The snob value of canned pineapple
Found this while searching for regrettable-food ads. It doesn't fit the contest category but I had to post it anyway:
There is so much here. Bear in mind that this is the depths of the Depression: playing on snob value, that at our table we serve only the center slices. I can almost hear her drawl: "Mahhhhvelous, aren't they?" His pencil-thin mustache. A smoking jacket for Christ's sake. Her marcel wave, and her body language, and that silk peignoir. Wine glasses and doilies on the breakfast table.
And the maid, bringing in the coffee with the faint composed smile of someone who's just spit in your fucking center slices.
(Good Housekeeping, December 1933. I wonder if there's any chance of a "Great Depression" tag?)
There is so much here. Bear in mind that this is the depths of the Depression: playing on snob value, that at our table we serve only the center slices. I can almost hear her drawl: "Mahhhhvelous, aren't they?" His pencil-thin mustache. A smoking jacket for Christ's sake. Her marcel wave, and her body language, and that silk peignoir. Wine glasses and doilies on the breakfast table.
And the maid, bringing in the coffee with the faint composed smile of someone who's just spit in your fucking center slices.
(Good Housekeeping, December 1933. I wonder if there's any chance of a "Great Depression" tag?)