Madison Avenue
This terribly ironic Goodyear ad foreshadowed the drug and money laundering charges that, though never proven, served to destroy the then-sterling reputation of the above-pictured John Z. DeLorean. DeLorean, 80, died a few days ago, but his legacy lives on in the few thousand remaining DeLorean cars that his company produced in the early 1980s (including the classic used in Back to the Future). Photographed at DeLorean's sprawling farm in Bedminister, NJ, not long before the proverbial shit hit the proverbial fan, this ad ran in the New Yorker , where I found it. Incidentally, Michael J. informed us just last fall as we were driving past this very property that it was the land upon which Trump National Golf Club had been built. It turns out that DeLorean had lost it to foreclosure, and Trump was there to snap it up. WOM
Here's a classic advertisement from my rather humble collection that, in these times of political correctitude wouldn't get past the most liberal of creative directors. It's for Lee Hats, which was huge in its day with its anchor store on Fifth Avenue in NYC and a marketing budget big enough to secure the services of not one, not two, not three, but four gorgeous super models on a single page. The writing was on the wall for the Frank H. Lee Company as the fifties rocked and rolled to an end (and early baby boomers decided they wouldn't be caught dead in a fedora lest they look even remotely like their old man). The firm closed for good in 1960, but fortunately, it left us with this blatantly sexist reminder of the good old days. And, of course, we have our own memories of William J., decked out in one or the other of these classics, which he kept in the little wire hat rack in the front closet on Rosevere. It was sort of the capper to being dapper in his era, and he was an outstanding dresser.
Long defunct Dunkin' Donuts Cereal from Ralston Purina, which had a very brief run in the mid-80s, was a victim of the times. Just as health conscious Americans were turning more and more to granola and whole wheat, this decadent product hit the shelves, making absolutely no sense (except to police officers across the country, but its lifespan was so short, it never even had a chance to catch on with them). Note feeble attempt to jump on the health food bandwagon by announcing that it's a "4 Wholesome Grain Cereal With Vitamins And Minerals." You want fries with that?