A good friend of mine recently lost several older relatives and her family cleaned out their house. When we were having dinner with she and her mother last week, they presented me with a great-aunt's 1950s "Mold and Hold" Playtex zipper girdle in its original packaging. I was squealing with giddy delight.
Shiny and blue, the packaging promised that its new "soft cotton lining" wouldn't irritate, was more absorbent, and that the whole thing would keep its shape "month after month"--apparently these things were not expected have a long life span.
I've read a bit about the rubber girdles of the 50s and 60s, but in general I knew very little about them. What a thrill to get my hands on it! Filled with anticipation, I popped the top off the cardboard tube and poked my nose right down close to get a look at it.
My first impression came from the powerful rubber odor that wafted out into my unsuspecting face. Not sweat. No, it smelled clean. But if you've ever had a rubber mat for your bathtub, you know the smell I mean. Whew! There's a sensory experience that's been lost to time!
So I pulled it out and unrolled it.
I was not disappointed. In excellent condition, the thing actually felt rather like a bathmat, and was perforated all over to allow for ventilation (and probably an exit for the copious sweat that would result from wearing this).
The best part was the decorative V-shape in the perforations that seemed to be attempting to make the thing attractive. I'm sorry, but if I took somebody's clothes off and found this underneath, no amount of decorative perforation could make this sexy (unless I had a rubber fetish, in which case "hot mama!")
What a fabulous toy! I now have a glimpse into the lost sensory experiences of the 1950s. Although I will not wear it (for conservation reasons, as well as the fact that I am distinctly unnerved by the very idea), it is fascinating on so many levels that I am tickled pink.
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