"You either loved them or you hated them...
there was no in-between."
It's interesting to note that a small-but-significant percentage of e-mail arriving at The Girdle Zone describes a fascination with the products of one particular manaufacturer. (And I thought my tastes were finely focused!) Here are two typical examples:
Greatly enjoyed your web site. Wonderful to have the site available. In a future update of ZONA , if possible, could you include any information, photos, stories, whatever on those wonderful all-rubber Playtex girdles and panty girdles that were marketed about 1950-52. Came in slim long tubes and were, apparently, quite popular for a short period of time.
These are collectors' items at this point. Any source where you can buy such an item?
-BFJ
After reading the articles on why men like girdles, I feel great. In the past I wondered if I was alone in my fetishes. For some reason the Playtex latex girdle really gets me going. I would love to find a place that still sells them. I would like to hear more about past memories of the Playtex girdle.
-Johney
Well, BFJ and Johney, you're in luck.
Not only are you not "alone in your fetishes," you are in company with a bunch of guys and gals who love to write. So here, without further delay, are thoughts about Playtex girdles, past and present.
-Virginian
From Mae-
I lived through the "Playtex era" and wore their rubber girdles from when I first started wearing girdles as a teenager, so I can fill in some of the "history" at least.
I remember my mother wore an unlined Playtex brief under her bathing suit in the late thirties. So at least the briefs were available then. (She always wore a regular cloth girdle except for that latex sports brief so I don't know if other styles were available at that time.)
Playtex was first a maker of latex products like swim caps and baby rubber pants and then the famous rubber girdles. (See The Playtex Story by JDT.) They moved into conventional elastic foundations much later, first with bras and then girdles. Their first girdles were unlined, so they were hard to put on and could be quite hot. They also tore very easily. In the late forties they were lined, and were not so apt to rip.
Several people have commented that Playtex latex girdles were not available or popular after the fifties. That's not the way I remember it. The Golden was an excellent cloth lined girdle and was made into the seventies, I think. Playtex was a funny girdle. You either loved it or you hated it! There was no in-between. I think I know why: I think the main reason was the sizing. Playtex came in five or six sizes each covering about a three- inch waist span. Regular cloth girdles were available in two- inch increments and really good firm ones by the inch. Some better cloth ones also came in straight, regular and full hip styles, and many came in three lengths. So a woman could find a cloth girdle with just the desired fit and control.
Another thing was that the very early ones were unlined and I gather were really hard to get on and off, and were very hot. I knew women who tried them once and wouldn't again, even after they were lined.
I remember Gimbels in New York every once in a while got irregular Playtexes in their Bargain Basement. The day after the ad appeared there would be tables and tables stacked high with them and even more women in a shopping frenzy buying them by the dozen, it seemed. And this was true into the seventies. You wouldn't want to get between a woman and her Playtex.
The Golden was still being sold well after the Eighteen-Hour was introduced. The Golden was really just as comfortable.
I think the Playtexes were made much later in England because I got some a year or so ago from a company on the Internet. Much more money, but well worth it. I guess all things have gone up.
Playtex did a lot of novel things that created a universal brand awareness. They were the first to advertise widely in national magazines like Life. And then when television was new they advertised widely on it. The way they got all the television time was related to Warner Brothers. Playtex made a deal with Warner Brothers to acquire the television rights to all of Warner Brothers' old movies. They gave the movies to local stations in exchange for airing Playtex ads.
From Ben-
In the late 1940's and early 50's Playtex sold a panty brief and an open girdle both made from pure rubber. The open girdle had molded garters as a part of the girdle. Both had holes to allow the girl's body to "breathe". They were pink, and were sold rolled up in tubes. They were very popular with younger girls in high school and college, particularly the brief (worn under shorts). Generally they were very tight and clung to the body because they were rubber. Somewhat difficult to get on and off!
I've always felt it a great loss that Playtex discontinued them many years go. The all-rubber open girdle and panty brief were elegant and sexy. Maybe some day someone will manufacture them again.
From Suzanne-
The Playtex Magic Controller, which was latex rubber, had little airholes so your skin could "breathe" and was lined with cotton felt. It was genuinely uncomfortable, but took you down two dress sizes. It was usually saved for occasions when you absolutely had or wanted to look your best.
From Bunyip Bluegum-
In a recent discussion someone suggested that Playtex were the most popular girdle in the 50's and 60's. I suggested they were only one of many brands, to which Mae wrote "I think Bluegum is mistaken about the popularity of the rubber Playtexes. They were by far the most popular brand in the States."
My knowledge of the situation in the States is limited; only what was advertised in the print media, and what we saw when we spent a year at Orinda, near Berkeley, in the mid-60's. But nothing I have read or seen suggested that Playtex was markedly more popular than the others. Generally speaking, the popularity of a product is indicated by the amount of shelf space devoted to it, and I certainly don't remember Playtex having a disproportionate percentage of the display area, or of the (print) advertising. We didn't have a TV then, so I don't know about TV advertising.
Do remember, on the other hand, that Playtex did set up a single-brand sales counter in a prime area on the ground floor of Myers, our largest department store. Can't remember the time. Do think they had the silver tubes, but also have a feeling it was after the time girdles started getting bad publicity, so I was both pleased and surprised. However it could not have been a success, as it fairly quickly disappeared again.
Playtex had two ranges here in the 60's. First was the "Eighteen-Hours" flock-covered latex. My wife and I both tried these. She found them relatively comfortable (she never really liked any girdle), but in our experience they were relatively weak, and did not last well. Also, I disliked both the feel and the smell.
