It's 1943...

...and I have strange feelers growing out of my head. 

A WWII 'linen' postcard--from the flight school, presumably.  Our seminar today is on antennae.

That Clinches It

Maria X

Cabinet card-size studio photograph from Lisbon.  Black laced silk (?) dress suggests widowhood.  The African presence in Portugal is palpable and heart-rending--as I immediately discovered when I made my first trip there, belatedly, a couple of years ago.   Here, just extraordinary grace--in lovely right arm and hand especially.

Vers le Bonheur

A little glossy Valentine for anyone who needs one.

Who's the Fairest of Them All

Well, here's something: ER with a group of "ballet dancers" in a photo taken by Anton Bruehl some time around 1950.  But surely these ladies aren't anorexic enough to be ballet dancers?  I wager they must be some of the gal pals ER took up with once she and the journalist Lorena Hickok had ceased, alas, to be a hot item.

In 1934, at the height of the ER/Hickok romance, Time magazine described Hickok as "a rotund lady with a husky voice, a peremptory manner, and baggy clothes."  Didn't seem to faze ER, however.  Indeed: "No matter how plain a woman may be"--or so the 14-year-old future First Lady had written in a diary (long before she met Hickok),"if truth and loyalty are stamped upon her face, all will be attracted to her."

Gargiulo's Lace House

Speaking of thugs:  sinister promo card for a lace shop in Sorrento from the late 20s or early 30s, I'm guessing.  Featuring, of course, il Duce del Fascismo himself.  The hand-lettering on the left side is attractive; but nevertheless:  basta!