Vintage Pin Up: French Magazine

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Redheads And The Road To Ruin

a2a2aCaution: mild adult content.
Like it says: 
Ya know….. 
” Reefers, Redheads,
— and the Road to Ruin ! ” 

It ain’t no secret, I guess.

I love bad girls.
( I call ’em razor girls )

I can’t help myself.
I’ve always been
that way.

In high school,
it was always the razor girl —a1a1a

with the bad attitude,

with the foul mouth,

wearing the peek-a-boo
ratty torn t-shirt,

the 3-inches-shorter-
than-dress-code-allows-skirt,

the everybody-fuck-me-
but-you heels,

the one that was always ready
to have a loud and gruesome
public fight about something —a3

—- that attracted my attention first.

And if she had red hair, then:
” Outta the way fellas, she’s the one.

The one that would
pour a perfectly good
ice cold cherry Slurpee
down into your pants pocket,
then laugh and point at you,
and tell everyone who
would listen about how
she made you wet yourself.

Of course,a2
in the end,

after she stole your heart —

and your car,

after she ruined your grades —

and your whole reputation,

after she trashed your locker —

and your front lawn,

after she scratched all your records —

and your face from ear to chin,a4

after she mangled all of
your personal relationships,

and how well some of
your body parts worked,

after she ran off with your
one-time-best friend —

and your teacher,

after she carved her initials
on your locker,
(just her initials,
…. mind you)a5

and on your knee cap,

after she tore down and
criticized everything that
you thought you were,
and wanted to be —

and invited seven of
her ex-boyfriends
to your birthday party
to beat the hell out of you …….

— you finally would come to realize —

that she was tearing down
a highway that you couldn’t
possibly have followed,a6
or even kept up.

It seems a shame, really.

But, the good part is,
you can see her anytime
you want .

On the cover of
vintage crime magazines.

Yep–
— there she is, alright.

Somehow, she always
seems to be enjoying
her life of crime.a8

It makes me wonder
about that whole
“crime doesn’t pay thing”,
sometimes, ya know ?

Jeeez—-

Stacey always did say
that you were just
a big ole mama’s boy.

Ahem.

Anyway…..

Today’s post is about
vintage crime
magazine covers.frsc

As if you didn’t know already.

These mags were most
popular between 1930
and 1960 —

And featured articles written
by some really good writers
early in their careers —

like Dashiell Hammett,
Raymond Chandler,
Ann Rule,
and Jim Thompson.

Although nobodya1a1a
really READ them,
I don’t think.

My interest was always
in the cover art.

Depending on the magazine
in question,
you might have a photo
on the cover,
with salacious headlines
that had little,
or nothing,
to do with the cover,
— or even the content inside–

Or — my preference,
of course-
an illustrationa2
with the same inattention
to detail as far as the headlines were concerned.

Ah well —
who cared about the
sketchy print inside–
as long as the
sketchy sketch on the cover
sparked your imagination.

And hoo boy,
did it ever.

The art was usually lurid,
maybe even
slightly shocking,a1a
with very lively color —

Great illustrators like:
Margaret Brundage,
Robert Maguire
Peter Driben,
Rudolph Belarski,
Earle Bergey,
George Gross,
and Norman Saunders
not only painted covers
for magazines in this genre,
but to a large extent,
influenced what would appear
on the covers
in the 1930’s and 1940’s….a2a2a

—- if the publisher really
wanted them to sell, that is.

The magazines had titles like :
Hollywood Detective,
Best Detective,
Amazing Detective,
True Crime Detective,
Startling Detective,
Master Detective,
Uncensored Detective,
Detective and Police,
Special Detective,
Actual Detective,
Official Detective,
Sensational Detective,a1a
Front Page Detective,
Headquarters Detective,
Special Detective,
Inside Detective,
Daring Detective,
Expose Detective….

not to mention:
Crime Year Book,
True Crime,
True Police,
Headlines and Crime,
Best True Fact,
Line Up,
Gangster Stories,a1a
Black Mask,
Police Stories,

oh, well….
I guess you get the picture.

By the height of the 1950’s,
there were literally hundreds
of titles to choose from.

Unfortunately,
the tendency of publishers
to prefer more graphically
gruesome covers made them
harder and harder to look at
by the early 1960’s —a2

no longer were they simply
a nominally benign
peek into the dark,
or a mildly guilty pleasure —

And while a little excess
can seem like ecstasy,

too much can get —
well,
excessively excessive.

Hey,
…. who said
I was a philosopher, anyway?

HOY !!!!

.

a7

 

 

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