Second was the "I Can't Believe It's A Girdle", of lightweight lycra fabric. This appeared to be popular here, though I as far as I have been able to find out it never really took off in the States. I liked the look and feel, and they were my own favorites for a long time. However they had a particularly heavy elastic in the cuff-top, which did not match the fabric of the body of the garment, anoning to stop it rolling or folding, so that it tended to fold below the waistband, and cut in uncomfortably. When I tried the equivalent Hickory garments I found the waist was better matched to the body, and they have boning to prevent rolling over or folding.
Later (early 70's) Playtex introduced a third range (called Magic Touch?). These were similarly styled, but were made from a cheaper fabric. I didn't think they felt as nice, or controlled as well as the ICB range.
The Eighteen-Hour range disappeared here at least 10 years ago, but last year I noticed it had been re-introduced. However this time it was made from a conventional fabric. I saw it in the States, but I think I only saw it once here, and haven't been able to find it again. Have any of you tried it?
What do the rest of you think about the relative popularity of the Playtex girdles, and how many of you tried them?
From Tass-
I read Bunyip's article on the Playtex thread. It is very interesting to see how other countries introduced and marketed the Playtex line of undergarments. He mentioned that the "Eighteen-Hour" and "I Can't Believe Its A Girdle" line were not predominant lines in Australia. In the USA these lines sold very well and are available today. The popular ICBG is still a major seller in North America both by Playtex and Penneys (who market the brand also with their trade name). Sears also has a version that sells well. The "Eighteen-Hour" brand still is available in many department stores and in specialty shops around the country.
Recently Playtex has brought out a new "Eighteen-Hour" fabric, made up of Nylon and Lycra with no latex or Rubber fabric content. These girdles are available in brief style only. The garment is very similar to the "Super Look" brand and is probably similar to your "Magic Touch" brand.
The ICBG is probably their best selling brand since the garment is of high quality and the fabric is very durable. The waistband problem you mentioned, I am not aware of. The NA garment has about an inch-wide band that does not roll. The narrow bands with many other brands appear to roll more often. Also the cuff band on the panty leg is sewn on top of the panty- leg body fabric making 'visible panty cuff". This part of the garment should have a smooth line.
For folks that like the rigid garments, the "Eighteen-Hour" Latex/Rubber fused fabric is still a good product. The tight encasing of the fabric does produce the feeling that many girdle-lovers like.
From Virginian-
So far as I know, the Playtex "Eighteen-Hour"/Penneys "Comfort Hours" line are about the only girdles currently available on the mass market with a high percentage of rubber in the fabric.
Whether that is a plus or minus factor is strictly a matter of personal taste. Rubber is heavier than Lycra, but has less shaping power. A firm-control rubber girdle is going to be much heavier than an equivalent garment made from Lycra, so it's no wonder that rubber fell out of favor.
As far as the sensual feel, I pretty much go along with Bunyip. A typical Lycra spandex girdle usually has a silky feeling to the fabric that the Eighteen-Hour styles do not. However, the high percentage of rubber in the Eighteen-Hour Girdles gives them a distinctively retro texture and aroma (let's use all the senses)... very 1940's.
So if you're into playing dress-up, and you want to wear the sort of girdle that Ingrid Bergman might have had on beneath that little striped dress when she walked into Rick's Cafe American and messed Humphrey Bogart's mind so thoroughly, then I'd suggest looking around for an open-bottomed Playtex Eighteen-Hour Girdle, or its equivalent from Penneys.
From Melinda-
To the best of my knowledge, Playtex began making the Eighteen-Hour Girdle somewhere around 1968. I've been wearing them ever since they were introduced, and I still love wearing them! It was about that same time that Playtex stopped making (or at least actively marketing) the rubber girdles I remember wearing so fondly ---the Living Girdle, the Golden Girdle, etc. I guess that's why I remember the year the Eighteen-Hour Girdle was introduced.
From Virginian-
A historical digression: back around 1970 or so, Playtex advertised the Eighteen-Hour line fairly heavily on television, leading to an awful lot of TV comics telling lame jokes along the lines of, "I was out with my wife last night, and suddenly we had to rush home because her Eighteen-Hour Girdle expired."
Yuk, yuk.
The commercials themselves were actually moderately witty, as TV girdle commercials went. (Up until recently, the networks refused to show any depiction of women in their underwear, so you didn't get the juicy soft-porn type of images I've seen on some recent Hanes and Sears commercials. Instead, there were girdles on mannequins, and bras floating in mid-air, all accompanied by voice-over narration that talked about the miracle fibers that would leave you "firm and flatter," and promised, "You'll look five pounds thinner in a Playtex girdle.")
The Eighteen-Hour ads all followed the same basic plot. They'd start with an elegantly dressed woman, out in some sort of public situation. The one I remember best had an actress taking bows at the end of a play. There she is, acknowledging the applause, graciously accepting a bouquet of flowers, beaming with pride. Suddenly, she turns to her co-star beside her and whispers in his ear, "My girdle is killing me."
Then the narrator would come on and explain that what the lady really needed was a Playtex Eighteen-Hour Girdle, which would stay comfortable all day long. It wasn't until much later that I stopped to think just how long eighteen hours really was: the equivalent of six in the morning all the way to midnight. That's a long time to do anything, including wear a girdle. In all our years together, I can only think of one occasion when she went a full eighteen hours in a firm girdle, but that's for some other discussion some day.
