No matter how hard I try...

I cannot come up with a coherent post to accompany these jarring images.

Despite the differences in their stations in life that are meant to be obvious to the early fifties white middle-class housewifely consumer, the proud, trim Mrs. A, in her stylish shirtwaist (which I'll just bet she made herself! She makes her own clothes, too, don't you know) and elegant 'do, is partnering with the humbly beaming do-ragged Aunt Jemima (no competition, style-wise, to Mrs. America - AJem's dress is made from a leftover tablecloth), to serve Mrs. A's pancake-consuming machine of a husband, "salesman" Bob Schenk.

(I guess the fact that Mr. Schenk had an occupation other than entering his wife in beauty contests needed to be pointed out.)

Mrs. A is practically dislocating her shoulder in her haste to slap that next golden stack on the table. AJem, needless to say, stands at the rear.

Even for the fifties, this is one ad that is just trying too, too hard.

It's the washer that thinks it's a dryer! No, it's the dryer that thinks it's a washer!

There are numerous ads for washers and for dryers, sold by numerous obscure manufacturers, in the early fifties Good Housekeeping magazines I've been reading lately. I had never heard of this brand (although when I Googled it I got lots of hits).

This washer/dryer combo is certainly more modern and user-friendly than the washers with wringer attachments that were still being marketed back then. Now, if it also removed the dried clothes from itself and hung them up for me, I'd be impressed.

I certainly didn't select this ad for comment for this reason, but dang, look at that little girl in her undies, waiting for her dress to dry. It should be an entirely innocent image, and no doubt it was for its day... and no doubt I've been warped by living in a subsequent era where innocence seems to exist only to be defiled. but no manufacturer would dare publish such an ad today.