Friday, June 10, 2016

Don't Stay Too Fat! and other stupid Friday things





























OK, Corpula. Now comes something even more strange. . .




Ew. I don't know what's more creepy: "toilet mask" or "face glove". To be Worn Three Times in the Week, it says. Just don't wear it in public, particularly not when banking.




Throw your truss away! Get cured for $15. Farmers and Teamsters. "Cured My Rupture Without Cutting". THESE HUNDRED MEN insist, but I can't see how this wouldn't hurt. 




The flesh brush might be one of those vibrator-thingies they used on Victorian women to cure their "hysteria". If it was me, I think it would CAUSE hysteria, or at least some sort of sexual spasm. But maybe that was the cure. The flesh brush sends out little pinpricks of electricity. This was seen as a cure for everything. I can't read the rest of the copy, unfortunately.




This is so great that I must transcribe it word-for-word (though I hate doing that!):

"JOY'S CIGARETTES afford immediate relief in cases of ASTHMA, WHEEZING, and WINTER COUGH, and a little perseverence will effect a permanent cure. Universally recommended by the most eminent physicians and medical authors. Agreeable to use, certain in their effects, and harmless in their action, they may be safely smoked by ladies and children."




This one is even creepier: "Comfort, health and fashion demand right physical proportions. You can reduce the flesh on your entire body, or any part, by wearing one of Dr. Jeanne Walter's famous rubber garments for men and women a few hours a day."




Sorta like this, I guess. You'd lose weight, all right, and keel over from dehydration.




This Smedley guy is "THE KING" of CURES, and claims to be able to cure just about anything with his famous Chillie Paste. I can't read the ingredients, which probably aren't listed anyway, but could this be ordinary chili pepper extract of some kind, something that merely brings a sort of glow to the skin?




Kind of like when you rub your meat.


POST-POST: It's nearly Saturday now, and here I sit. What is the purpose of life? Surely not to sit on your ass blogging at midnight. There HAS to be more to it than that. But I can't afford romantic vacations or thrilling international adventures. Such things will be forever out of my reach. 

I do like ads, though - have always liked them, and the older they are the better. As a sort of caboose to the last bunch of them, I found some extremely gruesome corset ads that nevertheless boast of "ease", "comfort" and "fit". 














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