According to beauty experts in 1967, the women of 2017 would wake up in the morning and make themselves beautiful by applying a paste-on "Moon Maid Mask" that would "change the structure of a face from neckline to hairline."
Other 21st-century beauty enhancements would include:
Toss in the Wash Wigs: A second or two in the supersonic laundry of tomorrow and a girl will be freshly coiffed for jet going.
Instant Youth: Plastic surgery in the form of silicone or other type injections which do in a matter of minutes what now takes weeks of hospital treatment.
The instant youth prediction was fairly close to the mark.
January 1970: The White House guard (secret service uniformed division) publicly revealed their new uniforms which featured a white, double-breasted tunic with gold shoulder trim and a stiff shako hat with peaked front. They replaced the black uniforms the guards had previously worn on ceremonial occasions.
President Nixon had ordered that a new uniform be designed after he had seen what palace guards wore in other countries and had decided that the White House needed something as fancy.
However, almost no one liked the new uniforms. People made comments such as:
"they look like extras from a Lithuanian movie"
"Late Weimar Republic"
"Nazi uniforms"
"like a palace guard of toy soldiers"
"will they be goose-stepping, or what?"
"falls somewhere between early high school band and late palace guard."
"They look like old-time movie ushers."
Chicago Tribune columnist Walter Trohan complained they were a "frank borrowing from decadent European monarchies, which is abhorrent to this country’s democratic tradition."
The guards themselves complained that they felt too theatrical and that the hats were uncomfortable. So within a month the hats had disappeared. The white jackets lasted longer, but eventually they too were mothballed.
Alton Evening Telegraph - Jan 30, 1970
However, the uniforms weren't thrown out. They sat in storage for a decade, and in 1980 they were sold to the Meriden-Cleghorn High School Marching Band in Iowa.
In the 1970s, it was widely believed that any product could be improved by adding denim to it. One example of this, already featured on WU, was the AMC Gremlin "Levi" Edition — an economy car upholstered with Levi jeans. It debuted in the early 70s.
Another example is the Zenith "Sidekick" Blue Jean TV, which hit the market in 1974. From the ad copy:
Meet Zenith's 12" diagonal black-and-white portable that's decked out, top and sides, in blue denim. Accented with bright orange stitching, authentic copper rivets, and a leather-look "Sidekick" name patch like the one on your jeans.
If you'd like to own one of these beauties, there's one for sale on eBay. Current bid is only $49.99.
These shirts sold by aerochromics alert their wearers to the presence of dangerous levels of pollution by changing color. They go for $500 a shirt. There are three styles to choose from that differ in pattern and what they react to — either carbon monoxide, radiation, or "particle pollution."
So if you get the carbon monoxide or radiation-detecting shirt, how exactly do you test that it really works — without putting yourself in a life-threatening situation?
Posted By: Alex - Sun Sep 18, 2016 -
Comments (2)
Category: Fashion
Poses (pronounced poh-ZAYS) were introduced in 1949 as an alternative brassiere that attached to the chest by means of adhesive strips of something called Plastape. "Place them in position, press with a forefinger — and there you are!"
However, the product proved unpopular. Perhaps because women thought it seemed too much like gluing coffee filters to their chest.
Detroit Free Press - July 10, 1949
But when women didn't go for stick-on plastape bras, the stuff seems to have been repurposed to make venetian blinds.
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.