Friday Fun Links: Mail Order Novelties!

Hey, did you realize there are only 191 days left to April Fools’ Day, 2012? What better time to post a brief history of mail order novelties in America?

Actually, I’m not being entirely up-front with you, dear readers. The real reason I’m posting this edition of Friday Fun Links is that I stumbled across this wonderful article on novelty company H. Fishlove & Co. and its first runaway success — fake vomit. Here’s a fascinating fact: the co-inventor of the country’s original rubber vomit, Marvin Glass, also designed a number of the most beloved children’s toys and board games, including Mousetrap, Operation, Lite Brite (“Making Things With Light, Out of Sight!”), and the inimitable Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots. And here’s an article on the company that bought out H. Fishlove & Co. back in the 1980s, Fun, Inc., which continues to rely on the profits raked in by latex barf.

When I was growing up, way, way before Al Gore invented the Internet, the king of the mail order novelties companies was the Johnson Smith Company, in business since 1914 (and no, I was not ordering stuff from them while Sergeant York was mowing down the Kaiser’s soldiers in France). I spent many a pleasant, yuks-filled afternoon in an easy chair in my parents’ living room paging through the latest Johnson Smith Fun Catalog, imagining pulling pranks with all the stuff I’d never have the guts to ask my parents to buy for me — Exploding Gift Wrapped Pop Boxes, Remote Control Money Snatcher, Phony Blood, Life-Like Lady’s Legs to hang out of the back of Dad’s car’s trunk, or, my personal favorite, Bathroom “Parking” Meter.


Those of you who’d like to peruse the entirety of the Johnson Smith Company Fun Catalog #792 from 1979 in all its awesomeness can find a complete scan here. And for those of you who’d actually like to buy this stuff? The Johnson Smith Company is still in business, now with their catalog on the Internet (of course).

The main competitor to the Johnson Smith Company was the S. S. Adams Company, founded eight years before their rival, in 1906. They celebrated their hundredth year in business by issuing this beautifully illustrated book, Life of the Party–A Visual History of the S. S. Adams Company. Adams invented Cachoo, America’s first sneezing powder, and the Dribble Glass. Unfortunately for him, he took a pass on the Whoopie Cushion, feeling it was in poor taste. Smith Johnson didn’t think so, and they sold a bazillion of them.

Other classics? Here’s a history of the Shock Pen. And could this be a contender for a modern classic? Its name alone assures it a place in the history books.

One of my favorite mail-order novelties operations when I was a kid wasn’t a true catalog; it was the back ten or fifteen pages of any issue of Famous Monsters of Filmland. Aurora Model Kits always had ads in the back of Famous Monsters, hawking kits of Frankenstein’s Monster, the Mummy, Dracula, the Wolf Man, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon. But some of their niftiest kits were for Monster Hot Rods — you got to build a monster and a crazy Mustang or Model T! Famous Monsters also sold four or five minute Super-8 movie clips from pretty obscure or weird monster movies (I remember wondering what Yongary, Monster from the Deep could be like… a giant monster movie from Korea?). My dad had a Super-8 projector, and he bought some of these to show at my birthday slumber parties. Famous Monsters sold all kinds of great stuff… Don Post full-head vinyl masks, spooky sound effects records, superhero action figures, haunted glo-heads…

The art and science of the novelties catalog live on, online. Modern day successors to the Johnson Smith Fun Catalog and the S. S. Adams Catalog include the Archie McPhee Novelties Online Catalog and trendsetter ThinkGeek, purveyors of Canned Unicorn Meat. Mmmmm…. probably goes great with a nice white wine…

One last note, though. The stuff you actually got when you ordered from one of those catalogs or from an ad in a comic book could be a terrible let-down, especially for a ten year-old who’d been waiting weeks for his package to arrive. I actually ordered this from the inside of one of my comics:

Yes, indeed, it was life-size, as advertised. What they didn’t mention in the ad was that some species of bats have only a three-inch wingspan. That bit about the fangs being seven and a half inches long, though? That was simply a lie. They weren’t even seven and a half millimeters long. And all that stuff it was supposed to do at my command? Maybe if I’d attached a piece of elastic string to it, I suppose it could have “danced, jumped, floated in the air” and “rattled windows with terrifying, loud, creepy sounds!” But I was so disappointed when I opened the package, I didn’t bother. I think the tiny rubber bat went straight into a drawer in my desk. And the Free Horror Outfit? Don’t ask. It was more pathetic than the crap you could get from the ten cent novelties dispensers at the grocery store.


The crushing of dreams… Oh, well. At least I never ordered this from the back of a comic. Now, there would’ve been a let-down to top all let-downs…

4 comments

  1. Lori says:

    Yeah, the X-Ray Specs I ordered were a real let-down too. *sigh*

  2. Frank says:

    For those interested, we carry many of these mail-order novelties. Please stop by and visit!
    http://worldfamousmagic.com

  3. hatterasman says:

    When I was a kid in the 1960’s, I ordered a Johnson Smith catalog after seeing one of their ads in the back of a magazine. What a goldmine of cool stuff! Using my allowance, I ordered some “Cigarette Stinkers”, “Exploding Cigarette Loads”, and a “Resurrection Plant”. The fact that I was 12 years old and was allowed to order “Exploding Cigarette Loads” without question amazes me today, but it was not a big deal in the 1960’s. No parental permission was required. It would have spoiled the surprise for my Marlboro smoking dad. I got him first with a “Cigarette Stinker”. Both the “Stinkers” and the “Exploding Loads” came in small round tins, and upon inspection, they simply looked like 1/4″ pieces of toothpicks. Looks were deceiving though, as these tiny pieces of toothpicks were apparently soaked in some sort of chemicals that made them either explode or stink horribly when the cigarette was lit and puffed on a few times. My dad had no clue what was going on with the stinking cigarette and smashed it out in his ashtray next to his recliner, figuring it was a bad one that somehow got out of the Marlboro factory. Later that same day, however, while sitting at the kitchen table drinking his after dinner coffee, he lit up another cigarette, took two puffs, and it exploded in his face sending tobacco flying all over the table and into his coffee. He was not amused, not even a little bit, and he made that fact perfectly clear.

    The “Resurrection Plant” was also pretty cool. It came in a box looking like a dried up miniature tumbleweed, but after watering it for a few days, it indeed became “resurrected” and turned green and full of life. I had that thing for years in my bedroom. I ordered numerous other cool novelties from that Johnson Smith catalog as a child, (“World’s Smallest Camera”, “Amazing X-Ray Glasses”, “Mexican Jumping Beans”, “Joke Gum”) but none as memorable as those “Cigarette Stinkers” and “Exploding Cigarette Loads”. What a wonderful catalog it was for a 12 year old to get his hands on.

    • Andrew says:

      Wow! Thanks so much for the great post! It’s heartening to hear that at least some of that Johnson Smith catalog stuff actually worked. Have a great 2016!