A General Electric ad from 1940
The last dreamy new car before General Motors was forced to turn its focus away from the consumer and toward the War effort in 1941.
More innocent times. Or were they?
Don Draper is not real. I don't care about the real McCann Erickson guy who thought up the iconic Coke commercial, "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing". And I'm not interested in speculating about how Don would have fought through the corporate culture at McCann to sell his concept. The ending of the Don Draper part of the series finale was just so perfectly cynical and so in character for Don, that it deserves to stand on its own. That's how that character in this story would have pushed through his darkness and gloom to re-invent himself once more at an ashram, taking out of the EST-like group therapy "seminars" those elements he needed in order to experience the breakthrough that would propel him forward.
I kind of expect an upcoming Snuggies commercial to include a pair of purple sneakers as a bonus with each purchase.
I mean really, would anyone -- even in Kansas -- go to their kid's soccer game in a Snuggie?
So it was quite refreshing to read about an intrepid New York Times reporter's account of being out and about in Manhattan in a blue Snuggie:
"My biggest fear was that I would be treated as some kind of doomsday zealot when I donned my Snuggie in Times Square. I have longish hair and a beard, and the Snuggie, with its generous draping sleeves, can appear from the front like a clerical gown. It seemed to shout: “Repent!”
"As I stood near the TKTS booth writing this thought in my notebook, I realized that: “Hey, I’m writing in my notebook while standing up wearing a blanket. These sleeves are handy.”
"Then a woman in red stockings who was promoting the musical “Chicago” came tap-dancing over to me. “You’ve got my favorite blanket on!” she said. She had forgotten its proper name. “It’s a, um, Huggy?”
She handed me a flier for the show, which I was able to take easily because Snuggie has sleeves. I did not have anywhere to put it, however, because Snuggie does not have pockets. As I twisted to reach for the back pocket of my pants, the clingy Snuggie pulled away from my shirt and discharged a powerful bolt of static onto a sensitive area of my chest.