Life, 1928-05-24 · page 20 of 38
Life — May 24, 1928 — page 20: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Life* magazine (1928) features a satirical column mocking the "Salon" fad—speakeasy culture during Prohibition. The writer argues that modern permissiveness has paradoxically made conversation *boring*: divorce, smoking, makeup, profanity, and even birth control are now socially acceptable rather than scandalous. Without taboo subjects to discuss, he claims, the sophisticated crowd has nothing interesting to say. The accompanying cartoon shows a priest collecting money "for the Church of the Redeemer"—likely satirizing how even religious institutions were compromising their values during this morally relaxed era. The column includes gossipy celebrity tidbits (Fanny Ward's age claims, chorus girls traveling "alone" with men), typical of *Life*'s mix of social commentary and Hollywood scandal. The overall message critiques 1920s "modern" values as having eliminated the very transgression that once made wit and rebellion appealing.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Dear Pat Wittarp: Among other new fads in this man’s} village, old two-timer, is the “Salon” gag. “Salon,” if you please, is tall millinery for saloon, and if you have adenoids when you say it, you sound as if you belong. At any rate, the so-called Best Pipple are making their whoopee in these up- holstered cellars, which is exactly what they are, and the cream of wits, no pun intended, and other illiterotics, are pack- ing one such jernt in the Freudian Fitties. Here they gather, my dear Wil- lard, to bury the hatchet in some other guy's head between “swallow-and-chokes” or get restless thinking of a story to tell the other fellow as soon as he gets through telling his. I got a load of the dive the other mid- night just to Broaden My Mind and after trying to keep awake for two hours de- cided that they left me as cold as a kiss from Sophie Tucker. What I mean to say, Willard, is that even before they all get incoherent from unnatural causes their chatter is as dull as a pair of fem me's stems in cotton hose, and you dis- cover that sophistication is passé. Personally, I think the subject: matter for sophisticates has petered out. What the hell is there to talk about anyway these hey-hey days? Divorce, which once scandalous, is now commonplace. Sane people talk sanely about companion- ate marriages. Cigarettes, once the sym- bol of looseness, now represent a personal sensory, sexless pastime. Rouge, once the sign of a Scarlet woman, now is essential to dignified dress. A shiny nose is vul- gar, and sallow faces are an intrusion, indicating indigestion. Risqué stories of the pes are openly retailed in any fash- rona ioned sign of smartness, has been killed off by the stage. Harems have fall- en into desuetude. Gambling has __ be- come a_ respectable home — amusement. Legs are no longer a treat. References to ladies’ mentionables don’t offend because, A presumably, the sub- le revue. Profanity, that old-fash- | ject has faded on ac- count of over-ex- posure. The glamour of the stage has been dulled by the al- ready dull cinemas, and birth control, once the thrill of Shaw's “Man = and Superman,” is now intelligently ad vo- cated by notoriously clean-minded citizens. In fewer words, Willard, this wholesale freedom of speech is taking all the fun out of conversation, because there aren't any forbidden sub- jects any more. Chattering, with nothing daring to chatter about, is just as unin- teresting as drinking would be if we didn’t have a Prohibition law. The town is whistling “You Took Advantage of Me,” a swell foxtrot from ...A “bundle of threads” is Broadwayese for girl..... Fanny Ward, who points out that she hasn’t a wrinkle in her face or stockings and says that she is sixty. five, is only fifty-two. She's the first one in history who ever exaggerated the other way..... And if you want to hand your friends a titter ask them if they know what the height of incompatibility is, After they give up, answer: “When a yes-man meets a no-girl.” Walter Winchell. ————— (A great many correspondents have taken it upon themselves: to answer Mr, Winchell’s letters, Here is one that comes from France.) Ow Boarp SS. “De Grasse” April 19, 1928 Dear Water: I found Gene West, the chorus girl You said she would be traveling alone. I found her draped around a tall, heavy gentleman who was wearing her as a necklace. She is one of a group of ten chorus girls on board this boat, who are all traveling alone, They will appear some time in May at the Ambassadeurs in Paris. These ten, Walter, who are traveling alone, are certainly doing a great thing “Present Arms,” and a pash tango that] for our country. They are intent upon I'm goofy over agged: “*Caramouchi.” | i collecting the French debt. They've been unseen radio congregation that checks should be made payable to the Church of the Redeemer....” collecti tents— Jecting are td Johnni surrou And h In girls \ on bo: traveli Ramo been a he is Cooga gos W the sh us his full-fa featur well. staterc in the smoki ten ch We Frenc! comes Paris. have hossec As a watch appea wasn’ IL could feathe at the “FE dance Ir st much tor. “ pic comicbooks.com