Mad Man

Vogue is not making this easy - but still, I have to hand it to whoever arranged the ad page.  Putting the two worst ads together was probably the right choice.  But still.  Downer.

Bad . . .

Here we have Bill Blass, on his way to becoming Bill Blass, Inc., designing for Maurice Rentner, the King of Seventh Avenue (or the Napoleon) "paying tribute" to Galey & Lord, a new-to-me-but-quite-large textile manufacturer, a division of Burlington Industries, which was as big as it sounds.

I can only depart information here for those who are interested in following up.  This is just not grabbing me.  New York Times Obituary for Maurice Rentner;   creepy website for current manifestation of Burlington Industries; New York Times Obituary for Bill Blass.  (This link has been glitching - good luck.)

A quick image search shows that Galey & Lord ads can be quite kicky.  Not this one.

Here is Bill Blass - the thought of whom has always bored me silly, but he seems to have been a nice man.

And worse . . . but actually  it's just when I wonder what the hell I'm doing here that something interesting turns up.

They've got to be kidding -- Revlon of the Flama Grande!  Flama Grande!  Flama Grande!  ???? 

Oh, the difference an ad agency makes! 

From the New York Times, February 2, 1959:  

"Writing an advertisement can be relatively simple.  So can writing a letter.  But the creation of an ad containing a letter in an envelope is another matter.

   This is a conclusion reached by Revlon, Inc. C. J. LaRoche and Vogue magazine. . . The latest issue of Vogue has an ad for Revlon''s new Ultima, a skin cream.  An envelope that duplicates the personal stationery of Charles Revson, president of Revlon, is pasted on a page, with a letter enclosed telling women about the new product.

   The envelope is pasted on in a manner that makes it possible to bend it back and expose a canceled postage stamp.  This had to be affixed to all subscription copies."

Oddly enough, this idea came from a woman. In July 1958, Frances Shaw, a copy supervisor at LaRoche came up with it.  It required:

 *  9 tons of paper, 4 tons of special vegetable parchment to simulate Mr. Revlon's stationery and five tons for the magazine page;

*  applying each envelope by hand

*  pre-canceled stamps

*  $45,000.00 for everything, including overtime.  

  I sold that a copy of that issue - the envelope had disappeared.  

Presumably, by December 1959,  women rushed out and bought Ultima, and wrote letters of their own to Revlon, or Peggy Olson just made them up.  

Exactly a year after the Herculean effort of the envelope,  the agency C. J. LaRoche fired their client.   Oh, the many bottles of scotch that went into that decision.  

Chester LaRoche:  "We believe the best result is realized when there is an agreed upon plan to achieve specific needs through a specified series of actions.  Revlon, on the other hand, finds that best results are achieved when action is determined by reaction to situations and competitive moves. . . We found that the account took more of our time and effort than we thought prudent, both in relation to our clients and to our own plans for continued growth."

That was a good episode!

Chester LaRoche, of whom I can find no photograph except in his obituary, was the quarterback for Yale in 1916.  He was head of the War Advertising  Council during World War II.  An interesting person.

Now, let's go to the movies!  

*  In this living, breathing, issue of Vogue, three girls go to New York to work at a place very much like Conde Nast.

*  This was my favorite movie when I was 10.  Still very fond of it, but it sure is awful in many ways. (Robert Evans (!!) as rich Wasp heel, who. . .no -- you've got to see it to believe it.) 

*  Hope Lange and Stephen Boyd very good together; Suzy Parker dreadful.  Joan Crawford is Joan Crawford.  

Next -- another wack Revlon ad.