You remember the heartwarming ads at Christmas. The pretty little glossy catalogues. The image of the beautiful Avon lady arriving with gifts, each one having its cherished place in every cozy, fireplace-glowing family room in the North American household. Sweet Honesty for the girls. Imperial Garden for the grandmothers. Deep Woods and Wild Country and Tai Winds aftershave for the dads.
It’s 1973 and the Avon lady is calling. Wives and stay-at-home mothers can “take time out for beauty“… and get some serious shopping done from the kitchen. Barefoot or otherwise.
The omnipresence of Avon was most recognizable by the immense variety of shaped decanters displayed on bathroom shelves and window sills. It always seemed to be the same fragrances within, but we were excited to see which new bottles were out. Dogs, giraffes, log cabins, gingerbread men, trains, old fashioned telephones, chess pieces, smoking pipes, cars, cars, cars. The Beetle bottle was one of them.
This dark glass memento was found in my grandparents’ attic in the quaint, pastoral village of New Ross, Nova Scotia.
Remembering the Avon demographic and who’s doing the shopping, here’s an amusing throwback.