The Way to a Mother’s Pocketbook was Through Her Children

QUESTION: I discovered my first child’s advertising booklets quite by accident. I was actually looking through a box of assorted vintage paper goods at a local flea market when I noticed a tiny booklet. It was an illustrated nursery rhymes distributed by Clark’s O.N.T. Thread. I’ve seen other advertisements from the late 19th century but never thought anything about it. Why did advertisers use children in their ads? And why did they distribute children’s books to promote their products? I’d like to start collecting these little books, but I don’t know where to begin.

ANSWER: While there’s a dedicated group of children’s advertising booklet collectors, many people have never heard of them. However, during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, children’s advertising booklets were a common item in many households. Everything from coloring books to junior cookbooks caught the eyes of advertisers.

As early as the 1850s, manufacturers realized the way to a mother's purse strings was through her children. What mother could resist the purchase of Clark's O.N.T. thread when doing so would include an educational booklet of rhymes for her little one? Besides, O.N.T. Black fast thread was "guaranteed never to show white on the seams after being worn or washed” –clearly a win-win situation.

But Clark's O.N.T. thread wasn’t the only company to take advantage of a mother's love for her children. The heyday of consumer advertising in the United States was in the last quarter of the 19th century. This was a time when steam presses and chromolithography made visually appealing promotional material relatively inexpensive, and when manufactured goods proliferated.

The great Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia in 1876, with its myriad of domestic exhibits, inspired thousands of different advertising handouts. Advertisers began to use the image of a comfortable middle-class life as an inducement to purchase their products. Well-fed babies and well-dressed children at play were themselves symbols of material accomplishment. Plus, they portrayed the picture of wholesomeness.

At the same time. advertisers became aware that the woman in the household made most of the buying decisions, especially of household goods. The logical conclusion was that promotions which doubled as toys for children might also attract sales.

Many of these little promotional booklets have survived. So what affects their value? Condition, subject matter, general appeal, author, and illustrator are all important when determining the value of a children’s advertising booklet or an ad with children in it. Though companies hired prominent illustrators to create these booklets, many of them aren’t given credit. Among the more famous ones are W.W. Denslow who illustrated The Wizard of Oz, Johnny Gruelle who did Raggedy Ann, and Maxfield Parrish, who became known for his high fashion Art Deco paintings. So booklets that feature these artists are likely to command a premium.

The Wonderful Lunch Boxes, illustrated by 20th century children's book illustrator Shirley Kite is a good example. Printed in 1925 and 1927, the book came inside boxes of a variety of Post cereals, including Bran Flakes, Instant Postum and Postum Cereal, Grape-Nuts, Toasties, and a cereal that obviously didn't go over too well----Bran Chocolate.

There was also a wide variety of advertising booklets available. Coloring books, nursery rhymes, and alphabet booklets were particularly successful as advertising promotional material. In most cases, advertisers created ingenious tie-ins with their products, using verse, parody and caricature. Occasionally, advertisers included watercolor “chips” in coloring books, and sometimes interleaved the pages with glassine to protect the images from smearing once children colored them.

However, not all advertising booklets were aimed at children. In 1910, Ivory Soap issued “Elizabeth Harding, Bride,” an advertising booklet with instructions on how to clean everything from blankets and brassware to hardwood floors and rubber plants all using Ivory Snow. It seems new bride Elizabeth feared her housekeeping abilities would be unacceptable to her new husband until Ivory Snow saved the day.

Jell-O was America's first packaged dessert, and owner Orator Woodward had a tough time convincing the public that combining water with white powder would produce tasty fruit-flavored gelatin. In 1902, Woodward hired door-to-door salesmen to hand-deliver Jell-O recipe booklets. The strategy was a key part of Jell-O's marketing for decades. And as with previous booklets, prominent artists illustrated many of them. One of the most famous is Rose O'Neill, best known for the Kewpie doll. A 1915 mint condition example of Jell-O and the Kewpies now sells for over $100.

Collectors can still find great examples of charming booklets for under $100, and many are still priced for less than $50.

Along with the promotional booklets, advertisers also used children in illustrations for some not-so-common products. One of the most bizarre was “The Dutch Boy’s Lead Party,” a paint book for children. Considering that housepaint used to contain lead, it seems a bit noxious to promote it with children. Then again, maybe that’s supposed to be pronounced “leed.”

