Vera Francis As The “Indian Girl” In The Prodigal

For those of you who love Vera Francis, here’s another vintage photograph of the nearly forgotten & neglected African-American actress.

From the 1950s, this photo features Francis in what is called “a Southeast Asian view” of costuming.

vera francis vintage MDM publicity film photo

Publicity from MGM’s 1955 film The Prodigal, in which Vera played an “Indian Girl.”

Measures 10″ x 8,” on a single weight glossy paper stock.

For sale here.

Chinese Laundry Blues

More vintage sheet music of the racist variety. (Via.)

Chinese Laundry Blues was George Formby‘s signature tune, and the first of his “Mr Wu” songs.

Now Mr. Woo was a laundry man
In a shop with an old green door
He’d iron all day, your linen away
He really makes me sore
He lost his heart to a Chinese girl
And his laundry’s all gone wrong
All day he’ll flirt and starch your shirt
And that’s why I’m singing this song

Oh! Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laundry blue
This funny feeling keeps round me ceiling
Oh won’t you throw your sweetheart over, do.
My best silk shawl, now it won’t fit my little brother
And my new Sunday shirt has got a perforated rudder
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laundry blue

Now Mr. Woo, he’s got a naughty eye that flickers
You ought to see it wobble when he’s ironing ladies blouses
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laundry blue.

Now Mr. Woo, he’s got a laundry kind of tricky,
He starched my shirts and collars
But he never touched me waistcoat
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laundry blue

(Instrumental Interlude)

Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laundry blue

Here’s George Formby singing the song, performing on stage for the last time on The Friday Show.

Before There Was Princess Jasmine…

There was this Chinese Princess costume and mask by Ben Cooper.

OK, so maybe she’s not exactly a dead-ringer for Princess Jasmine. And so what if I get more of an Indonesian-vibe than a Chinese one; we could debate such things all day. But not debatable is the fact that this princess is very fair. I also have the vintage Ben Cooper Yogi Bear costume and mask (I also have it up at auction on eBay), which is, if not the same shade, a bit darker.

Be My Racist Valentine

It’s been a few years since I did a racist Valentine’s post, so I thought it was time for another.

Vintage Black Americana Valentine, complete with watermelon and poor puns, via sienna42:

You don’t need to know that the maker of this vintage Valentine (available via Vintage-Mood-Swings) is Klinker Kraft Kard, Los Angeles (triple “k”s are always suspicious to me, especially when this card was made in 1932) to note the poor stereotypes of the “frugal” Scots who “save dates” via a Valentine with a calender:

This vintage Valentine’s Day postcard from D-L-Antiques-and-Collectibles is not only offensive to Asians, but who wants to be just another girl in a man “ports” in?

This next one from lut20 is racist for sure — but the reference to “ball and chain” has me a bit confused… It sure could be sexist, but then there are only men on the card, so…

Romantic Pillow Talk – Of A Different Sort

Remember practicing kissing and caressing your pillow when you were a teen? Well, there’s a whole movement dedicated to romancing the pillow and other two-dimensional objects in Japan.

According to Lisa Katayama in the New York Times Magazine, there’s a fraction of men in Japan who adopt body-pillow girlfriends and other “2-D” lovers as a substitute for real relationships. These men take their pillow girlfriends out on dates to restaurants, to sing karaoke, to take photo-booth pictures — positioning their stuffed girlfriends gently, “making sure to keep her upright and not to touch her private parts.”

The guru of the 2-D love movement, Toru Honda, a 40-year-old man with a boyishly round face and puppy-dog eyes, has written half a dozen books advocating the 2-D lifestyle. A few years ago, Honda, a college dropout who worked a succession of jobs at video-game companies, began to use the Internet to urge otaku to stand with pride against good-looking men and women. His site generated enough buzz to earn him a publishing contract, and in 2005 he released a book condemning what he calls “romantic capitalism.” Honda argues that romance was marketed so excessively through B-movies, soap operas and novels during Japan’s economic bubble of the ’80s that it has become a commodity and its true value has been lost; romance is so tainted with social constructs that it can be bought by only good looks and money. According to Honda, somewhere along the way, decent men like himself lost interest in the notion entirely and turned to 2-D. “Pure love is completely gone in the real world,” Honda wrote. “As long as you train your imagination, a 2-D relationship is much more passionate than a 3-D one.” Honda insists that he’s advocating not prurience but a whole new kind of romance. If, as some researchers suggest, romantic love can be broken down into electrical impulses in the brain, then why not train the mind to simulate those signals while looking at an inanimate character?

