Take figures. Women's figures. Once upon a time the hourglass figure was the definition of perfection. A 10. Enough curves to cause a train wreck. Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six (36-24-36) were not lottery numbers, but the most desirable measurements: bust, waist, hips.
Any desirability measurement that went along those lines would nowadays be considered tacky. Probably even offensive. Six pack abs is good for guys, and gals.
I was reminded of how the eye of the beholder has changed when I recently saw 'Goldfinger' for the umpteenth time. Honor Blackman, in her Pussy Galore role was always desirable, but nowadays I wondered if she'd get past the casting call with her lower body girth. Nowhere near bordering on the anorexic look that fills the covers of so many magazines these days.
And then there was the obituary for Denise Darcel, 87, a screen actress of the 1940s and 50s. I was not familiar with her, but immediately got the message, along with the picture when Margalit Fox, in her first sentence described Denise as someone who was a "great beauty"...with an "unmistakably pneumatic figure." The accompanying photo from a film with Glenn Ford offered 1950s proof of the description. Probably a good thing Mr. Ford is seen seated. Sure she was attractive. But by today's standards, she would seem to be a curiosity item.
"Pneumatic figure." What a great description. George Carlin in an early monologue described the tug-of-war with sex and church, pain and pleasure, when he talked of the church of "Our Lady of Perpetual Motion."
There were lots of ways, now I'm sure considered of a certain era, that were offered by guys to desribe the perfect female form. William B. Williams, the WNEW radio disc jockey offered the woman "with a wiggle in her walk." Country songs tell of the "body built for sin." There's that religious thing again.
She has "a butt that could move furniture." This isn't always a good thing. Although J-Lo seems to gotten away it with so far.
Wolf whistles and popping your thumb knuckle in your mouth were always auditory and physical signals that female desirability (a babe) has just passed by. The thumb knuckle thing always confused me though, because I always wondered why anyone would want to nearly bite themselves.
But the unmistakably best dated description of beauty is "she's built like a brick shithouse." No one born after 1949 says that one anyone. You have to hang out in nursing homes or racetracks to hear that one.
Deconstructing that one does leave you wondering what is so good about a brick shithouse? Solid, sure. Okay, a tornado is not going to whisk you away if your timing is really bad, but really, brick and shit? Nothing I'd like to be naked with. Texture and likely the smell should be a mood kill.
"Unmistakably pneumatic figure." Our Lady of Perpetual Motion. Perfect for a family newspaper.
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