To read more articles on antiques, please visit the Antiques Articles section of my Web site.  And to stay up to the minute on antiques and collectibles, please join the over 30,000 readers by following my free online magazine, #TheAntiquesAlmanac. Learn more about the Retro style in the Fall 2020 Edition, online now. And to read daily posts about unique objects from the past and their histories, like the #Antiques and More Collection on Facebook.

We've Come a Long Way Baby

QUESTION: I discovered an unusual bottle in a box lot I bought at a local house sale.  The bottle is about six or seven inches long, pale green, and oval but doesn’t have a flat bottom, so it must lay on its front or back. Do you have any idea what this little bottle would have contained or been used for?

ANSWER: Believe it or not, your little bottle once held baby’s milk.
           
The development of baby bottles took centuries to transform into the sterile plastic throwaways in use today. As knowledge of germs and hygiene developed, so did the infant feeder. While parents of earlier times sensed that babies who were breast fed had a better chance at surviving, it wasn't until the early 20th century that mothers and bottle makers realized that clean, sterile feeders were necessary to protect a baby's health.

Before then, bottle makers created a variety of feeders—from tiny coffeepot-shaped ones of tin to china submarine-shaped flasks decorated in Flow Blue and transferware patterns. Glass bottles didn’t come on the scene until the mid-19th century.

Nipples, made of wood, ivory, bone, sterling, pewter, leather„ rags, sponge, rubber, and yes, a pickled cow's teat, were nothing like those in use today.

Much like today, bottles were necessary because some mothers couldn’t breast feed, and, unlike today, it wasn’t always fashionable to nurse. When a friend asked Queen Victoria if she intended to breast feed, she reportedly said she had no intention of making  a cow of herself.

One manufacturer immortalized Victoria’s image on a stoneware bottle that’s now prized by collectors. But the queen hated that her likeness appeared on a nursing bottle.

Besides a dislike, of nursing, there were other reasons for women to use baby bottles. Many women thought that nursing would destroy their figures. It also inhibited them socially since they couldn’t travel and leave the baby at home.

Fathers weren’t too keen on breast feeding, either, because doctors and midwives often advised mothers to refrain from sex during nursing.

Wealthier families employed wet nurses, usually young women who had a child and could nurse another. Since parents believed that a milk giver’s personality traits could be transferred to an infant through their milk, choosing the right one was important.

The ideal wet nurse was a plump rosy-cheeked young woman. Many people believed that red-headed girls gave bitter milk and produced ill-tempered babies. They even suspected animal milk, believing that infants took on the attributes of the cow or goat. French nobles gave the title of “contessa” to a wet nurse so that their infants could be nursed by milk of noble origin. Those who couldn’t afford to hire a wet nurse, turned to a variety of infant feeders, many of them unsafe by modern standards.

Though a china submarine-shaped bottle with blue transferware is beautiful, being completely opaque it was hard to clean. Fermenting milk curds could be lodged in the corners and mothers would never see them.

Charles M. Windship of Roxbury, Massachusetts, developed the first glass baby bottle, a small turtle shell-shaped: feeder, in 1841. Women thought the shape would fool their infants into thinking it was a real breast.

To use the Windship bottle, a woman wore it on a harness on her breast. It was probably difficult to use because girls with tender, post-childbirth breasts wouldn’t want to place any weight on their on top of them. Because of its shape, the Windship bottle became known as a mammary bottle. Today, they’re highly prized by collectors and sell for nearly $500 each.

But the Windship bottle wasn’t safe for the baby. The Windship and some subsequent bottles came with a long rubber tube, topped off with a rubber nipple. The tube allowed for hands-free feeding for mothers. These devices also had their problems. Dried formula would clog the tube which was too small to be cleaned, so bacteria blossomed. This feeder became known by the onerous name of the “murder bottle.” New York State banned them in 1906, and other states rapidly followed suit.

The turtle-shaped bottles, begun with the Windship model, remained in use from around 1860 to 1910. The bottles had vents, sometimes on both ends, so that air bubbles wouldn’t enter the milk. A nipple went on one end and a tiny cork on the other.

Most bottles became cylindrical by the beginning of the 20th century. Sterilization also became routine. And by the 1930s, bottle makers began embossing their glass bottles with puppies and kittens. These continued to be used until the invention of the disposable plastic bottle.

Nesting Mothers

QUESTION: My mother has a substantial collection of what I call “Nesting Mothers.” These are the little Russian nesting dolls that often appear at flea markets. One day, this collection will be mine, so I’d like to know more about them. When and where did they originate? Are they valuable? And are there different kinds?

