August 21, 2008

Sexy Old Album Covers From My Father.

ADDED: This post is a continuation of this.


Ann Althouse said...

Yes, I know I should have had the camera closer.

Meade said...

That was fun. What a romantic guy your father was!

Question: Do those objects on the floor Jayne Mansfield is posing with belong to Hugh Hefner?

AllenS said...

When I was a kid in the late 50's, my father and I would work at one of his friends gas station on some weekends. Back in the shop there were always calendars with pictures of women in bikinis. Over top of the picture of the babe was a piece of plastic that had the bra of the bikini printed on it. If you lifted the piece of plastic up you could see her breasts. Woo hoo! Little AllenS was happy to work at the gas station.

By the way, the camera was too far away, but could you look real close at the cover of the $64,000 Jazz album and see if John McCain is in the cone of silence.

ricpic said...

I've got news for you: a nipple means a lot to people these days, too.

Alan said...

What?! Nipples were only important back then? Gosh, I guess I don't know why I liked this poster.

Mr. Dudley Ludlow said...

Oh, that cough.

What's that all about? Althouse coughs at 5:53 ?

Has Althouse ever coughed before, in a video?

Even a single cough can indicate the need for a full-scale thoracic examination.

Meade said...

It wasn't a cough, it was a sneeze. Either way, Gesundheit!

Chet said...

Sort of a mini Hillary Clinton-style coughing spell ?

One time a law professor started coughing and choking, with no let-up, right in the middle of a lecture and none of the students would lift a finger or do anything to help her.

We didn't want to risk our liability.

Ann Althouse said...

One semester, I had pneumonia, and when I finally went to the doctor, he told me it was "walking pneumonia," and that I could just keep going to work. So I taught every class -- I've never called in sick once in 24 years -- and I'd have these coughing fits, where I really couldn't stop coughing, and the students would just sit there and wait. No one ever said one word in sympathy. No one wrote one word on the evaluations complimenting me for going on, class after class, though I obviously had a problem. I guess I was supposed to count myself lucky that they didn't complain that I wasted class time coughing.

Mrs. Truhelia Troo said...

Well, if what we heard was a sneeze, what was Althouse doing on the floor anyway ?

Althouse doesn't strike me as a scrubber, and what with the normal allergans, dust mites, on an ordinary floor....

Nevermind that chipped paint, and the faded hardwood. Someone forgot to go over that paint with a roller to smooth out the bumps. And, you need to stain the hardwood, and put a finishing gloss, or shellack.

vbspurs said...

Lesbians would like this album cover featuring Pola Negri (the bisexual lover of the bisexual Rudy Valentino).

You can check out more of these 1920s albums featuring racy photos of provocatively posed actress/women here.

I especially like this album featuring the vampirish Theda Bara, in a song entitled "I've Lost You (So Why Should I Care)".


If Henry VIII had the ability to make an album cover for his Greensleeves ballad, allegedly composed for Anne Boleyn, I'm sure we would've gotten a daring 1400s photo of a woman gracing the album too.

"Wine, women and song" doesn't date to the 1950s. ;)


vbspurs said...

BTW, awesome presentation, Ann!

So that's what Episcopalians listened to back then.

ricpic said...

You should have said, "Thanks for your support," to those callous students at the end of the class.

Of course, they might simply have been too petrified to do the normal human thing and offer sympathy. Hard to tell what gives with the very young.

Ms. Wanda Weatherwax said...

This was an excellent post, with one slight flaw:

Is the filthy floor a proper showcase for precious family heirlooms ?

You need an easel with a piece of velvet fabric background.

Don't you have a bookstand that you could have placed on a table ?

Ron said...

What's that, nipples you say? Carla Simon's No Secrets is your Nipple Album Cover of choice! Gads, here's a post idea!

Paddy O said...

So that's what Episcopalians listened to back then.

Listening to the music, sipping glasses of cointreau, after liturgy on a Sunday afternoon. It was a magical era.

Ann Althouse said...

"So that's what Episcopalians listened to back then."

No, at the time, he was Presbyterian. We moved to a new neighborhood, and he became friends with the local Episcopal priest, so we started going to his church. My mother's family were Methodist by the way, including ministers, and ancestry tracing back to Cotton Mather.

Maxine Weiss said...

I was just chatting with a lawyer-friend the other day about how if you take so much as one CPR, or First-Aid, class..... you are then obligated to use it if the need ever arises.

He replied about why that's a good reason NEVER to take a CPR class!

