Celebrity Endorsement

You don't often see celebrity endorsement, or celebrity modeling, in menswear ads from the 19-teens. Here is a rare example of both, from a 1919 issue of The Underwear and Hosiery Review. 

What's wrong with bein' confidant?

When you're dressed in your Cooper's Bennington Spring Needle Underwear, your humble towel instantly transforms into a plush red carpet, and the locker room becomes your summer palace!

The more I look at the illustration in this ad from the May 1919 Underwear and Hosiery Review, the more amusing it gets. Check out that moody stare, the young fellow in the background is giving our hero. He probably just wishes his underwear were half as fabulous. 

According to the small type under the illustration, it was also printed in The Saturday Evening Post. 

Assurance

Yep. This gentleman has on his confidance-boosting Globe Trowserseat Union Suit, and is ready to have a serious talk with your manager, and your manager's manager, if need be. 

Gid'up!

This is just too cute! Papa the noble steed, is being a very good sport, letting the little equestrians hold on to his mane for support. This ad was printed in a 1921 issue of The Underwear & Hosiery Review.

There's No Party Like an Amtex Party

In 1921, Amtex ran a series of full-page ads, that, in my opinion, really take the cake for bizarre 1920s underwear advertising. Each ad features a photograph, that by itself, borders on the inexplicable. However, when all the ads are viewed together, I begin to get the strong impression that they could be a record of one very wild and memorable slumber party, thrown by a very eccentric assortment of freinds and relations. 

Here is a tour of the slumber party: 

In the living room, Joe finds himself playing, what he fears are the dual roles of peace-maker and babysitter. No one batted an eye, when, after dinner, Sal produced his new fishing tackle and began to cast wildly about the room. However, when one wayward cast hooked Phil's slipper, and Sal, refusing to give up his prize, danced off merrily with it, Joe was recruited to get it back again. Caught between Sal's laughing taunts, and Phil's smug assertions that Joe would "show him!," Joe begins to wish that he had joined cousin Oswald, and his less vivacious freinds, in the library. 

Everyone is suddenly startled by a hoarse shriek and a crash coming from uncle Howard's room. Billy and AJ, who just completed a course in first aid, rush heroically to the rescue! They find uncle Howard standing on a chair, mopping his brow with a handkerchief, and pointing in mute horror at a small bureau. 

"What's the matter?" ask his would be rescuers. 

"It's behind the dresser!" comes the throbbing reply.

"What's behind the dresser?"

Uncle Howard mops his face again, and whispers "A spider!"

Billy and AJ compose their features, out of respect for uncle Howard, and set to work coaxing him down from his chair. He reluctantly descends, but will not be easy until the offending spider is extracted from behind the bureau, and removed from the premises! 

Cousin Oswald, and his bookish compatriots are quietly ignoring the wild shouts and sounds of scraping furniture that emanate from uncle Howard's quarters. They are comfortably settled in the library, with cigars and chocolates, for a dramatic reading of the newspaper. 

Meanwhile, at the other end of the house, Ted, Pete, and Wilbur (who everyone calls Stretch) have gotten into uncle Fred's weapon collection, and are up to no good, kicking up the carpet and stepping all over the sofa cushions. Pete tries to look stern, and warns Stretch not to horse around with sharp objects. It's mighty hard to take him seriously, though, when he can't stop giggling.   

Poor uncle Fred, oblivious to the chaos reigning in his study, has just convinced his brother-in-law to try out a new, invigorating, fitness routine that he learned about in a promotional pamphlet for a correspondence course. Like any dignified gentleman in possession of a rec room, he had originally wished to hold his impromptu mini course there. However after peering into that useful apartment, he suddenly changed his mind and relocated to the dining room. If we take a look in the rec room, the reason for his quick departure becomes apparent.

You see, Felix, Carol, and Thaddeus, have gathered there to learn one of Felix's picturesque baton dances that he, and several of his artistic freinds, have been hoping to perform, one day, when they feel that their choreography has reached perfection. Both Thaddeus and Carol are somewhat in awe of Felix, who knows several real photographers, and has had, what he claims is his likeness, in several art galleries. 

They don't tell Felix that they can't make sense of half of what he says. Felix doesn't tell them that he's been leading all of his artistic acquaintances to believe that he's from Sicily. There is an electric light in the room, but Felix says he dances better when he "can see the moonbeams," and Thaddeus and Carol have yet to achieve anything by arguing with Felix. 

Jr. Shutterbug

What an adorable sock ad, from the pages of the June 1920 issue of The Underwear & Hosiery Review! It looks like this young fashion photographer has found a very stylishly turned out little model, to take pictures of. 

Working the Long-johns

Several articles I've found on window-dressing in 1920 and 1921 issues of The Haberdasher, included the opinion that long underwear were an inherently awkward article to display, model, or illustrate, since, as one contributor put it: they just aren't aesthetic. However, my reading also revealed a sort of consensus, that the addition of a dressing gown could increase the window-appeal of a union suit exponentially. 

The illustrator of the advertisement on the cover of The Underwear & Hosiery Review, below, seems to have taken that advice and flown with it, and the result is an explosion of plush luxury and fierce attitude.

I'm not sure who the illustrator is, but their work contains many similar elements to Rene Gruau's menswear illustrations from the mid to late 20th century. Perhaps this illustrator's work provided Gruau with a little inspiration?  Two of Gruau's pieces are below, for comparison. 

Riverboat Gamblers

Another Outing for the Knit Goods Selling Agents was reported in the September issue of The Underwear & Hosiery Review. It seems like the underwear and hosiery men enthusiastically repurposed the boat, charted for their event, transforming it into an impromptu casino!

From the two pages of snapshots, it looks like they had a grand old time! Below is the complete report: 

Swimsuit Baseball

In July of 1921, 125 knit-goods selling agents got together for an outing, strictly fun, and no business. From the delightfully gossipy report below, it sounds like apart from a couple of small hiccups, the event went swimmingly.