ANSWER: Those are all good questions. First, the correct name for your mom’s Russian nesting dolls is Matryoshka dolls, also sometimes referred to as Matreshka dolls. And while they’re commonly associated with Russia, they didn’t originate there.

A professional artist and folk crafts painter named Sergei Malyutin, who worked on the Abramtsevo estate of Savva I. Mamontov, made the first sketches of a nesting doll based on one his wife brought home from a visit to Honshu, Japan, in the latter part of the 19th century. However, the Japanese say that it was a Russian monk who first brought the idea of making nesting dolls to Japan. Whatever the case, Russian craftsmen liked the idea, and Matryoshka dolls came into being.

The first dolls looked a bit different than the ones made today. Malyutin intended his doll to depict a round-faced peasant girl with beaming eyes. He dressed her in a sarafan—a floor-length traditional Russian peasant jumper dress held up by two straps—and gave her carefully styled slicked-down hair largely hidden under a colorful babushka or bandanna. He placed other figures, either male or female, each smaller then the one before, inside the largest doll, dressing them in kosovorotkas, or Russian blouses fastened on one side, shirts, poddyovkas, or men’s long-waisted coats, and aprons. He planned to have the smallest, innermost doll, traditionally a baby, turned from a single piece of wood. But it was Vasily Zvyozdochkin who made the first doll set in Moscow towards the end of 1890 and made the Matryoshka doll a reality.

Mamontov's wife presented the dolls at the Exposition Universelle in Paris in 1900, where they won a bronze medal. Soon after, craftsmen in several other Russian towns began making them and shipping them around the world.

So where did the name for these dolls come from? At the end of 19th century, Matrena was one of the popular female names in Russia. Derived from the Latin root matrena, it means, "mother," “respected lady," or "mother of the family." Placing one figure inside another was also a fitting symbol of fertility and perpetuation. People also refer to these dolls as "babushka dolls", "babushka" meaning "grandmother" or "elderly woman" and also the name of the bandana worn by peasant women at the time.

Matryoshka dolls aren’t easy to make. It requires a lot of skill. Many a craftsman has given up after trying to create one. In the beginning, those who did know how to fashion these dolls kept the process a secret. 

First it’s important to choose the proper type of wood. Because of its softness, lime wood is generally chosen, less often alder or birch. It’s important to cut the wood at the right time, when it’s neither too dry nor too dump. Only an expert can determine when it's just right. Each piece of wood goes through as many as 15 separate operations. The craftsman creates the smallest doll in the series—the one that cannot be taken apart—first.

Once the smallest doll has been made, the craftsman starts on the next figure into which that first doll will fit. He cuts a piece of wood to the necessary height and then cuts it in half to form a top and bottom section. He works on the bottom section of the doll first, removing the wood from the inside of both sections of the second doll so that the smaller doll will fit snugly inside. A skilled craftsman, by the way, doesn’t bother to make measurements but relies solely on experience. Afterwards, he repeats the process, making a slightly larger doll into which the previous two will fit.


When the craftsman finishes each doll, he covers it with starchy glue that fills in any hollow areas in its surface. Then he polishes the dolls to a smooth finish to enable the painter to spread the paint evenly. After fashioning and finishing the wooden dolls, the craftsman hands it on to a painter who then gives the dolls their inimitable style.

The number of dolls held one inside the other varies from 2 to 60. There’s no limit to the size of these dolls. Some made today are quite large and hold many others within.

Much of the artistry is in the painting of each doll, which can be very elaborate. The dolls often follow a theme which may vary, from fairy tale characters to Soviet leaders. Originally, doll makers used themes drawn from tradition or fairy tale characters, in keeping with the craft tradition, but since the 20th century, they have embraced a larger range, including flowers, churches, icons, folk tales, family themes, religious subjects, and even Soviet and American political leaders.

The craft of making Matryoshka dolls gradually spread from Moscow to other cities and towns, including Semenov, Polkhovskiy Maidan, Vyatka, and Tver'. Each locality developed its own style and form of decoration.

As with other crafts, the Russian Government under Communism strictly controlled doll making and selling. But political changes at the end of the 1980s gave artisans new possibilities and freedoms. They could now make their dolls without fear.

A painter named Sikorsky was one of the first whose dolls became popular with the public. His dolls bring the highest prices, with individual sets costing as much as $3,000. His access stimulated other artists, and since then, Matryoshka doll making has been on the rise. 

For more information on Matryroshka dolls, go to Nesting Dolls.