From Suzanne-
When Playtex came out with the Eighteen-Hour Girdles in the mid-sixties, when I was a teenager, I remember really liking the concept. It seemed to glamorously imply that the career girl got into her girdle at 6:00 in the morning, went off to work, and then after work went out on a date with dinner and dancing, arriving home at midnight. I wasn't a glamorous career girl, just a high school student, but since my mother expected me and my sisters to wear girdles and skirts around the house, it wasn't at all uncommon for me to spend eighteen hours in a girdle. In fact, it was virtually an everyday occurrence (sixteen hours at least). But there was something neat about the idea that a girdle had to take a lady comfortably through a whole day of exciting activities while all dressed up.
The thing was, there were plenty of occasions when I would wear a girdle for more than eighteen hours. There still are. My personal record is about 38 hours, involving a transatlantic trip to attend a wedding. Women often have to sleep in their clothes while travelling, on a long-distance car trip, or on a plane, and if they wear a girdle, well ... It has never really bothered me to have to do this. If you're used to girdles, it's not a big deal. There is a kind of zen of girdling that sets in after a few minutes or a few hours, depending on your mood, the girdle, and the weather. If you're in the mood to be dressed up, if the girdle is not a real killer, and if the heat is not intolerable, 20+ hours is easy.
From Virginian-
One of two Playtex ads in the collection of New York's Museum of Television and Radio is a perfect example of the glamorous imagery Suzanne describes. Produced in the fifties, it predates the Eighteen-Hour campaign, but it is obviously a precursor. In rapid succession, it conjures several archetypes that were the zenith of sophistication at the time, all the while stressing, "You can wear this hummer all day without a problem."
The ad opens with a shot of a stewardess- holder of the most glamorous job conceivable for a woman in that era. (See The Girdled Stewardess- Sexual Icon of the Jet Age). She is seated at an outdoor cafe in- where else?- Paris. The female narrator announces in a voice dripping snobbery,
"She wore it in Paris, beneath the blazing sun..."
The scene suddenly shifts to a moonlit rooftop terrace. Our heroine, now in evening gown, dances with a handsome partner. We learn,
"She wore it in New York, when the day was done."
Flashbacks then show the stewardess juggling trays and assisting passengers as the narrator explains that the girdle remained comfortable while she carried out her transatlantic duties.
One other aspect of the commercial intrigued me. Although it dates back to an era when girdles were an accepted element of every lady's wardrobe, the word "girdle" is not used at any time in the narration. It's always, "Her Playtex shapes her gently" and "Her Playtex moves as she moves." I assume this was done to promote brand identification and not, as one sees today, from a desire to avoid the nasty G-word.
From Suzanne-
Although there was an incredible profusion of girdle ads in magazines and newspapers during the period, I only remember Playtex advertising on TV. I wonder why.
From Virginian-
That's my recollection as well. Perhaps it had something to do with the size of the company; I presume Playtex had bigger bucks for its ad budget than say, Gossard or Vassarette did. (Today it's owned by Sara Lee, isn't it?) I've also wondered if advertising costs are the reason Playtex products seem overpriced for their quality.
Getting back to the Eighteen-Hour ads, Playtex stuck for a while with variants on the theme of attractive, elegant women hissing, "My girdle is killing me!" at incongruous moments, thus giving an unseen narrator the opportunity to describe the superior comfort of Playtex products. Then, maybe someone in the ad agency decided that with pantyhose taking over, it wasn't a good idea to emphasize negative perceptions about girdles, because a later campaign went in a different direction.
In these ads, you'd see a man waiting impatiently by the door while his well-dressed wife bustled frantically around the house.
He'd yell, "Honey, we're going to be late! What's taking you so long?"
She'd answer, in great dismay, "I'm sorry, but I can't find my girdle!"
As hubby rolls his eyes, she stops in her tracks, runs her hands across her hips, then sheepishly admits, "Wait... I forgot! I'm already wearing it!"
They'd walk out the door, laughing together, as the narrator came on to explain that Playtex girdles are so comfortable that you might actually forget you have one on. The picture would shift to show the narrator standing next to a torso mannequin which displayed the girdle in question. She'd go on for a while about the great things it does for your figure. Just at the end she'd say, "So try one. It's so comfortable you'll almost..." Then she'd stop short, run her hands down her own flanks, look at the camera and announce, "I almost forgot. I'm wearing one!"
I always liked that ending because I figured, what with truth-in-advertising laws, the narrator/actress really had to be wearing what she said she was. These ads ran just as I started to discover my interest in foundations, and I was spending a lot of time looking at women and wondering if they had a girdle on. Women in real life never made it so easy as the narrator on the commercial. I like a woman who tells you when she has a girdle on.
I can think of one other Playtex commercial from this era, but I didn't particularly care for it. You saw a woman lounging on a couch, talking on the phone to an unseen friend. (Fawlty Towers fans: think of Sibyl.) The whole thrust of the conversation was how this woman had upstaged a rival by wearing a seductive dress to some occasion or other. The monologue went something like:
"I'm telling you, dear, you should have been there. She kept staring at me, and I just smiled back. I've never felt so smug. I knew she hadn't expected me to wear anything like that. She was positively green with envy!
"What? Of course you know the dress I'm talking about- we looked at it together. Yes, that one. Yes, I know I said I didn't think I'd be able to fit into it. No, I haven't lost any weight. I have a new girdle, and the dress fits perfectly when I'm wearing it. That's right, dear, the dress looks absolutely divine on me now... my new Playtex girdle smoothes me over in all the right places.
