Ah, lottery fantasies. This one is just a week or so late, courtesy of Lileks. Assuming (a) I’d bought a ticket for that big Powerball drawing and (b) assuming I’d won, MY fantasy was (seriously) just a little place in NYC to hang out for a while. A place something like this. The floor plans are not that easy to see, but the interior views and photos of the facilities are pretty good, as are the cityscape views. If you opt for one of the penthouses, you get a free gratis interior design consultation with Armani/Casa. Wanna see what Armani’s interior designers can whip up? Take the virtual tour here. It’s cool, no doubt.
Lileks also has another treat, if you’re so inclined (and there’s a pun there, if you follow the link). What may be the world’s largest Varga Girl, ever. A newspaper photo of a 124-foot long Varga girl serving as an ad for a WW II vintage movie, photographed in April of 1944. So VERY cool. I mean that. The entire “Acme” series is a treat if you’re into vintage newspaper photography. (I consider all these links to be work-safe, but there are tastefully done bare breasts in a couple of thumbnails, so be advised.)
Those Vargas links fired off a few long-dormant synapses in my aged, addled brain. Alberto Vargas was responsible for my earliest introduction to artistic renditions of the female form. Ol’ Alberto’s work was ubiquitous during Big Bang Two, what with simple Esquire pin-ups decorating the most modest of GI living accommodations to elaborate nose art on all sorts of combat aircraft. There were numerous examples of Vargas’ work to be found in my house as a child, but none so dramatic as the Vargas-inspired lithograph that hung above my parents’ bed. I don’t remember if the picture was an original or a copy, nor do I remember if it was an actual Varga Girl…there were many, many artists doing Vargas knock-offs in the ‘50s. At any rate, this large lithograph was probably four-feet square and featured a full-frontal view of a long and lithe blonde standing on a beach, flanked by two Afghan hounds, one on each side. The blonde wore a transparent bikini, and that was it. It was a stunning piece of work, let me tell you, and it was also the first picture that got hung every time we moved, which was often (remember, my father was career USAF: we moved a lot). The other salient fact? My mother hated that picture. But she put up with it. “Father Knows Best,” the 50s, and all that. I think my step-mother still has that picture.
We’re under a wind-advisory all day, until 1800 this evening, and we’ve cooled off a bit…what with the high only going up to 70, at most. Still no rain, but the forecast says there’s a slight possibility.
Batten down the hatches Buck, you're not in Kansas anymore!! Stop by and listen to my audio post. Maybe you'll laugh at how stupid I can be. I'm like a monkey with a gun when you give me technology. Lookout...Incoming!!!
ReplyDeleteOoh ooh (imaging me waving my hand excitedly)! Lori has the nude bikini/Afghan hounds picture hung in her home in Minneapolis. That picture was a staple of my childhood as well and displayed prominently in our livingroom. It's funny to think about it now, it was quite provocative and whenever I had friends over they would always comment on it. To me it was just a natural part of my home environment. Long live the Vargas girl!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that picture survived, Jo. The mere thought of it leaving the family makes me sad.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting that picture made its way out of the bedroom and into the living room. I don't remember seeing it in the living room, but perhaps it's because I was so used to seeing it I never gave it a second thought (or look). Check that... I ALWAYS gave that picture a second look!
Moving the pic from the BR to the LR is interesting in other respects, too. Hopefully your Mom put her foot down and said "Not in MY bedroom!" Or maybe the times had changed enough that it was suitable for display outside of the private chambers...so to speak. My earliest memory of that picture is probably from around age 8 or so, and that was in 1953. Vargas Girls were OK on the nose of WWII bombers, less so in a middle-class living room in 1953. :-)