6.18.2021

Added just because I think cigarette advertising from the past was amazingly obvious. And wildly fun --- in a twisted sort of way.


Shot through the window of the Hoffbrau Steakhouse; an ancient, cheap, steak restaurant that's been on Sixth Street for 50 some years. Now the establishment is being renovated into yet another indoor/outdoor bar. Ads like these are covering the front windows during construction. 

Betty is not doing a good job convincing me to smoke Camels. Or anything else. But I do love comics.

Copy work via the Leica SL and the Sigma Contemporary 45mm f2.8.

11 comments:

Bob F. said...

Betty Skelton seems to have been something special, both as a pilot and a driver who set several speed records. Despite the smoking, she lived to be 85 years old. I find that “T” thing around her mouth to be highly creepy, however.

granitix said...

Apparently my aunt appeared in similar advertising at that time. I saw a copy, long ago. She was the only one of five siblings to be shipped overseas in WWII.. on USO tours! Her four brothers served in the US armed forces but remained stateside.

MikeR said...

The infamous "T zone."

When I smoked, decades ago, I tried a pack of Camels. My own T-zone did not like 'em at all.

Dogman said...

I was a Chesterfield King and Lucky Strike guy myself. But it's been over 30 years since I've had one of the noxious things.

I was looking at old cigarette ads online recently and marveling at how naive we were.

Unknown said...

That adv is just so, words escape me, but obnoxious comes to mind. I wonder what advertising today will seem just as obnoxious in 50 years.

Anonymous said...

Camels are valuable, albeit stubborn creatures, and if you really do want to smoke even one, be prepared for a blood stained start and spending a lot of time coughing and wheezing and whatnot, especially the skin and hair will be an acquired taste, I presume; stop when you reach the bony parts. Grinding is tough work in 120F+ somewhere in the desert belt south/east of Europe. Better save the water and salt oozing out of you in that proces.

Camel steaks, on the other hand, done right (as in Northern parts of Africa or in the Aussie red center) delivers a taste of heaven (especially consumed at night at a camp fire in the Sharjah dessert or something similar - even if you have to forego the beer; never happens in Aussieland, but felt like mentioning it anyway due to an ill prepared, real life experience ;-)

Tom Lehrer once said: "Life is like a sewer; what you get out of it, depends on what you put into it!". Yeah, he WAS right!

Regards

JC said...

I didn't start smoking because I wanted the nicotine, I started because I wanted to be cool, and there was a place in my college town that sold the French Gauloise, in the acid-blue pack. That's what I started with. And I was pretty cool, flashing that pack, when I wasn't coughing up a lung. The things were like a combination of tree bark and ground-up bicycle tire. By the end of the first week, I was hooked on the nicotine, and smoked heavily (most Marlboros) until I was 34 when I went cold turkey.

Kirk Tuck, Photographer/Writer said...

My dad was a Camel smoker until my older brother, who was then 12 asked my dad if he could try one of his cigarettes. A family meeting ensued at which my dad made a tough bargain: he'd quit, cold turkey, if the three of us kids promised never to start. None of us kids, to my knowledge, have ever actually smoked a cigarette. We held up our part of the bargain and so did my dad. He lived to be 91. And did not die from cancer.

Gary said...

Kirk, I can trust you to lay down the rules. Thing is, I agree with you on every point. Similar ages, I guess.

Richard Parkin said...

Like John C I started smoking for sociable reasons (‘cool’ wasn’t a thing back then). Doing my National Service abroad cigarettes cost almost nothing for a tin of 50 and it was the custom to pass the tin around in a group. I then changed to Gauloise and eventually Gitanes with the maize paper and unlike JC really liked (and still like) the tabac noir. I gave up a few years later than him at age 38 by dint of putting the money saved aside for buying cameras. That was 46 yers ago, so far so good, and luckily no one smokes French cigarettes round here and I hate the smell of Virginia tobacco :).

Michael Matthews said...

Dogman is right. We were incredibly naive.

There’s also the idea that most people were exposed to only a tiny fraction of the channels of communication available today. That made massive repetition of simple advertising messages possible. Didn’t the advocates of brute force messaging say that a commercial had to be heard 15 times before it even began to register? One knew that a commercial was reaching the point of becoming effective when the person who wrote it or approved it said he would scream if he heard it one more time.

If you, Kirk, were but a half-generation older you’d be able to sing, without prompting, the Rheingold Beer commercial. You’d know intuitively what was meant by “A little dab’ll do ya…”, and what fate Ajax, the Foaming Cleanser holds for the dirt. And if someone yanked you into a dark alley, put a gun to your head, and spat out the challenge “L.S.M.F.T.?” you wouldn’t equivocate about confirming or denying some gender identification or sexual orientation but simply respond, “Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco” and pass safely into the night.