In 1971 National Airlines launched its "Fly Me" advertising campaign (see previous post). It featured stewardesses identifying themselves by their first names and declaring "Fly Me." The New York Times notes that this campaign won it "enormous animosity from many feminist organizations."
In 1976 National ended the "Fly Me" campaign and replaced it with the "Take me, I'm yours" campaign. From a feminist perspective, not a whole lot better.
The "Take me, I'm yours" campaign lasted only a year before National switched its tag line to "Watch Us Shine."
Judging from the deluge of etiquette and self-help books, magazine articles and advertisements that urged Americans to wash themselves with as much soap and water as possible, the 1920s should have been a fine time for soap makers. Instead, they anticipated a drop in sales. A buyer's market of goods was overwhelming and distracting the consumer. At the same time, Americans were getting less and less dirty. Paved streets and roads, the automobile and electricity all made for people who were cleaner than those who lived with dirt roads, horses, coal stoves and kerosene lamps. More efficient central heating made the wearing of heavy woollen clothes unnecessary. Thanks to more mechanized factories and labour-saving devices, workers and housewives did not get as dirty as before. What concerned soap makers most, however, was the Roaring Twenties' booming cosmetics industry. The most successful advertising campaigns for soap had promised that cleanliness would bring beauty. Unfortunately for them, lipstick, rouge and mascara produced the illusion of beauty more effectively than the most luxurious soap.
In 1927 the soap makers retaliated by founding the Cleanliness Institute, a trade organization devoted to inculcating in Americans a belief in the supreme value of hygiene. Eighty per cent of soap manufacturers supported the new organization, and the New York Times welcomed its initiative. Happy that "the slovenly folk, who have been going on the theory that they can take a bath or leave it, are to be brought to their senses," the Times saw the Institute as meeting a genuine social need. Using magazine advertisements, radio ads and "public service announcements," and a battery of classroom teaching aids, the Institute aimed at making Americans feel that there was no such thing as "clean enough."
In 1961, the French patent office granted Robert-Oropei Martino a patent for a method of placing advertisements on fish. From his patent (translated via Google Translate):
It is known that the effect of advertising is largely determined by the medium chosen for it. It is recognized that advertising carried out on a mobile medium, in particular rotating, attracts much more attention than the same advertising on a fixed medium. Similarly, advertising on a medium not previously used is more effective than that carried by the usual media. According to the present invention, a particularly effective advertisement is produced by having it carried by fish in an aquarium, pond or other...
It is obviously possible to imagine many ways of having advertising carried by fish. According to the invention, a corset is preferably used, made to the dimensions of the subject in a material that is sufficiently flexible not to hinder it, and which is closed on it by any appropriate means. Such a corset can advantageously be made of plastic and it is possible to conform it to any profile deemed desirable. Preferably, to allow the fish complete freedom to flex its body around a vertical axis, the corset itself is provided with a very small width and is extended towards the rear or towards the front by panels or strips that are entirely free from each other and on which any desired printing or design can be provided. The attached drawing, given as an example, will allow a better understanding of the invention, the characteristics that it presents and the advantages that it is likely to provide...
It is understood that many corset conformations can be imagined, in particular depending on the anatomical conditions of the fish. Instead of using a complete corset properly speaking, it would obviously be possible to arrange a half corset visible on one side only and fixed in place in any appropriate manner, or even a simple panel suitably attached to the body of the fish.
On the other hand, although it seems advantageous to present the fish in an aquarium, the invention could also be implemented with fish placed in a pond or a body of water, the important thing being simply that the fish is perfectly visible and that the corset or other support that it carries can be clearly distinguished and detailed by the spectators.
The "46 reasons" were actually one reason based on flawed science.
A 1967 study had shown that LSD could cause a two-fold increase in chromosomal breaks in cell cultures. But subsequent studies showed that the breaks were a result of the concentrations of the drug being used — and that pretty much ANY substance, in similar concentrations, would cause chromosomal breaks. In fact, there was no evidence that LSD caused significant chromosomal breaks or was a carcinogen.
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.