Many single people here in the US might find some of this quite reflective of the culture here; only the display of physical substitutes for romance are less accepted here.

In Japan the fetishistic love for two-dimensional characters is enough of a phenomenon to have earned its own slang word, moe, homonymous with the Japanese words for “burning” or “budding.” In an ideal moe relationship, a man frees himself from the expectations of an ordinary human relationship and expresses his passion for a chosen character, without fear of being judged or rejected.

“It’s enlightenment training,” Takuro Morinaga, one of Japan’s leading behavioral economists, told me. “It’s like becoming a Buddha.” According to Morinaga, every male otaku can be classified on a moe scale. “On one end, you have the normal guy, who has no interest in anime characters and only likes human women,” he explained. “The opposite end, of course, is the hard-core 2-D lover.” Morinaga, a self-described otaku, didn’t have much luck with women until he became a well-regarded economist. Now he has a wife and a private office in a fancy apartment building near ritzy Tokyo Bay. “I’m a 2 — I still like human women better,” he said, a wide grin forming. “But there are many men who are on the opposite side of the scale. I understand their feelings completely. These guys don’t want to push ahead in society; they just want to create their own little flower-bed world and live there peacefully.”

Aside from the large scale physical display & touching, is this any different than the romantic fantasy of soap operas, romance novels, films like Twilight, etc.? I don’t think so. Retreating to a fantasy, love doll, pillow, erotic story ,or dreaming of your own vampire lover is just as sane — or insane, I guess.

Can any be replacements for real human relationships? Can Twilght fandom, eating chocolate, or profuse shopping be as emotionally satisfying as dating? Can rapid page turning of bodice rippers, caressing of printed pillows, or vibrators be as satisfying as real human contact?

Maybe not; but as long as you can tell the difference, know reality from fantasy, they can’t hurt you as badly as divorces, break-ups and rejections either.

That said…

I am creeped-out by the Japanese penchant for underage girls. Most of the Anime characters & other pillow girls seem to be pre-teen & teenage school girls. While that’s disturbing & debatable on it’s own, I don’t find anything wrong with the idea of pillows or 2-D romance per se.

…It’s a bit sad, but no sadder than the girl who buries her nose in a succession of Harlequin romances, downs her emotions in vats of chocolate, etc.

Whatjamacallit Wednesday: Vintage Asian Themed Planter Ad

I often spot these vintage Asian themed pottery pieces in antique malls, flea markets, garage sales, etc.– I mean literally this same TV planter. (Of course, when I go to search for them online, no luck. But then, in my defense, there are plenty of words one can use to describe them.) Anyway, because I really do see them often, when I spotted this ad in a copy of The Workbasket from the 1950’s (July, 1952, if memory serves), I had to scan it and share it.

vintage-asian-tv-planter-ad

A few things to notice:

* The color “Chinese red” is not capitalized.

* The planters were sold, among other options, as decor to set on top of your TV.

* The pair of “hand painted figurines in matching or contrasting colors” were sold separately — sometimes you will find these have survived without the wooden planter and they will be sold, individually or in pairs, as shelf-sitters. (They also may have been sold independently too.) The pair of figurines were less expensive than the “etched hardwood” planter in “rich hand painted finish.”

You Can’t Judge A Racist Nun By Her Habit, Part Three (Or, The Little Chink In Sister’s Armor)

That darn Sister Patricia also owned a copy of Little Chink, one of (at least) three Musical Recitations by Helen Wing.

Little Chink is by one Mildred Merryman — who, as it turns out, is quickly becoming an obsession. More on that in a bit; first, here’s the lyrics.

