Thursday, March 28, 2019

Glossy Time Capsules #7: Woman's Day - 1978 and 1983

Glossy Time Capsules #7

Woman's Day
February, 1978 (Price: 49 cents)
and September, 1983 (Price: 79 cents)

Warning: PG-13 Language

In this very special edition of Glossy Time Capsules(!), I'm going to feature not one, but two magazines! Two issues of Woman's Day, published 5 and 1/2 years apart. One is from February, 1978, and the other is from September, 1983.

How much difference can five years make, you didn't ask? Well, let's find out -- together!

The 1978 cover is on the left, below, and 1983's is on the right. (Any pictures you see side-by-side in this post will be presented in that order from now on.)


Woman's Day is not, as it might appear, a gardening magazine. It is -- or at least was back then -- your typical household magazine aimed at females, although perhaps a little more progressive (again, at the time) than, say, Family Circle. There were self-improvement articles, household tips, fashion and beauty pages, craft ideas, and oh so many ads. 

Actually, oh so many cigarette ads. 

Holy crap with the smoking. There were TWELVE cigarette ads in the 1978 issue, and NINE in the 1983 one.



The guy on the left is ridiculously sad. "Smoking. Here's what I'm doing about it: Still smoking! Thanks for coming to my TED talk."


Meanwhile, in household flooring...

1978

1983

Congoleum, Solarian, no matter the name, if you've still got those patterns in your kitchen, you will be rightfully mocked.


Ads for delicious drinks...



Sweater patterns...



Goofy Red Fashion...

1978

1983


Ethereal Perfume Ads...



Blonde little pigtailed girls enjoying their snacks...

1978

1983


Ads featuring cats...



NOT SHADY AT ALL money-raising schemes...




 Diaper Ads...



And then there are the articles...

1978's issue includes gems warning people about soda bottles and their potentially deadly carbonation...


A thing about how you should smile more...


...but only if you MEAN IT.

A parenting article about how being mad is okay but being mean is not...


The article seems perfectly reasonable... until this paragraph shows up:


In that case we can be sure that Josh, who needs love and approval as all children do, would find ways to repress his angry feelings. He probably wouldn't hit his little sister anymore, but he might become asthmatic, develop incessant bronchitis or begin having terrifying nightmares about being killed by wild animals.

Riiiiight.

*slowly backs away from Josh*


Teens of the 70s were apparently super enlightened compared to the generation before. Perhaps it was because teens of the 70s had access to Judy Blume novels, whereas their forebears did not. Yes. I'm sure that's it.



Relationships are exhausting. Let's just not.

Yay for hope, though!



In 1983, the articles were similar in type and tone...



What is this cash it in wizardry of which they speak?

There's an article about mortgages, another about a woman whose daughter almost died of a disease, and this article about whether or not women might want to own guns. 



 Statistics show that violent crimes were way more prevalent in the 70s and 80s than they are now, so I guess it makes sense why this was on womens' minds. It's good to talk about these issues. To hear both sides. To weigh pros and cons.


But we must "stress safety," says Mr. Bankston, a man who admits to almost shooting his wife AND letting a loaded gun fall into the hands of his toddler. 

Yeah. Totally the best guy to be teaching the NRA's gun safety class.

...

You guys, I've been writing this blog for over 10 years. This post, the post you are reading, is number 554. Five hundred fifty four posts. Now look to your right, and you'll see a search box. There you can search for words and phrases across every inch of my blog. Go ahead. Search for anything. You know what you won't find? The F word. 

It may seem silly to some, but I've been conscientiously avoiding it all these years. One, because in the earliest days of this blog, some of my only readers were my relatives. Two, because I work in a school and, you know, kids. Third, I just wanted this to be a family-friendly blog, I guess...  

But after all these years, I've had it. I'm doing it. Now, when you search for the F word in this blog, you will find THIS POST, and that's fine with me.

Because it's time.

So this is me. 

And I'm here to say:


FUCK
THE NRA


Thank you.



You can't fix stupid, but you can buy NEAT THINGS!! Here's what was offered in 1978...













NEAT STUFF YOU SHOULD BUY: 1983





And there were some things I just had to post that couldn't be compared across the five years, because they were in one issue and not the other. 

These include, for 1978:

Sad, sick children being offered drugs...


Techno-surrealistic cigarette ads...


Static cling shaming...


Oh, stop looking so smug, Lindsay. Neither of you looks THAT good.


 Ads for one of the greatest cereals in the world...


Whatever this is...


Nothing to see here... just the Quaker Oats guy tying a girl's skate, while a curious bunny and a milk-loving boy look on.

The obligatory Jell-O ad, but with a surprising twist...


Ideas for what to do with all that wool you've got lying around...


And instructions on how to make this thing...


Just because you can, doesn't mean you should.


And from 1983...

Ads for feminine hygiene products (strangely absent from the previous magazine)...



Garfield school supplies...


Glorious 80s furniture...


Home perms are the best...


Finally, a toy ad!


These... didn't last long, did they?


Parker Pens... Wait a minute, where have we seen Parker Pen ads before? Oh yes, in 1938! This company really loved the whole "Your child deserves every possible educational advantage, and OUR PENS CAN PROVIDE" angle.


Marshalls: Now we know where Ron and Hermione bought their matching stripey clothing.



"Large-size" fashions, fit for a model who's either My Size Barbie or is wearing a corset. BOO.



And last, but never least, CHEESE...


I hope you enjoyed that look down Woman's Day lane. I know I did. Now please excuse me while I go hunt down a box of Velveeta and pour it on top of some random other snack items.


I'm hungry, darnit.

Fuck the NRA.