature it on WU mainly for the clothing, both of performers and of the audience. Viewers might also empathize with the director's fascination with hotpants.
a drink made primarily of reconstituted tomato juice concentrate and seasoned beef broth, with added vitamins and iron. Nutrimato was produced beginning in 1972 by the Duffy-Mott company in California and discontinued in 1975.
Nutrimato would have been a good name for a robot. Not so much for a juice drink.
Parker [Brothers] identifies as its "wildest failure" a game called Oobi, which it trotted out in 1971. This was billed as "the new message medium." It consisted of an egg-shaped hollow container on which was printed these words:
"I contain a message to another human being. Please further my journey an inch, a foot or a mile. Add a note, if you wish. Then help me to the next nice person like yourself."
Parker was so high on Oobi that it instituted special security measures to keep competitors from stealing the idea. Development went forward under the code name, "Project O." The game was introduced on the West Coast with an artful television commercial declaring, "Oobi means love."
Sales were weak but Parker didn't believe it. Oobi was moved into the Southeast. Then Parker got the message: The public hated Oobi.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.