LOL !!!

vbspurs said...

Oh, Methodists! Good people, Methodists.

They got their name at Oxford, and what better bona fides can one have than that!

Ann Althouse said...

"You should have said, "Thanks for your support," to those callous students at the end of the class. Of course, they might simply have been too petrified to do the normal human thing and offer sympathy. Hard to tell what gives with the very young."

I assume they were just being polite. All of life passes by, nothing is discussed, nothing is noticed. We die and the epitaph could read "I was just being polite."

vbspurs said...

LOL !!!

My God. Is anyone else reminded of that Peter Griffin-CPR episode in "Family Guy".

Maxine, you're out there, girl. I don't mean that in a good way.

Jeff Gee said...

You don't know who Paul Weston is? He was married to the great Jo Stafford, and every so often they would do mushrooms or something and release albums credited to "Darlene and Jonathan Edwards," the most inept lounge act ever. You can check out their breath taking versions of "Stayin' Alive" and "I Am Woman" at the 'Music for Maniacs' blog. 'Stayin' Alive' is especially mouth-dropping.

Sprezzatura said...

Next time, lay the albums on the floor and shoot from above. Those floors look like they may be quartersawn white oak floors--my personal favorite among all floor coverings, assuming that it's appropriate for the home's vintage.

And, higher resolution would help to identify what could be Ben Moores's Impervo on the trim--another favorite.

Looks to be a well finished home.

Meade said...

"...ancestry tracing back to Cotton Mather."

Damn! We're cousins! Now I really can't marry you - our babies would be born two-headed.

Our poor respective fathers in heaven - on earth haplessly buying and playing all those sexy albums, desperate to get their Methodist women to dance just a step or two and maybe show a flash of leg. Thank God they're now in a better place.

ricpic said...

Meade's comment conjured....


Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty-three
(Which was rather late for me) --
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatle's first LP.

Up to then there'd only been
A sort of bargaining,
A wrangle for the ring,
A shame that started at sixteen
And spread to everything.

Then all at once the quarrel sank:
Everyone felt the same
And every life became
A brilliant breaking of the bank,
A quite unlosable game.

So life was never better than
In nineteen sixty-three
(Though just too late for me) --
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatle's first LP.

Philip Larkin

Ruth Anne Adams said...

You must send this to James Lileks.

Meade said...

Scrolling down,
before the author's name,
I think the worst:
ricpic's topped us all this time
I'll never write such verse.

Stupe said...

How shocking can it be that law students don't care about an Instructress's trivial ailments ?

They're just there to get the degree.

Other than extracting a grade, they don't care about you as a person, and not interested in your well-being.

Nobody goes to law school to learn empathy and compassion, which isn't going to pay the rent, anyway.

Palladian said...

"Sexy Old Album Covers From My Father"... is that the sequel to Barack's old memoir?.

Ann Althouse said...

"Those floors look like they may be quartersawn white oak floors..."

See, this guy/lady knows more than Maxine.

Ann Althouse said...

Meade & Ricpic: LOL, and wow.

Palladian, absolutely.

Trooper York said...

Back from the Spa. After the pool went for a steam and a deep tissue massage.

But I was checking my tickets at the sports book and found out that the US ladies softball team lost to the Japanese. What's up with that shit. I thought the USA had the best lesbians? WTF. You mean to tell me the Jap lesbians are better than ours?

Beth, I am very dissapointed. I lost a parley on that one. Can you bring this up at the next meeting. Thank you.

rhhardin said...

There was a woman's shoe and about twenty yards away a large feather by the roadside this afternoon.

I'm not sure what it means. Possibly a feather dancer disrobed there, or a woman was eaten by an eagle.

Meade said...

Or a cougar attacked a crank carrying a chicken while riding his bicycle on the side of the road. After the... struggle... the cougar swiped the chicken, left behind a feather, and forgot her other shoe.

Trooper York said...

RH, you freak me out man.

Miss Filomena Grunyon said...

If I can't see my reflection in your floor, there's something wrong.

That hardwood looks dingy. It doesn't gleam and glow.

I bet Maxine could wax that floor to the ultimate slip & fall shiny-ness.

Hardwood requires extensive maintenance, and if you're unwilling to do that, then rip it out and put in a no-wax linoleum

Ron said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ron said...

For the regulars check this out ...

Chip Ahoy said...

Woman's shoe, large feather.

Maybe Chicken Lady exploded.

P_J said...

