A Simpler Time
A JC Penney catalog from 1977. It's not often blog
fodder just falls in my lap, but holy hell this was two solid inches of it,
right there for the taking. I thumbed through it quickly and found my next
dining room set, which is apparently made by adding upholstery to old
barrels:
Also, I am totally getting this for my
bathroom:
There's plenty more home furnishings where those
came from, however I'm not going to bore you with that. Instead, I'm going to
bore you with something else. The clothes.
The clothes are fantastic.
Here's how to get
your ass kicked in elementary school:
Just look at that belt. It's like a boob-job for
your pants. He probably needed help just to lift it into place. The belt loops
have to be three inches long. And way to pull them up to your armpits,
grandpa.
Here's how to get your ass kicked in
high school:
This kid looks like he's pretending to be David
Soul, who is pretending to be a cop who is pretending to be a pimp that everyone
knows is really an undercover cop. Who is pretending to be 15.
Here's how to get
your ass kicked on the golf course:
This "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to the
description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the
house. Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing
around your cell in D-block. Even
then, the only reason you should put this thing on is because the warden made
you, and as a one-piece, it's slightly more effective as a deterrent against
ass-rapery.
Here's how to get your ass kicked
pretty much anywhere:
If you look at that picture quickly, it looks like
Mr. Bob "No-pants" Saget has his hand in the other guy's pocket. In this case,
he doesn't, although you can tell just by looking at them that it's happened -
or if it hasn't happened it will. Oh yes. It will. As soon as he puts down his
matching coffee cup.
Here's how to get your ass kicked at
the beach:
He looks like he's reaching for a gun, but you know
it's probably just a bottle of suntan lotion in a holster.
How to get your
ass kicked in a meeting:
If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I
believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including
termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange
jumpsuit.
How to get your ass kicked on every
day up to and including St. Patrick's Day
Dear god in heaven, I don't believe that color
exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles
unless you're working as a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.
In
this next one, Your Search For VALUE Ends at Penneys.
As does your search for chest hair.
And this
-- Seriously. No words.
Oh wait, it turns out that there are words after all. Those words are
What. The. F*ck. I'm guessing the
snap front gives you quick access to the chest hair. The little tie must be the
pull tab.
Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching his/hers
outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was considered pretty stylish for couples
to dress alike. These couples look happy, don't they?
I am especially fond of this one, which I have
entitled "Cowboy Chachi Loves You Best."
And nothing showcases your everlasting love more
than the commitment of matching bathing suits. That, and a blonde girl with a
look on her face that says "I love the way your junk fights against that
fabric."
Then, after the lovin', you can relax in your
one-piece matching terry cloth jumpsuits:
I could go on, but I'm tired, and my eyes hurt from
this trip back in time. I think it's the colors. That said, I will leave you
with these tasteful little numbers:
Man, that's sexy.
Powered by ScribeFire.
No comments:
Post a Comment