"What's that? No, it's not at all uncomfortable. Yes, I know what you mean- some of them are like steel cages, but I wouldn't wear anything like that! This one you can wear all day... as a matter of fact, I'm wearing it right now!"
At this point, the woman gets up off the couch, and you can see she's wearing a tight pair of pants that hugs her girdled buns exceptionally snugly. Thinking back, I wish I could take another look at the ad. At the time, the character seemed so shallow and bitchy that I found her absolutely unappealing, but I think today I'd be inclined to turn the sound down and think to myself, "Remember: she's only an actress playing a part... but she really is wearing that girdle."
(Of course, crass as this one was, it was still a cut above the Cross-Your-Heart Bra commercial in which a guy walks right past his girlfriend in an airline terminal, then stops, does a double-take, then gawps, "Arlene, is that really you?"
She runs her finger in an X through her cleavage and simpers, "Yes... cross my heart!"
You half expect the oaf to demand, "But what happened to your boobs?"
With unexpected good taste, however, the ad-folks left the question implicit.)
From Ruth-
To give you some background, I grew up in the south in a Victorian household with a wonderful Mother whose word was absolute. My husband always insisted she ruled "with an iron fist in a velvet glove" because what she said went, but she never raised her voice or got angry. My teen years were late 50's and early 60's and I hardly ever left the house without a girdle from the time I was 12 years old. Being a bit on the "pudgy" side, I probably needed them. I recall only having one garter belt to hold up my stockings. After that, it was always a girdle of some type, normally panty girdles but also roll-ons.
I wore them to school, to church, to any social function. My Victorian mother did not allow girls to climb trees or play rough. The only time I wore slacks or jeans was to ride my bicycle or help with the yard work, and I did not wear a girdle then unless it was a rubber brief. My first Playtex was open bottom, but my heavy thighs rubbed together when I walked and I developed a rash that summer. I believe I was probably 13 at that time. So, the next Playtex had legs in it. If I remember correctly the legs were not as long as they are in the non-rubber panty girdles I wear presently. I had girdles made of other material as well as the Playtex rubber ones. And I recall one other rubber one of another manufacture.
It was my greatest hope that rubber girdles would help me sweat off some of the weight I felt I needed to lose. I wore the Playtex girdle to school on days that I did not have physical education class. Because it caused me to sweat (even in December in the south, one would sweat in a rubber girdle!), it was too difficult to struggle back into quickly enough to get dressed and get on to the next class. I wore panty girdles made of elastic and nylon on those days. Thank goodness we only had gym every other day. About half the girls in my gym classes in the late 50's wore girdles and thought nothing of it... just another piece of clothing. I don't remember discussing girdles of any sort very much - they were just there. The really skinny friends I had didn't wear girdles but all the others did. I suppose they had Mothers just like mine.... to quote her, "No lady goes out of the house without her girdle. Women who bounce are not ladies."
When I went to college in the early 60's, about half the girls I became friends with continued to wear girdles. My Playtex girdles went to college with me also, but I don't remember wearing them as much because it seems that about that time the material in the elastic ones because a finer quality (this was probably when Lyrca spandex came in). The new elastic didn't have a tendency to "eat" your flesh when you had to wear it over a long period of time. The early wide-mesh elastic net was notorious for that. You can still buy girdles made of that material. They are usually cheaper than the others.
About that time, pantyhose came in, and I believe that innovation, along with the "let it all hang out" attitude that soon arose, caused the demise of all girdles and especially rubber ones. I wasn't enamored with girdles but wore them because I felt I needed them. After marrying and gaining weight it became more difficult to be comfortable in rubber and I gradually discarded my rubber girdles, much to my husband's dismay. Now I am sorry I did, and if I could find them again, I would purchase and try them. So if someone out there knows of a source, please post it to this group.
From Tass-
I remember a college friend that wore a long-leg panty girdle with the lace stocking bands. These lace bands used to show just below her shorter skirt at that time. The visual effect was always very exciting.
Also I remember a classmate that wore the Playtex Living Latex Girdle. I could always detect the sweet smell from the Playtex rubber scent used. It was always a very pleasant smell that is missed today. During lunch hour, it was not unaccustomed that a lady friend would sit with her legs crossed at the table with a wisp of Daisy Fresh Long Leg Panty Girdle leg showing. I recall that many women classmates used to be proud to show off their undergarments during class. I think many of the professors loved to come to our classes just for the view. I do not remember any failures in the class. Personally I loved to see my female companions wear a girdle, especially when going out to a dance or some party.
From Trish-
I read with interest the comments on the Playtex "I Can't Believe It's A Girdle". I believe and have said before that it is a very high quality girdle... one of my favorites. One hint on wearing it is that when new it seems very stiff but is much more comfortable after a few washing and wearings. The Dept. store price is usually close to $40.00 but I bought one from the Hanes Place catalog a couple of years ago for $22.00. The fabric is quite unique (I think it has been referred to as "Tweave" ) and it is a very firm girdle yet lightweight.
From Bunyip-
For some years in the late 70's Playtex were running ads here showing three mature ladies standing side by side. The middle one was wearing a ICB girdle, and looking happy, while the other two were wearing the equivalent Berlei Sarong and Hickory Four- Spot lines, and looking glum, with each holding a placard showing the name and weight of their girdle. In one ad the girdles are normal waist long leg, and the weights are given as 164, 98 & 168 grams, while an earlier one shows high-waist, long-leg girdles, and the weights are given as 160, 110, and 160. It is curious that the normal waist opposition girdles are heavier than the high-waist versions.