Yowza - Jayne is falling out of that dress.

Back in the day, you could get away with cheesecake by slapping it on an album cover.

"Honey, it's art!"

Guys have been using the "art" dodge for eons. What you'll never see at Lascaux is the nude cave paintings the guy's wife erased after he died.

chickelit said...

knock off the chicken jokes- I'm offended!

chuck b. said...

Having to listen to someone with a terrible cough is a kind of punishment, I think. My male homosexual lover's parents are here. His mother was a longtime smoker and once she starts with those wet, croaking coughs, I feel like I might vomit. Sick people should stay home, not just for their own good, but as a matter of civility.

Another good reason to quit smoking--noone will want to be around you when you're coughing up your guts every hour in your 70s.

You remind me a lot of my dad in this video, Althouse. He is a teacher like you, but art, not law, and you both have the same enthusiastic curatorial mode. He likes to point out little things too.

My mental associations with Anita Ekberg perhaps need some rehabilitation. I think it's Klaus Kinksi's biography wherein he talks about having sex with her and her hairy legs wrapped around his body made him feel like he was fucking a deer or something. Powerful imagery. Can't put it out. Of the mind.

vbspurs said...

For the regulars check this out ...


Shouldn't that be Tiara Tip though? ;)

Thanks, Ron!


Meade said...

Did I say cougar? I meant puma.

vbspurs said...

My male homosexual lover's




bleeper said...

VB - the Noone referred to is, of course, Peter Noone, of Herman's Hermits. Same vintage as some of those albums, different genre.

"I'm 'enery the eighth I am..."

Pardon me, that was not a good song to start thinking about...

KCFleming said...

The Madonna cover posted earlier hearkened back to these sort of pictures, now quaint in their sauciness.

But Madonna and the rest of music's Baader-Meinhof gang broke any taboos that kept your dad's old album covers sexy in the first place. We have since seen Madonnna feigning masturbation, her photos of sexual fetishes, and Akon grinding on a 14-year-old girl onstage.

""It has always been the job of artists to conquer territory that has been taboo," writes Norman Rosenthal in his grossly disingenuous essay, ambiguously entitled "The Blood Must Continue to Flow," which introduces the catalog. It would be difficult to formulate a less truthful, more willfully distorted summary of art history, of which a small part—and by no means the most glorious—is mistaken for the whole, that the unjustifiable may be justified.

"Artists must continue the conquest of new territory and new taboos," Rosenthal continues, in prescriptivist mood. He admits no other purpose of art: to break taboos is thus not a possible function of art but its only function. Small wonder, then, that if all art is the breaking of taboos, all breaking of taboos soon comes to be regarded as art.

Of course, he doesn't really mean what he says; but then, for intellectuals like him, words are not to express propositions or truth but to distinguish the writer socially from the common herd, too artistically unenlightened and unsophisticated to advocate the abandonment of all restraint and standards. It is unlikely, however, that even Rosenthal would find, say, a video of young hooligans raping his sister (to invoke Oscar Wilde again) to be merely the conquest of new territory and taboo. Thus, while he may not actually mean what he says, his promotion of this idea in the current exhibition will return to haunt not only him but the rest of society. For why should artists alone be permitted to break taboos? Why not the rest of us? A taboo exists only if it is a taboo for everyone: and what is broken symbolically in art will soon enough be broken in reality."

Trash, Violence, and Versace: But Is It Art?
Theodore Dalrymple

Unknown said...

"walking pneumonia"

Did you also have the boogie woogie flu?

kjbe said...

Trooper - We went 2-1 against them. Bad timing on the 1. It's why we have a best of 7 World Series.

Brian Dixon said...

I admire your connoisseurship of pinup imagery. In particular, you bring a healthy, measured sarcasm to the subject. Although I take pride in what I've done at my Playboy fan blog (sorry, no nudity), I probably take myself a bit too seriously at times. For instance, I've alluded to the sugary script of Close Encounters of the Third Kind to make a point about what all those naked women mean to me.

From firsthand experience, you know how feminists can fight over which expressions of female sexuality are appropriate. If you've seen Amadeus, please tell me whether I'm fair in my satirical treatment of some women as Salieri and Mozart.

I would love for us to work together on an interblog project, maybe some kind of discussion or debate. Besides extra publicity, I admit to the ulterior motive of greater social acceptability among intelligent bloggers. I've been so busy saying things that aren't quite permissible in decent society that I feel a need to prove I'm not a ghoul.