Lux ran ads throughout the 1930s and 40s, warning women of the danger of dishpan hands, and their warnings eventually reached an unintended audience.
In 1948, a Soviet delegate to the UN explained that the reason Soviet women were not allowed to leave the country with foreign husbands was because that in the West wives became kitchen slaves and developed dishpan hands.
Located inside Abrams Planetarium on the campus of Michigan State University. The curator of the museum is Planetarium employee John French who's been collecting towelettes since the 1990s.
The crown jewel of the museum's collection seems to be the Star Trek towelettes.
Other interesting towelettes include Mammo-wipes and Xerox typewriter waterless handcleaners.
Jane didn't use Lux Toilet Soap. So she was doomed to be forever alone.
Previously posted: Lux ads about "undie odor" and gossiping underwear. During the 1930s and 40s, Lux Soap specialized in ads designed to terrify women into buying its products.
They should sell this stuff at home improvement stores, because whenever I do a DIY project I somehow always end up with filthy knees.
The Minologi Hizaawana Foam Clear Pack will form a bubbly layer over your knees and elbows and work its magic for 10-15 minutes. After that you just peel it off and discover what the real color of your skin was underneath those pesky dirt particles. You'll never feel cleaner!
Frances Gabe had a vision of putting an end to housework. No more dusting or vacuuming. All a homeowner would have to do would be to push a button and the house would clean itself, as if the entire structure was a giant dishwasher.
Of course, this meant that everything in the house had to be waterproofed. But it also meant that the actual dishwasher and clothes washer became redundant. Just hang dirty clothes in the closet and stack dishes in a cabinet — they'd get washed along with the rest of the house.
Gabe offered two stories for how she came up with the concept of the self-cleaning house. The first was that, as a newly married young woman, she once noticed a jam stain on the wall. Instead of scrubbing it off she decided to get a hose and sprayed it off.
The second story involved divine inspiration. After divorcing her husband she said that she was sitting, feeling despondent, and praying to God to provide her with some purpose to keep her going. Suddenly two angels appeared on her shoulders. And then, she said, "I picked up a pencil and began scribbling. I thought I was just doodling. Then I stopped and looked, and there was the self-cleaning house."
She received a patent (No. 4,428,085) for the self-cleaning house in 1984. She also transformed her own house in Newberg, Oregon into a prototype. From what I can gather, she never managed to make the entire house self-cleaning, but the kitchen could clean itself.
When she was alive she would offer tours of the house, but she died in 2016, and the new owners of the house haven't maintained its self-cleaning features.
Incidentally, Gabe was an invented name, so it's not what appears on her patent. Her full name, when married, was Frances Grace Arnholtz Bateson. She constructed 'Gabe' out of her initials.
The bathing poncho, invented by Timothy and Brenda Reardon, allows someone to shower while clothed. From the patent:
The present invention generally relates to wearing apparel. More specifically, the present invention is drawn to a disposable poncho adapted for wear while bathing or showering...
In institutions such as hospitals, nursing homes, college dormitories, gyms, and the like, the bathing or showering facilities often lack the privacy to which one is accustomed to at home. Thus, becoming unclad to take a shower or a bath can be somewhat of an unpleasant and embarrassing experience. A covering that would preserve one's dignity by minimizing exposure while also insuring a thorough cleansing would certainly be a welcome addition in the marketplace.
I can appreciate the problem this addresses, but I wouldn't want to be the kid who shows up in the locker room shower wearing one of these.
Paul Di Filippo
Paul has been paid to put weird ideas into fictional form for over thirty years, in his career as a noted science fiction writer. He has recently begun blogging on many curious topics with three fellow writers at The Inferior 4+1.