From Virginian-
The nadir of television girdle advertising arrived in the late1960's, when even mighty Playtex seemed to surrender to the perception that girdles were strictly for the old and flabby.
An Eighteen-Hour ad featuring World War II pinup queen Betty Grable is a perfect example. The aging star, whose image once adorned countless barracks walls and bomber fuselages, is a quarter-century past her prime, and looks it. One feels mortified for her as she confesses to the nation, "Without my Eighteen-Hour Shortie, these Million Dollar Legs aren't worth a dime."
Echoes of Sunset Boulevard!
Less poignant and more banal is a 70's commercial one can view at the Museum of TV and Radio. Set in a lingerie shop, the ad resembles nothing more than a vaudeville sketch as a salesclerk and her frumpish customer endlessly belabor the latter's confusion over the brand name, "I Can't Believe It's A Girdle." The dialogue has all the glamour, but none of the laughs, of Abbott and Costello debating "Who's On First?"
Does anyone remember any other TV girdle ads worth mentioning?
From Hans-
I really enjoy your page. Good job!!! I am wondering if you can help me locate an outlet for the reproduction of the Playtex girdle. Someone on alt.clothing.lingerie posted the fact that they thought these girdles were still manufactured in the UK. I am referring to the latex girdle that was around in the 50's. Any help?
From Daniel F.-
I was first introduced to girdles when I was a young boy in the fifties. My mother and sisters always wore girdles, mainly panty girdles. They had Smoothie, Playtex, Gossard, Vanity Fair, and others I can't remember. My favorites were the Playtex Golden Girdle, high-waist, and the Young Smoothie. The Playtex Golden Girdle was made of cream-colored rubber or latex, had holes in it for breathing, and nylon crotch. The Young Smoothie was pale blue and had the front, sides and back in satin panels.
After a while, I just had to find out what they felt like to wear. It was a wonderful feeling to put them on and wear them under my pants. It wasn't even noticed by anyone, because no one expected a boy to be wearing a girdle. That even heightened the erotic feeling. Now that I am older, I can afford to buy my own girdles, bras, body briefers, pantliners, briefs, pantyhose, stockings, slips, teddies, and other erotic underwear. I feel jealous sometimes when I see a woman wearing a girdle under her clothes, and I don't have one on.
I try to wear something of my spandex wardrobe everyday. Even to work I go wearing panties, pantyhose, and panty girdle, and sometimes a bra under my workclothes. And no one knows it! I do hate the chafing that sometimes occurs. There have been times that I've worn a control brief, support pantyhose, a bodybriefer, a panty girdle or two all at the same time. I don't do that too often, too constricting. I wish everybody could just once try wearing a girdle. You'll see and you might like it!
I like The Girdle Zone very much. I just wish I could find another Playtex Golden Girdle or Double Diamond Girdle again.
What did Mae say about, "You either loved them or hated them?"
Here are two ladies with the same name and diametrically opposed views...
From Barbara L.-
Most of my girdles seem to come from Sears or Penny's. I don't like Playtex "Eighteen-Hour" types as they seem heavy and uncomfortable. I do have some vintage girdles way back in my dresser, including a couple of the Playtex rubber ones!
From Barbara B.-
I like the Playtex girdles, and will often wear a Playtex brief when I want the tightness and control in my tummy. The materal is the classic rubbery floral material (Eighteen-Hour?) and I have a body briefer in the same material.
From Virginian-
Looking over a "One Hanes Place" catalogue (gorgeous- get one!1-800-300-2600) from 1996, I ran across this claim for Hanes "Smooth Illusions" control-top pantyhose:
Put on two ounces of pantyhose. Look like you took off five pounds.
Since I'll never forget the honeyed tones of the TV announcer promising women across America, "You'll look five pounds thinner in a Playtex girdle," all I could say was, "The more things change, the more they remain the same."
From Glaydis-
First of all I would like to say how much my husband and I enjoy your web site. It brings back alot of great memories. We particularly enjoyed the stories about the Playtex girdles.
I was 27 years old in 1950 so I lived through those golden Playtex years that you are all talking about. During the 50's and up till about 1964 Playtex was about the only girdle that I wore. I found them very comfortable and at the time that was the style. We did not think of them as sexy, just functional. We wore them to help make our clothes fit right and they did a good job of that.
I can remember several styles and colors through the years. Pink was very popular in the late 40's and early 50's. I also remember owning one that was a light blue color. Most were open-bottom styles because once you put one on you left it on till the end of the day.
One thing that has not been mentioned or talked about is how these girdles did have a tendency to split or rip at times. I can remember two such occasions that this happened to me. When I was about to leave for work one morning my husband came up behind me and pinched me under my skirt - his hands were ice cold and when I jumped I split my girdle half way up. We still laugh about that.
Another time I slipped on the ice and fell. Both of the back garter tabs ripped off and the girdle split right in half. That was one of my more embarrassing times, but I lived through it.
It would be fun to see the Playtex latex girdle come into vogue again. Everyone should get a chance to experience the elegance.
From Centreville-
A word on latex girdles: I believe the JC Penney catalog still carries a line of latex girdles. They call them "Spanette". If I remember correctly, they are described as latex rubber with thousands of tiny holes for breathing. The name Spanette is similiar to Spanel, the founder of Playtex - wonder if there's any connection there? In the catalog picture, they look like they are covered with some sort of material. I haven't had any contact with latex girdles, so I don't speak from experience.
From Don-
The advertising barrage that International Latex Corporation laid across the American print and early television landscape could not help but impress itself on most every mind. It was ubiquitous; it was slick and it was attention-getting right from its inception in 1947 until Lycra supplanted rubber as the primary elastic material almost two decades later.
