Time Capsule
My daughter has been cleaning her room these days, and she has found a time capsule. Well, not really, but it seems like it. She has unearthed stuff from years ago, including a catalog from autumn/winter, 1993-1994. It's a catalog from the German business, Quelle, and I must have received it after ordering something from another, earlier catalog. I do remember buying some clothes from them years ago. My daughter must have had that catalog since she was a little girl, and used it like I used to use an old Sears catalog.
I had no need for video games, tablets, cell phones, or other electronic diversions when I was a child. I had an old Sears catalog from God-knows-where, an old mail-order catalog my mother picked up from the trash in her office-cleaning job, and the sales flyers from the Sunday newspapers. The last, I picked up from the first floor apartment, when the tenants left the old papers by their door, ready to give to the garbage men on Thursdays.
I would pore over the catalogs and pick out clothes, appliances, and, especially, toys. I would cut out the illustrations from the flyers and make up stories with them. If they were black and white silhouettes, I would color them in with crayons from my big Crayola box. My most vivid memories are of peasant-style 70's dresses, with lots of elastic and loose fabric; boat necks that could easily become off-the-shoulder looks by pulling down the elasticized neckline. Also, the brightly-colored toy collection of the mail-order catalog. I remember the catalog was hard-cover and had an illustration of a diamond on the front cover with a dark background. The Sears catalog is not as vivid. It must have been ancient by then, too.
Now, few houses, if any, have an old catalog to delight a young child with its illustrations and pictures. Now, the young child most certainly has a tablet with games that roll out a pre-written story that leave the child little room to imagine their own stories and their denouements. Quelle was to Spain, France, and especially Germany, the Sears catalog of its time. You could find it at almost any house you called at. It was the mail-order business of Germany since the 1920's, with only a disruption at the end of the Second World War. At the end of the 1990's, it merged with another company and created a holding company, Arcandor, that went bankrupt in 2009, thanks to the recession.
But that was when internet was in its infancy. Until the beginning of this century, mail-order buying was king of long-distance shopping. I also had LL Bean catalogs once upon a time, and ordered from them. A Spanish catalog was Venca, which I believe still sends out paper catalogs, but I bet makes most sales online. La Redoute, a French company, still also sends out catalogs, but is now encouraging people to buy online.
Looking through the old Quelle catalog, I was taken back in time, by the fashions, and the prices, still in pesetas. One of the most expensive items was a long coat, 65% wool, at 11,950 pesetas. That would exchange into about 71 euros. Among the cheapest were a pack of six panties at 1495 pesetas, or about 8.90 euros. But the catalog also had men's and children's clothes, and some stuff for the house, like shower curtains, cutlery, towels, tablecloths, coffeemakers, irons, and even their own version of the Sony Walkman.
The fashions were a step back in the past. My daughter has been digging up some of my old clothes from before I was married. She fits into them, though they still have a little room to spare. Some of the clothes she dug up brought back memories. When I looked at her wearing the smallest-sized pants I had ever had, I remembered wearing them. "I fit in that?" She laughed and asked, "What happened to change that?" "I had you," was my reply. It's true. Motherhood changed my body back to the chubby me. The clothes I had ordered years ago from the Quelle catalog belonged to the thinner me.
Now I can't wait to see what history capsule my daughter will dig up in the other half of her room.
I had no need for video games, tablets, cell phones, or other electronic diversions when I was a child. I had an old Sears catalog from God-knows-where, an old mail-order catalog my mother picked up from the trash in her office-cleaning job, and the sales flyers from the Sunday newspapers. The last, I picked up from the first floor apartment, when the tenants left the old papers by their door, ready to give to the garbage men on Thursdays.
I would pore over the catalogs and pick out clothes, appliances, and, especially, toys. I would cut out the illustrations from the flyers and make up stories with them. If they were black and white silhouettes, I would color them in with crayons from my big Crayola box. My most vivid memories are of peasant-style 70's dresses, with lots of elastic and loose fabric; boat necks that could easily become off-the-shoulder looks by pulling down the elasticized neckline. Also, the brightly-colored toy collection of the mail-order catalog. I remember the catalog was hard-cover and had an illustration of a diamond on the front cover with a dark background. The Sears catalog is not as vivid. It must have been ancient by then, too.
Now, few houses, if any, have an old catalog to delight a young child with its illustrations and pictures. Now, the young child most certainly has a tablet with games that roll out a pre-written story that leave the child little room to imagine their own stories and their denouements. Quelle was to Spain, France, and especially Germany, the Sears catalog of its time. You could find it at almost any house you called at. It was the mail-order business of Germany since the 1920's, with only a disruption at the end of the Second World War. At the end of the 1990's, it merged with another company and created a holding company, Arcandor, that went bankrupt in 2009, thanks to the recession.
But that was when internet was in its infancy. Until the beginning of this century, mail-order buying was king of long-distance shopping. I also had LL Bean catalogs once upon a time, and ordered from them. A Spanish catalog was Venca, which I believe still sends out paper catalogs, but I bet makes most sales online. La Redoute, a French company, still also sends out catalogs, but is now encouraging people to buy online.
Looking through the old Quelle catalog, I was taken back in time, by the fashions, and the prices, still in pesetas. One of the most expensive items was a long coat, 65% wool, at 11,950 pesetas. That would exchange into about 71 euros. Among the cheapest were a pack of six panties at 1495 pesetas, or about 8.90 euros. But the catalog also had men's and children's clothes, and some stuff for the house, like shower curtains, cutlery, towels, tablecloths, coffeemakers, irons, and even their own version of the Sony Walkman. The fashions were a step back in the past. My daughter has been digging up some of my old clothes from before I was married. She fits into them, though they still have a little room to spare. Some of the clothes she dug up brought back memories. When I looked at her wearing the smallest-sized pants I had ever had, I remembered wearing them. "I fit in that?" She laughed and asked, "What happened to change that?" "I had you," was my reply. It's true. Motherhood changed my body back to the chubby me. The clothes I had ordered years ago from the Quelle catalog belonged to the thinner me.
Now I can't wait to see what history capsule my daughter will dig up in the other half of her room.
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