Nineteen Seventies Craft Book. Enough Said.

From the era of macrame, puppetry and shrunken apple heads, it’s no wonder that every craft book I find from the nineteen seventies reflects artwork that would be only be available today in the home arts wing of a museum of the grotesque. If there was such a thing. I can’t see these objects ever being considered priceless folk art on a future edition of Antiques Roadshow. But what do I know? As a child of the nineteen seventies, I had to endure this time of burlap, felt and corkboard, for crafts and home decor alike. And that was some good living! But I digress.

The book I found as my third homage to the trees of yore, is just an average craft book from the nineteen seventies. Pretty much any one would do. Through each hideous and horrifying page I turned I channeled in the spirit of a mighty oak, a whispering pine, a weeping willow – whatever it was that gave its life for this book to be published. This solemn experience made me want to weep.

And now…without further ado, may I present:

Things really hit the ground running with this book. Most of these pictures of horrifying crafts projects speak for themselves - but I’m not one to keep my thoughts to myself.

In the photo of the first craft project we see two terrifying bears sure to give nightmares to any youngster they’ve been foisted upon. Even the sweetly captioned “From Mother, With Love” seems more like a threat. Alfred Hitchcock would certainly agree, in my opinion.

Here we see a completely inappropriate and unnecessary bear stuffing. Vile and nightmare-worthy. Gratuitous? Perhaps. Otherwise, why not the arm pit? After awhile, the nightmarish photographs contained within this book sort of blur together.

A terrifying teapot perfect for any tot. Just make sure the teapots looks like demons and one of them is crying.

Here the picture discusses how much children love these hand painted china pieces, especially sick children. This is cruel beyond measure. As if the child might not be hallucinating enough from fever, add to their agony with one of these demon chalices. Probably filled with cod liver oil, if I remember correctly from my own nineteen seventies sick child experience.

Shudder….sleep well, young one! We won’t ever blink. EVER!

I don’t know how to interpret a craft project for “young swingers” from an era of “swingers.” If that is bad enough, this simply looks like a death trap. Could this even be made today? The liability! The lawyers are already on their way. Where are the seat belts? The whole project is constructed from hangman’s rope! That poor tot is even tied in a tree! Rock a bye baby, indeed. We all know how that song ended. What is wrong with these nineteen seventies people! How did any of us survive that decade?

Well, I’m completely exhausted. I’ve been horrified to the core of my being, and now sit shaking on the couch. Those poor trees, shining, bright and mighty. They did not deserve to be tattooed with these photographs forever. But they did so for the sake of art.

Mighty trees…we salute you.

FIN

I’m Blushing as I Write This…

The second book I’ll honor is from a genre I never understood. The romance genre. Here in this post, it is the historical romance genre. Granted, many people enjoy this type of reading. I tried to, but just couldn’t. Sorry if this selection offends anyone, but this is just my eulogy for a tree that gave its life for the arts.

Today I’m honoring the trees that gave their lives so the world could better know, “His at Night” by Sherry Thomas.  A Bantam Books Mass Market Original. Published in 2010. This is a work of fiction.

Good gracious, I’m blushing already! I think the plot of the story is right here. The biggest clue to a historical romance is the clothing the people are wearing (or losing!) on the front cover of the book.

“Bum pinching”? “Watering of the beer”? “Saintly patience”? “Not altogether right upstairs”? Am I putting the question marks in the right spot outside of the quotes, or should they be within the quotes? Will the questions ever end? I am dizzy with historical-hysteria, you see. A nail-biter for sure. Looks like I’ve lost some nail polish on my page-turning hand!

All I can say is “no comment here.” I think I’ve read enough.

Thank you, trees. We will always remember your shade and quiet beauty.

FIN

Here it is….the First Book I’ll Honor!

“The Secretary’s Guide to Dealing with People” by Jean Vermes, Published by Parker Publishing Company Inc., 1964, West Nyack, NY

 

I’m taking notes because EVERYTHING depends on me!

Washroom gossip and luncheon chitchat are two of my resume highlights.

Dramatic tension comes to a boiling point, then pushed over the edge by the mention of clam chowder. Too bad I have to get ready for work now. The next half a day my mind will be wondering just what the hell could be this serious.

FIN