International Latex was the original maker of the Playtex "Living Girdle," a line they pounded into every mention of the product. It may be difficult for some to appreciate that while bombs did not fall in the streets, World War II (among its rationing of meat, sugar, butter, tires, gasoline and a host of items), deprived American women of some of their most desired objects of feminine expression. Nylon, which had set the women's hosiery industry on its ear right from the outset of its introduction at the 1939 World's Fair, was totally diverted to military fabric use. Imagine a nation of women who had but a year or two's taste of what was then a fabulous new fabric being deprived of it for 6 years. In fact, silk and even rayon were embargoed to civilian use as well. The result was that American women did without sheer hosiery, instead painting their legs with suntan makeup and even drawing "seams" up the backs of their legs with eyebrow pencil. Scenes about it can be found in Hollywood movies of the era. (The mystery of how American soldiers on the front lines late in the war got hold of nylons to trade with the locals never has been rationalized with the embargo back home. Everyone has seen those movie scenes, too.)
All the shortages meant that most American women had to make their way through the war with whatever they might have preserved from the pre-war years. About the only exception was a product of Kayser-Roth called the "Curvette," a "back supports" made for female defense plant workers. It was, to all effects and purposes, a lace-up waist corset. To even get a "Curvette," Rosie the Riveter had to have a letter from The Boss or The Doctor saying her work risked back strain. In any event, by 1947, American women were eager and ready to restart their marketplace for feminine underpinnings. That matched the situation of the Paris couturiers who had just begun to pop a change from rather loose, flowing gowns of the Jean Harlow era into the structured, tailored fashions of the "New Look." Anything that permitted women to express their femininity was bound to be a smash hit. Clothing reeking of feminine style was far more important than any consideration for "comfort" or "action clothes" or such talk. Women wanted to be women. If Dior and Mainbocher et al had come up with a collection of Wizard of Oz costumes, they would have sold if only they were clearly identifiable as being very different than masculine or neuter gendered clothing. (Talk about an attitudinal shift 30 years later -- there certainly was one!) And newly-available lingerie led a broad front of the resurgence.
There were no real "miracle fabrics" like today, so high fashion had to be made from good old wrinkly, saggy natural fibers like cotton and wool. That meant fitted clothes couldn't sculpt and mold a body, so an immediate huge markets for underclothing blatantly classified as "foundation garments" powered its way onto the scene. There simply was nothing to keep a girl's "cottage cheese" from showing right through other than a good girdle. Woolen sweaters demanded a good firm brassiere if an endowed wearer was going to look like other than a lactate machine on the street. The "foundation garment" industry mushroomed right up, making news in Wall Street reports every few days. Even such staid magazines as the Saturday Evening Post ran illustrated feature articles about the phenomenon, with one article titled, "Her $500 Million Figure." May not sound so much today, but factored for inflation, that must have equated to $ 5 billion today.
And there, right at the front of the herd, was International Latex Corporation, after its lion's share of the market -- with a product that was "something other than the ordinary." ILC's Playtex "Living" Girdles" were a continuation of a pre-war attempt at using pure rubber for women's foundations and swimwear; a trend that began in the mid-1930's. (One could dig up a whole paper about the rubber swimsuits of the 1930's that were so disastrous they never returned after the war. Things like the styles made in flesh tones that made the wearer look naked at the beach; the way makers had to design clever little drain flaps into the garments because the first ones collected water to an extent that gave the wearer a Pillsbury Doughboy sort of figure when emerging from the water -- not spiffy at all; and not least of all, a tendency for the darned things to split open at a seam right out there on the beach, leaving the wearer in a serious state of oceanfront deshabille. The hazards and discomfort of wearing a solid rubber suit from armpits to thighs out in the blazing beach sun was enough to give the rubber swimsuit a very short life span in fashion history.)
Mail order catalogs also record some pre-war sorts of rubber girdles, dating back even into the 1920's according to some historians. The first were merely sewn garments, often with a flannel or stockinette inside covering for the obvious need for comfort. The Playtex girdle overcame all that with loud and effective advertising.
The announcement ads were a double-page spread in every national magazine and large city newspaper, always splashing a large photo of a model wearing the product. Now, THAT was REALLY racy for 1947, let me tell you! It couldn't fail to catch attention. Not even Preston Tucker's proposed automobile got so much space, purchased or otherwise. Politicians may have promised a car in every garage, but Playtex promised a girdle in every underwear drawer -- and probably came close to achieving it.
Claims for the product were intense: They announced the Playtex Living Girdle, made of "pure liquid latex," was best for every woman of every figure type, lifestyle and age. Right from the outset, the ads trumpeted lines that continued to the end of the era: "Rinses clean in a flash and dries with a few pats of a towel;" "made without a single seam, stitch or bone to poke, cut or bind" throughout a whole day's wear. But the real clincher was a line that would have caused certain trouble from today's Food and Drug Administration and Federal Trade Commission: The ads always ended with the line: "And women who wear Playtex faithfully say the next Playtex you boy will be a size smaller."
Well, that line may even have been true. Turns out that to get one of the things on, a woman had to dry herself completely, then dust herself and the girdle thoroughly with talcum powder, and then slide the thing on in one fluid movement. A cloud of dusting powder wafting down the hall was a pretty certain signal that Mom or Sis was getting dressed to go out. Reason: The sealed-in body beneath it began exuding copious perspiration in any climate other than Arctic zones. Once on, the darned things were for all purposes glued into place for the duration. If this sounds like ripe material for Erma Bombeck, you're right! I bet Dave Barry couldn't even constrain himself to 750 words about it.
