8 Sep 2011

Guarantees: Because There's Nothing Worse Than Coming Home From School and Finding a Dead Monkey in a Dress at Your Door

Today's random retro find is compliments of the classifieds section of the July 1962 edition of Redbook:


A human-like pet to caress and play with, this golden-haired SQUIRREL MONKEY makes a cherished gift for both adults and children. Brings fun and companionship into your life with its heart-shaped face and very lovable eyes. Easy to train and care for, eats what you eat, needs only understanding and affection. Comes to you 6 months old, grows 12 inches tall. It's an education just owning one. Free cage and instructions with each monkey. Guaranteed Live Delivery.

One day we should compile a list of all the things that fall under the category of "It's an education just owning one." It would be phenomenal.

6 comments:

Anne 2:16 pm, September 08, 2011  

What the...
I don't...
It's not...
I can't even make sentances. Just, *headdesk*. That is all.

Keri 3:19 pm, September 08, 2011  

I would LOVE to see a survey to find out how many people actually ordered one! That is just crazy!

Anonymous,  4:32 pm, September 08, 2011  

I just love it when you dig this stuff up, Jen. So funny and bizarre! And not THAT long ago!

father of the monkey (the other monkey),  5:13 pm, September 08, 2011  

I remember this very clearly (I was 12 after all!). I also recall ads for monkeys that were small enough to fit in tea cups. Ads for chameleons were usually sandwiched between the ads for !!X-Ray Vision!! glasses (who's single purpose was to permit you to see through peoples' clothes) and those for ventriloquist devices (throw your voice! fool your friends!).

I couldn't afford the monkey in a dress (or even the one in a teacup) but I must see if I can find those X-Ray glasses. They must be around here somewhere!

Anonymous,  7:00 pm, March 13, 2012  

I was 9, and I saved up my money from delivering newspapers. I got a monkey! It arrived starved and dehydrated, in a cage with the leash and clothes on. It bit everyone, and peed and went everywhere, and tore up the house.
On the 5th day, during supper it jumped up and peed on my Dad's supper. My Dad yelled, picked it up and hit it over the back of the chair. It lay on the floor screeching, and he kicked it and it bounced off the refrigerator. Looking back now, its’ back was probably broke. He took it out and threw it in the garbage can, and told me to leave it there. It was lying in there screeching, so me and my friend got it out, took it over to his house, my friends parents raised chickens, and had the chopping block behind the garage. We put it on the block and cut its head off to get it out of the pain. We didn’t know what else to do. We buried him under the laic bushes so he’d always have flowers on his grave. To this day I can’t stand to be around monkeys.

Colleen 9:08 am, March 14, 2012  

Oh. My.

My grandfather was a real estate agent in Toronto in the 60s. He just recently told us the story of the time he was showing a house and opened the coat closet only to have a monkey screech and jump out into his arms! He said the house absolutely reeked of urine.

Sorry! I'm kind of corroborating!

These comments make it sound like they were almost as common as a hamster or guinea pig! Hah!

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Need words? I'm a Toronto-based freelance writer who injects great ones into blogs, websites, magazines, ads and more. So many services, one lovely Jen (with one 'n').

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