Did You Know…The 'Art' of the Comic Advert - The Age of a New Consumerism

 

I wrote yesterday about the advertisements on the back of kids’ comics back in the 1960s and 70s, specifically, X-Ray specs.

The adverts themselves were a masterpiece of salesmanship. They understood their young audience perfectly and created ads that would tempt us to part with our money.

The 1960s and 70s were the age of a new consumerism, and it started early.

As kids, we were curious, mischievous, and just about gullible enough to believe whatever the advertising industry told us. The artwork was exaggerated, and the words tempted us. The promises were outrageous but affordable, more often than not, a few shillings — and that included the postage.

The actual purchase would be made with a postal order from the post office. You would go there, queue with the adults, including the grumpy ones, and get your postal order. While there, you would pop it into an envelope with the order, put a first-class stamp on it, which back then cost about 3 pence, and post it in the letterbox outside. Just like an adult.

Job done, then you waited.

This was a world without instant reviews, YouTube and TikTok influencers telling us what to buy, watchdog programmes, or online forums. No one stood between the child and the dream. We never knew what we were really buying until it actually turned up.

It was only then that you would either be overjoyed or totally disappointed.

While catalogues like Littlewoods, Kays and Freemans showed you what you could have for Christmas months before the actual day, the comics promised something you might have by next Tuesday. Of course, that depended on the reliability of the post.

But we didn’t have to wait too long.

Our parents rolled their eyes at us, “Don’t waste your money,” or “Will you ever learn?” But I think they also understood that this was all part of growing up. Sometimes you would have to make a mistake, believe the unbelievable, to learn a lesson. “Told you so.” They would say when an item turned up that wasn’t as advertised.

It’s a bit like those dodgy, scam online adverts today. But back then, if there was any consumer protection, it was difficult to find. And learning that not everything advertised is quite what it seems is a lesson better learnt young.

And the comics did give us a world of Mail-Order Magic.

X-Ray specs weren’t the only bizarre invention on offer. Alongside them you’d find:

• The Joy Buzzer — a small metal disc meant to deliver a tiny electric shock. You would wear it on your hand and then offer a handshake. More often than not, it just gave a sad rattle.
• The Whoopee Cushion — this one is timeless. Just place it underneath someone as they are about to sit down. Occasionally, one was brought into school, but no one dared putting it on a teacher’s seat.
• Itching Powder — did it actually itch? Or was it more the expectation of itching? Often caused little more than mild confusion.
• Fake Dog Mess — endlessly amusing to a certain type of child (usually all of them). Put it on the floor in the kitchen, and watch as the poor family dog wondered why it was being scolded. The dog would sniff it and look up to say, “No, not me.”
• The Hypno-Coin — a spinning spiral that promised to bend people to your will; in reality, the only thing it bent was itself. It looked like something that you might see used by a mad scientist in an episode of The Avengers.
• Magic Tricks — often, these could be quite good, and sometimes, they might even work — but that depended on the person playing the magician. There was one trick, the ability to move things with the power of your mind, which usually involved very fine wires the width of a hair and a lot of deception. It was anti-gravity, before science fiction popularised it.

I suppose they were all harmless nonsense, powered by excitement, imagination, and the oh-so-slow process of mail order in the days long before next-day delivery.

For all the silliness, these mail-order novelties were a rite of passage for kids of the time. They represented a sort of independence. One where you chose, paid for, and waited for them yourself. They offered a sense of adventure in which receiving a parcel addressed to you was an event. And finally, it was a lesson in scepticism, as we learnt from our mistakes and tried not to get caught out — or tempted again.

We all knew someone who’d wasted money on them, but no one would ever admit to it.

If you liked this story, similar can be found at the links below:

Did You Know

When I Was a Lad

Memoir

 

Image by Bernd Hildebrandt from Pixabay