In any even, tons of water weight had to evaporate out of the garments, hence they were perforated with hundreds of little holes spaced abut an inch apart. The panty style, which also was a really racy garment for the era due to its, shall we say, "close fit," also had some larger holes in the crotch area for drainage if nothing else. A cool breeze up one's nether regions must have been a really pleasantly refreshing experience for wearers. Needless to say, a boy's curiosity about how those female creatures wore such things led me to find the answer in a bathroom wastebasket one day. A string tag that had been tied through the crotch holes had been removed by one of the females of the house. It carried full. lightly-phrased verbiage on how there was no need to remove the garment once on. Personal matters could be attended to by stretching the crotch aside. The phraseology was a masterpiece of word art, making it sound like a real benefit compared to fabric garments. Heck, maybe it was. At any rate, a woman could glue herself in and not have to emerge until bedtime if she so desired. (More about that later.)
Another facet of Playtex' "taking the girdle public" was its retail merchandising. Another unforgettable line was in every ad: "Look for the girdle in the slim silver tube." And sure enough, in every store, standing out like a NASA rocket display, would be a stand of eighteen-inch-tall silver tubes on the counter top. It had to be the very first product that ever looked like more than a piece of fabric on display. Playtex' ad blitz created such demand it was hard to find a store not sporting the "slim silver tubes" on the counter back in that corner of No Man's Land called the Foundations Department. And, with a price that was very competitive, I can imagine even the pushiest store clerk had a hard time steering a determined buyer in any other direction.
The initial splash wasn't all. Playtex kept up the momentum for years. It wasn't more than a year before those first demure ad photos of a model in a sheer dressing gown were replaced with one that stuck much longer -- an action time-sequence photo of a "leaping lady," smiling happily as she bounded across the two pages in her Living Girdle, creating a scene that contained many elements of a young lover leaping across a meadow into her lover's waiting arms. How could one NOT be impressed with such vivid imagery -- even women. Add that to the artful phrasing of the ad copy, and the ad alone had to have made the sale.
While maintaining the key element of the "leaping lady," Playtex added more fuel to the fire. Within two years or so of starting up, they pulled a coup by hiring then-famous Broadway ballerina Bambi Lynn to conduct some "laboratory research" on the Living Girdle. News releases and feature articles in Sunday rotogravure sections carried photos of the well-known, obviously shapely dancer glued into various Playtex styles, bending, flexing and toe-walking to "simulate" the motions of a wearer throughout the day, proving of course that the stuck-on garment did not slide around during wear. Another year or so later, those ubiquitous Playtex ads ran for months trumpeting they had found some way to get no less respected an organization than the "United States Testing Laboratories" to declare the Playtex girdle had the best price/performance ratio in the market. (How they ever determined the "performance" of a girdle remained a mystery. I'll leave that up to Erma and Dave. They're good investigative journalists.)
It didn't end there. Playtex launched a long series of celebrity endorsements. Then-famous names like Dorothy Kilgallen, Ilka Chase and assorted actresses extolled the qualities of their own personal Playtexes. One from the Rich and Famous Department always tickled me. Of all people, it was Mrs. Harvey Firestone, wife of the rubber tire magnate, whose endorsement told how well her Playtex girdle kept her blouse tucked in on the tennis court. Whoever landed her for that endorsement must have gotten a gigantic bonus! Oh, there were female sports figures, too: Babe Didrickson the golf champion and Esther Williams covered those interests. The Playtex people were thorough in their campaign in addition to making sure the product was right out in front of the public, intended market or not. For years, it was hard to miss the Playtex ad in a Life, Look, Saturday Evening Post, Collier's, or any of the women's general or fashion magazines.
And, when television came along, you could bet on it: Playtex was there. Just as soon as afternoon programs got on the air, Playtex sponsored an afternoon fashion show, featuring all its celebrity ad endorsers and the Leaping :Lady, artfully attired in a black catsuit complete with mask and gloves, against a black background, so all one saw was a leaping girdle bounding across the screen. Talk about propagandistic reinforcement. Joseph Goebbels must have smiled up from the fires of Hell the way Playtex waged its war!
And Playtex didn't miss a beat when it came to product announcements, either. Every year or so, there was an "improved product" with a price increase. First it was adding flocking to the interior, so the ads trumpeted, "Now with fabric lining!" in addition to all the other stock phrases. Then, there was some sort of claimed heat dispersing formulation of the material, appropriately called "Pink Ice" (what else--a nd now packaged in pink tubes, no less!). When there must nut have been much to add, they changed the dead-white product into a sort of off-white with a golden tinge, calling it the Golden Girdle" -- and, you guessed it: The ads blasted out, "Look for the Girdle In The Golden Tube at stores everywhere!" And it was, of course, everywhere. In later years, when they had to get down and dirty, a model called "Five Pounds Thinner" was marketed. The mind boggles at what Playtex might have done had Saddam Hussein been on the world scene back than, What would Playtex have come up with for The Mother Of All Girdles?
Along the way, there were some side departures, too. The earliest models came in several colors - white, Gardenia Pink, Sky Blue, Springtime Yellow and Aqua Green. That would seem to have been a ploy to bother the fabric-based competitors, or at least meet perceived early competition, because it didn't last long. For years, Playtex girdles came primarily in white. One departure occurred in the early 1950's, well after Playtex had its solid huge market chunk, and in a time when black became an important underwear color. Playtex made black product for a couple of years. A Macy's ad in one Sunday New York paper listed them hugely discounted for close-out purposes.
