Toy Show Finds

Just got home from one of my favorite vintage toy shows. It's an annual event that happens each January, which really seems like a lousy month for a toy show, coming as it does right after Christmas. This year I planned strategically: when my family asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I said "money for the toy show please!" Here's what I spent it on:

There were all kinds of toy treasures, including a tin litho grocery store playset made in the 1950s by Wolverine; a scarce (and creepy) Hugo, Man of 1,000 Faces from the 1970s; a two-headed Doublenik troll from 1965 along with a tiny vending machine troll; a Weinermobile whistle; a bunch of 1950s space guys; Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon newspaper comics from the 1930s-1940s; a 1960s Batman puzzle; Barbie's original convertible; and a 1950s tin wind-up robot. I'll post properly about them later, but here are some quick pics and sneak peeks.

The robot has some rust, but he also has lots of character.

1950s space guys.

A Doublenik two-headed troll from 1965,
with its gumball prize friend.

Hugo, Man of 1,000 Faces, was a bizarre toy made in the 1970s. It's essentially a creepy looking guy's torso and head, along with a package of "disguise" accessories, including false chins, fake scars and warts, various noses, glasses, an eye patch, and hair pieces. I'm guessing it was inspired by spy films, but who knows. It's weird and now rather rare.

Hugo, Man of 1,000 Faces with some of his original accessory pieces.

Barbie's convertible, made by Irwin in the 1960s, was her first car.

The two shelf units on either side of this tin litho grocery store fold inward to close up the playset. Originally it would also have had a separate counter with accessories like a scale, but these are usually missing. The center span features great imagery of a 1950s supermarket.

The iconic weenie whistle.

The 1930s Buck Rogers newspaper comic above is complete, while the Flash Gordon strips below are only portions (but they feature a fantastic alien giant squiddy monster) :

These two mechanical bears were made in Japan in the 1950s. When wound, the bear on the left turns the pages of his book, while the one on the right wipes his glasses before holding them up to his eyes.

Vintage Snowmen

From my collection of vintage Christmas, these two little snowmen, just a couple of inches tall, are some of my favorite pieces. The smaller snowman has a peel off sticky label on the back: he was meant to be attached to a package as decoration. The larger snowman is made of mica-covered cardboard with a spun cotton head, and carries a pipe cleaner candy cane.

Vintage Santa Claus

This tiny Santa, about 3 inches tall, has the same molded plastic face as the Christmas elves posted yesterday, and dates from the same time period. I believe those are supposed to be candles he's holding.

Pine Cone Elves

These little Christmas elves sitting on pine cones were made by the millions from the 1940s-60s, and can be found today in lots of variations.  Some are singing carols, some are working on toys, some are reading books...these are two of my favorites. Made from cotton batting, chenille sticks, felt, paper, cardboard, and plastic, the elves measure about 3 1/2 inches tall.

Merry Kitschmas!

Happy December! We've come to one of my favorite times of the year: Kitschmastime! I rabidly collect vintage Christmas decorations from the 1940s-1960s, the kitschier the better. This month I'll highlight some of my favorite pieces.

These are some small ornaments and decorations that I wired onto a vintage bottle brush wreath.

 

 

A plastic snowman that looks a bit like Jimmy Durante,

along with a rather creepy elf. 



 

A super-cute cotton batting and glitter snowman,

just 2 1/2 inches high.

 

More Christmas kitsch to come this month...

Remco's Elly and Andy Baby Mouse Tree House

Jerry Griswold, Director of the National Center for the Study of Children's Literature, once wrote a wonderful book length essay about some of the pervasive qualities of childhood that recur as themes in children's stories. One of these qualities he deemed "snugness," the desire of children for a small, snug, safe place of their own, like a treehouse, a fort carved out of the shrubbery, or a hideout made under a folding table draped with a sheet. 

He noted the prevalence of places like these in children's literature, particularly the cozy homes of Mole and Badger in The Wind in the Willows, and the dollhouse in Beatrix Potter's classic The Tale of Two Bad Mice. Of such small playhouses he said, "What lies behind this miniaturization and the vision of enclosed space is a wish to make life more manageable, a wish for control."

I think his thesis on the importance of small, snug playspaces can be extended to children's toys too, as there are countless examples which reflect this longing for a space of one's own, and enable children to have control over a tiny world and its inhabitants. One of my favorite examples is the Elly and Andy Baby Mouse Tree House, made by Remco in 1967 as part of their T.V. Jones line.

The 15 inch tall tree trunk house is made of lithographed tin with plastic details including a branch swing, front steps, windows, a balcony, and even a working elevator. Inside, the little house is divided into two rooms, a bedroom and dining area. Cheerful colors make the interior cozy and appealing.

 

The tree trunk is home to 3 inch tall rodent siblings, Elly and Andy Mouse:

 

The furnishings include a hutch and dresser with a pull out drawer, an adorable mushroom table with tree stump chairs, and even a piece of cheese. The chairs have little notches cut out in the back to accomodate the mouse tails, a thoughtful touch.



Upstairs are two cozy loft beds, leading the way to an inviting balcony.
 

 

If recent sale prices for this toy are any indication (I've seen a MIB example sell for $350) the now grown-up children who played with this 40+ years ago are still longing for the sense of snugness, safety, and control over life which it provided. There's no stress in the tree house, just cheese snacks, swing sets, and cozy naps. It's a good life for these little mice. 

I Know Halloween Is Over, But....

I found these two fabulous jack o' lanterns at an antique show yesterday, and I just couldn't wait all the way until next October to post them.

