“American men have been raised on a fiction: that American women are soft, feminine and alluring. They forsake the freedom of single bliss and the grubby affairs in motels and automobile back seats for the fantasy that is held up on all sides of soft female flesh, partially hidden by a sheer black negligee; sex on silken sheets with a perpetually young and sylphlike wife with red lips and nails by Revlon and hair always in place by Toni. They dream of gay, perfumed nights of love courtesy of Sortilege.
Even before the honeymoon is over, the sucker discovers that in marrying an American woman, he sold himself into bondage to a domineering, sexless individual who regards marriage as a contest with a husband to see who is going to be the boss. And the poor chump always loses.”
By the by, I had to look up Sortilege — while the author is probably talking about having a gay time (ahem) with the Canadian brand of whiskey/maple syrup liqueur, I’m choosing to believe he meant the ’80s French heavy metal band.
For millennia, men have sought the perfect woman, and women have sought to achieve that ideal. After countless minutes researching this very issue, I present my findings for you, my dear readers. Let the following photos be your template in your attempts toward Womanly Perfection!
In this illustration, we are helpfully guided by the measurements taken from some of today’s top leading ladies. From this, we know that women should stand 5’4″, weigh 118 lbs, and have the following attributes:
• The eyes of Mary Pickford
• The 33″ chest of Greta Garbo
• And the ridiculously small, possibly bound feet of Ann Pennington. (I was incredulous about the size-3A thing, whatever that means; upon further Googling, girl wore a size 1 1/2!)
However, some may find the above method toward perfection too imperfect. Thankfully, we are able to look to the supercomputer for answers! Today, technology is able to conclusively define the Perfect Woman (as seen in the printout), which apparently includes a toned stomach, a flip haircut, and an oddly thick neck. Please note: Perfection may or may not include a bikini.
Well, it’s not quite the Miss Inner Beauty Pageant, but I suppose this will have to do. I love how the exceedingly creepy judge checks their eyes like he’s fixin’ to buy one of them. Yeesh. Also: yashmak? Was that part of the everyday British lexicon back then?
Sure, she had to be pawed at by the judge, but at least she won an enormous rose-shaped soap for her trouble! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Miss Beautiful Eyes of 1958!
[The following is presented as an example of a "successful" pick-up line.]
“On a crowded bus:
You step on her foot.
YOU: Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry!
You step on her foot again.
SHE: Ouch! Please!
YOU (blushing): Oh, excuse me, please forgive me. I’m not normally so clumsy. It’s just that it takes a while for me to get my land legs after I’ve been out on a yacht.
SHE (wide-eyed): You have a yacht?
YOU: Why, do you like boating? …
Remember, you don’t actually say you have a yacht. Later, when she tries to pin you down, you can always say your friend Ari owns the yacht–and he’s a round-the-world voyage. But you offer to take her on a one-week cruise instead.”