The imprinting of those ads on even a male mind was thoroughly reinforced in one's gender-formative years by discovering the girls had literally total Playtex Mania. I clearly recall an episode of the early TV program, "The Goldbergs." of course about a New York Jewish family's trials and tribulations. In that episode, the pubescent daughter comes down the stairs to greet a visiting friend, and wheedles the conversation around to "Feel my hip." Her friend is mightily impressed and awe-struck when she perceives a firmed-up hip, exclaiming, "A GIRDLE!" The Goldberg girl caps it with, "It's a Playtex, of course."
That scene must have played out most everywhere in any semi-urbanized part of America. Even where I was down in humid, sweaty, sub-tropical Florida, girls and women were glued into their Playtexes, most it seemed, for the duration of the day. Bits of "girl talk" would waft around the halls in school; things like how they could wear their Playtex to gym class, then just pull it away a bit in the shower to rinse it out a bit --- or, how the disaster of splitting it by getting a fingernail in one of the vent holes had occurred, so they were planning to go by the store on the way home to get a replacement.
At the beach, many women wore a panty brief under their swimsuits, and it wasn't rare at all to see the distinctive white edge of a Playtex sneak out from under a swimsuit when a mother picked up a child. (Remember, those things stayed where they were put on!)
Now, Playtex didn't monopolize, nor ever really oligopolize the market (although they may have come close). Fabric garments of many styles were made, and fashions in foundations even changed from year to year. Even though Lycra wasn't known of yet, an increasing variety of elastic fabrics was occurring, and there was plenty of advertising for them, too -- although none reached the constant din of Playtex publicity. Certain clothes demanded other "foundations" and women bought them as appropriate. But if there was ever a Utility Girdle for the American Woman, it was the Playtex -- as widely spread and common as the Army Jeeps sold in endless numbers at surplus sales for years after World War II. In fact, even when my own time to donate to Uncle Sam's Army came, there, standing at full attention on the counter of the Post Exchange, were tubs with Playtex girdles for the WACs.
But, back to imprinting and mind-shaping: Girdle-mania and Playtex both peaked around mid-1954. It so happened I suffered a bout of Rush Limbaugh Disease a.k.a. a pilonidal cyst in medical terminology at just about that time. In a pre-operative visit to the doctor, I sneaked a look into one of the fashion magazines out in the office (blame it on the testosterone and a society that didn't yet have any "skin magazines" to speak of. Esquire was about the raciest thing in street print, and limited itself to an occasional Gypsy Rose Lee or Vargas Girl. It was yet several years before a porn dealer named Irving Klaw would be selling "naughty pictures" of a girl named Bettie Page.) The magazine had one of those fashion article lead-ins, something to the effect of, "The first and most important article you must have for your wardrobe this season is a good girdle." And, what was the featured item? You guessed it: A Playtex.
By this time, none of us who had fooled around with girls was a stranger to Playexes. They actually made better lovers of us. You HAD to talk a girl out of one of those things, because lacking the facilities of a shower and lots of dusting powder, once they took it off (and it didn't slip off; they had to roll it down, then unwind it), there was NO way they were going to get it back on. That meant it had to go home in their handbag, or perhaps even get stowed in the glove compartment of the car till the next day at school. Many's the artful swain who took a chum down to the school parking lot between classes to show off having won the Playtex Trophy the night before at the drive-in movie! I even worked at a drive-in for a while, and found a couple that must have fallen out of embarrassed reach in the darkened drive-in. Took them into the office and dropped them in the Lost and Found box, but nobody ever claimed them.
..When I speak of needing to be an artful swain, that's not kidding. Remember, those early 1950's were still the time of the fitted bodice and nipped waist. More than once, I had to overcome the dual obstacle of a Merry Widow or brasolette that was trapping the upper half of a Playtex under it. That combination meant you had to talk her out of the back-hooked Merry Widow that was trapped under a back-zipped fitted bodice dress, with a stack of crinolines under there before you could even get down to the Playtex-rolling stage. And, in the way over top of the Playtex would be four long garters attached between the Merry Widow and stockings. In other words, you really had to talk the girl into totally disrobing, and it made them think a lot about the consequences and what it was going to take to arrive back home to Mother's Watchful Gaze in reasonable appearance. Needless to say, there were many times one's ardor would have to be settled with Plan B. At least the girls were usually understanding and would go along with Plan B, so the boys didn't suffer a semen hemorrhage. Also needless to say, when a roving hand under all the crinolines detected no such obstacle, it was a pretty clear sign of the young lady's intentions as to how the evening should play out.
That's in large part how impressive ads and products can get to be, and like many another man, I carried a lifelong crush on the girl who first introduced me to that part of The Feminine Mystique. I'm proud to say that lesson, repeated a number of times over the years, always got me a rating as a gentleman with the ladies.
But the imprinting did not stop there. Remember the spate of Rush Limbaugh Disease? It didn't keep me out of the Army, because I had the operation. Well, all those many years ago, the only surgery was a direct approach, with surgeons varying in opinion about whether to keep the patient in the hospital with a packed surgical wound, letting it heal slowly from the inside, or sewing the patient back up with steel wire, and being careful to avoid tearing the stitches out. I bet you can already guess what the surgeon prescribed for me to avoid that risk, can't you? Talk about the way to make a teenage boy into a cowering hermit during recovery! Was I ever glad it was Summer and school was out.
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Originally Posted February 2, 1998