The one on the left is German, made in the 1920s from a pressed and folded cardboard similar to thin papier mache. His yellow face (meant to represent glowing candlelight?) is unusual, and adds a creepy quality. His jollier friend on the right was made in the United States in the 1950s of a pulp material. They both have their original paper faces and wire handles, and the taller lantern is just under 6 inches tall.

Halloween Fortune Telling Cake Charm Set

These fortune telling charms were typically hidden in slices of cake at parties and were a favorite Victorian holiday custom; this set is circa the 1940s. If the recipient managed to not swallow the charm, they could look up its fortune on the enclosed sheet. The thimble meant you'd be an old maid, the button indicated a bachelor was looking for you, and the baby predicted...well, babies.

 

These charms look like they've seen a lot of cakes.

Pumpkin Candy Container

Here's a jolly looking jack o' lantern, a candy container made in West Germany around the late 1950s. Just 4 1/2 inches tall, he's made of molded cardboard and opens at the center, providing a space for small candies.



The candies are long gone, but here's where they were.

Candy containers of this type were exported from Germany for over 100 years, and they were made for many holidays, including Christmas and Easter. There are collectors who specialize in candy containers, and entire guidebooks are devoted to them. They're a fun collectible, although their fragile and disposable nature makes them a challenge to find today.



Vintage Halloween Jack o' Lantern

Here's another vintage Halloween jack o' lantern from my collection. This one was made in the United States in the early 1940s, and is of a pulp/composition material. 6 inches tall, it still has its original paper face insert, and was clearly used: there is melted candle wax and sooty residue inside. Its amazing that these fragile lanterns still survive to enchant us today!

Vintage Gumball Machine Charms & Toys

Ooooh, look what I just found: a huge bag of vintage gumball machine prizes, still in their capsules! I lost count at 90 something. Here are a few of my favorite pieces. They all date circa the 1960s - early 1970s, and measure a mere 1 inch tall or less.

First up is this great and rare movable charm: a tiny church that is hinged and opens to reveal itty bitty people inside:

The detail that went into this tiny item, which likely sold for a nickel, is amazing, and the survival of such a small and fragile item over so many years is even more remarkable.

Next, a fun piece: a charm that's a play on words, featuring a "hot dog" (dachshund) on a bun:

Keeping with the dog theme, the little Scotty below is actually from my own childhood. He originally had a charm loop on his back, but I remember I broke it off because I thought it looked strange. The grown up toy collector in me wishes I could go back and stop my 7 year old self before I did such damage, but at least I still have him. He and his cheesy companion are also movable prizes: the dog's tongue sticks out when you push his tail down, while a mouse slides out of the cheese when it is tipped forward.

A couple of long lost childhood favorites were spotted in these two capsules. The fuzzy yellow character (probably inspired by the '60s troll craze) has a safety pin glued to his back, so you could attach him wherever you liked. I remember wearing mine on a jean jacket.

The little pink blobby guy had been one of my treasured tiny toys: I can still vividly recall spotting him in the window of a grocery store vending machine, and feeding dimes into the slot until I finally got one. I kept and carried him around in a pocket for years, until he was, we believe, lost to the vacuum cleaner after being dropped. That was a tragic day indeed, but I was thrilled to find him again in this bag o' treasures.


The Smiling Pink Blobby Guy Returns!

Tiny frying pan charms were some of the most common gumball machine prizes in the '60s and '70s, but that doesn't diminish their appeal. There were two varieties: one had stickered food items and the other had molded versions. The difference is apparent in these egg pans:

The stickered varieties included the aforementioned eggs, along with bacon and fish.

On the theme of eggs, here is another movable charm. This one is a cracked egg, from which a tiny chick emerges:

Looking at the very small and easily broken parts of these toys, one is reminded of the toy safety campaigns of the late 1970s. These efforts resulted in the removal from the market of not only such items as these from vending machines and Cracker Jack boxes, but also the demise of the original Fisher Price Little People and Weebles.

This next batch of prizes reflects not only the difference between safety standards now and then, but also ideas of content appropriateness. I call these next items Gumball Prizes of the Crime Syndicate. They include a roulette wheel, a teeny tiny squirt gun, and a fully functional, 1 inch long folding knife with a metal blade (the point is blunted, but still, I think if you were determined enough, you could cause some damage with it.) They're everything the aspiring 7 year old criminal needed to start his own illegal gambling operation or enforcement racket.

This ends our tour of the giant bag 'o gumball machine prizes for now. Hope you enjoyed it!

Mr. Potato Head on the Moon

The year was 1968. The United States was in the midst of its space race, as engineers and scientists worked feverishly to send the first man to the moon. At the same time, toy designers at Hasbro worked just as feverishly to come up with new ideas for their hit toy line, Mr. Potato Head. The result was Mr. Potato Head on the Moon, a clever set in a gorgeously illustrated box that allowed children "to change fruits and vegetables into spaceships, astronauts, or moon people!"

Inside the box was a huge assortment of pieces unique to this set, including a space helmet; alien feet, antennae, fanged mouths, giant eyes, and various other appendages; and spaceship parts. This set was meant to be used with real fruits and vegetables, and did not include a plastic potato. The instructions suggested using a cucumber for the spaceship, an onion (!) for the alien, and a potato for the astronaut.

Mr. Potato Head on the Moon is now one of the rarest and most valuable of the vintage sets, and was long considered a Holy Grail of sorts for Potato collectors. In a quirky bit of cosmic coincidence, I finally found mine just a few days ago, around the time of the recent Blue Moon!

"That's one small step for potatoes, one giant leap for potato collectors."