Chink, Chink, Chinaman, named Chow-Chow,
Lives all alone with his dog Bow-Wow,
Sits and drinks his tea all day
Out of a tea-pot, Chinese way.
Chinese girl thinks he’s just right
She sings to him with all her might:

Little Chink Chink Chink
I think think think
You must be wise
Little Chink Chink Chink
When you wink wink wink
With your funny little beady, little eyes.
Little Chink Chink Chink, I love-a, love-a you
Lets you marry me and I’ll marry you,
Little Chink Chink Chink
What do you think-What Do you think?
I saw you wink! Little Chink.

I get that the word “Chink” lends itself to easy rhymes like “wink” and “think”, but geeze.

Now, the second verse is not printed with the actual music composition, so when I saw Sister’s penciled lyrics, I immediately thought that she herself had (as she had done with Japanese Love Song) made her own lyrics, creating the “pig-wig tail” part.

But inside the front cover, the entire lyrics are printed. Here’s the second verse:

Once came a big bear Woof! Run, run!
Poor little Chink, Chink have no gun,
But he such a brave boy, He no fail!
He shoots him down with his pig-wig tail
Chinese girl thinks he’s so smart
She sing to him with all her heart.

So while Sister is guilty of purchasing, playing & likely directing a choir of children to sing this song based on the titular ethnic slur, she is free of the sin of writing any part of it. That honor goes to Mildred Merryman…

Mildred Merryman is Mildred Plew Merryman, nee Mildred Plew Meigs. Very little is known about Mildred — something that only makes me more obsessed. I do know that she wrote a number of poems for children, so silly & full of rhyme that they naturally lend themselves to children’s songs — making each poem a potential ditty. (In some cases, a real doozy of a ditty.)

From what I can see, neither her other poems or ditties are so offensive. In fact, they are quite cute. So I continue to hunt for more and am doing some heavy research. Stay tunned for more on Mildred.

You Can’t Judge A Racist Nun By Her Habit

Normally the most interesting thing to me about vintage sheet music is the cover art; this is because I’m musically illiterate and can’t use it for anything but decoration and/or parts for altered arts (honestly, the only way I am able to carry a tune is to buy sheet music *ba dum dum* ). But this weekend I bought hundreds of sheets of vintage sheet music & some of the most fascinating ones were those that had little to no artwork at all.

All of the pieces I’m showing you today were owned by one Sister M. Patricia, O.S.B. (Order of Saint Benedict), from Sacred Heart Convent, East Grand Forks, Minnesota. (Puzzling then, that at least The Naughty Little Clock Song sheet music would come all the way from Boston! Surely there was a cheaper option in the Twin Cities?)

But anyway, Sister M. Patricia was a racist nun — and I can say that based on her musical habits.

First up, her copy of Japanese Love Song, copyright 1900, words by “Anon”, music by Clayton Thomas aka Salome Thomas Cade aka Nellie Salome Thomas, and dedicated to Madame Alberto Randegger. Only Sister has crossed-out “Japanese” and replaced it with “Chinese” —

Because apparently one Asian is as good, or as heathen, as another. Hey, I’m not calling anyone a heathen! The original lyrics read:

She was a maid of Japan
He was the son of Choo Lee
She had a comb and a fan,
And he had two chests of tea.

She wore a gown picturesque,
While he had a wonderful queue,
Her features were not statuesque,
Which matter’d but little to Choo, to Choo,
Which matter’d but little to Choo.

He smiled at her over the way,
She coquetted at him with her fan;
“I mally you,–see?” we would say
To this queer little maid of Japan.

And day after day she would pose
To attract him, her little Choo Lee,
All daintily tipp’d on her toes,
This love of a heathen Chi-nee, Chi-nee
This love of a heathen Chi-nee.

But Fate was unkind to them, quite,
For he never could reach her, you see,
Though she always was there in his sight,
And she look’d all the day on Choo Lee;

For a man mayn’t do more than he can,
Tho’ a maiden may languishing be,
When she is a maid on a fan,
And he’s on a package of tea, of tea,
And he’s on a package of tea, ah!

Her revisions also include changing lyrics in the newly created Chinese Love Song:

For continuity purposes, of course, “Japan” was changed to “Chi-nee”. And Sister is nothing if not consistent in her racism, as we’ll see in part two. (Yup, that’s a tease to come back soon.)

PS This little song was performed at a The New York Times, August 31, 1902: