Here’s a Prell ad from the 50s. Note that the bottle is much smaller than today’s shampoo bottles. Also note that the bottle has almost a barbell shape, to allow a good grip in the shower (or perhaps more likely in those days, bathtub).
Bought before you were born, I’d imagine. I’ve been an “adult” for 26 years, and I’ve always bought Band-Aids in cardboard boxes. The metal ones I remember were from when I was probably gradeschool age.
ETA: I seem to recall a period in the '80s when Band-Aids came in plastic flip-top boxes as well.
And also consider that bathtubs were almost universally coated cast iron, not fiberglass…
That’s probably the way they prefer it. The makers do NOT want you to refill your bottle from the drinking fountain & reuse it, they want you to throw it away and buy another one.
Their latest tactic to fight this re-use habit of consumers is to push TV stations to have their ‘investigative reporter’ do an alarming story on how unsanitary & germ-ridden plastic bottles get when re-used. A lot of Fox network stations have been doing these stories. Of course, it’s mostly scare tactics – they don’t do any realistic comparison to the amount of germs on a drinking fountain, or a paper cup, or even a glass from your kitchen cupboard.
That looks like a hotel shampoo bottle!
In the not-so-distant past, wasn’t it more common for women to wash their hair in the kitchen sink rather than in the bathtub or shower? The house I grew up in didn’t have a shower, and my mom washed her hair in the sink. Even after they moved to the burbs, into a house with a shower, she still washed her hair in the kitchen sink. It seemed anachronistic when I visited the 'rents and saw dish detergent and shampoo by the kitchen sink.
IIRC, Band Aid tins were around into the 1980s and 1990s. I think there was a very short time, maybe a couple of years, when they were plastic. After that, it was just cardboard.
I was a child of the 1970s. During that time, all brands of bandages were in tins, even the cheap store brands. I think sometime in the late 1970s or early 1980s, Curad and other off-brands switched to cardboard boxes, while Band Aid remained in tins.
Seriously? People used to make regular trips to a potato chip factory for refills?
My grandma washed her hair in the sink, I think. And ISTR my mom washing her hair in the sink when I was younger. I think I may have, too… Or maybe I’m remembering a bath in the sink when I was really little? I definitely remember washing just my hair leaning over the tub, so it’s possible a bunch of memories are all melting together.
I think that in the years before packaging that allowed the product to stay fresh over the long term, things like potato chips were manufactured on a more local level, even when they carried a major brand name, as opposed to today’s method of a handful of large manufacturing facilities that ship out to the smaller distributors.
Heh. I was going to say I was sure while growing up that Frito-Lay was headquartered in my city because that’s where they made the chips. According to their Wikipedia page, they do indeed have a manufacturing facility there (Vancouver, WA), but the company is actually located in Plano, TX. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that at one time there were a lot of small local or regional brands where you could indeed go right to the factory.
Women used to not wash their hair so much, either - many women never washed their own hair and just went to the weekly hair appointment. Actually, I just learned that many black women still do that - news to me! My coworker just told me yesterday that she doesn’t even own shampoo.
“No-poo” is a thing even among people of mainly European ancestry.
Given the harsh soaps, thick hairsprays and generous backcombing/teasing that went into some of those hairstyles, that was probably a good thing. If they’d washed their hair everyday, it’d break.
Well, yeah, but that’s not for the same reason. My grandma swam (or, well, did water aerobics) but never, ever, EVER put her head under the water.
As far as I remember, there was a potato chip factory in our town, and Dad would just take the empty can along if he was going to that end of town anyway. They were damned fine chips, I can tell you. Chips were a much more local product in those days, at least in Pennsylvania, which still has an unusually high density of salty-snack-food companies. It’s possible that some brands of chips had a return-for-deposit system for their cans, as was still common for soda and beer bottles at that time - I don’t remember that.
Of course, supermarkets also carried bags of potato chips. The bags were mostly waxed paper - I remember one brand advertised that they used foil bags that let no light in, which they claimed was the secret to keeping chips fresh. Now, of course, all chips come in an opaque container of some sort.
Regarding the potato chip cans, I remember Charles Chips being sold like this in the 1990s.
The last time I was at a Cracker Barrel restaurant, they had Charles Chips in cans in the souvenir shop area.
My daughter buys milk from an organic dairy farmer, who uses glass bottles…and she pays a deposit on each bottle, which is refunded when she brings the bottle back.
I have a gazillion empty prescription bottles, which I use to store craft supplies. I peel the labels off first. Ask on Freecycle for empty prescription bottles, or empty baby food jars. Or store them in the little zipseal plastic bags, which you can keep in a drawer or large bin.
Oberweis Dairy is huge here, even in chain grocery stores.
My mom (born in '48) looked a little confused when I asked her why she washed her hair in the sink. She doesn’t deny that she did/does, but she isn’t sure why. Her best guess is that so many of the hair treatments and conditioners of her childhood were kitchen items like mayonnaise, eggs, oil, lemon juice, etc., that she and her girlfriends simply got into the habit of doing their hair in the kitchen!
Well it’s for sure a way more efficient use of water.
When I was a kid in the late 60s/early 70s, I remember a company called Charles Chips (although we used to call it “CharlieChip”) that had large metal tins of chips, pretzels, and cookies. The delivery guy would come to the house, deliver whatever my mother had ordered; then two weeks later, he’d come back with our new order and take away the empty tins. The tins were large, maybe 2-gallon size (I’m guessing, they were at least twice the size of a gallon of paint) and kept the chips from getting crushed. And they had the world’s best chocolate cookies.