We start with some stately pre-war grace. This kind of image makes me think of Natalie Wood in Miracle on 34th Street.
Look at these hip, young people communicating. Now I want some eggnog.
Now on to something that really puts the cheer in the holiday...
...as if you were hoping to make your children juvenile delinquents for Christmas.
Here little Jane and Billy are admiring the fine Christmas gift that will last for years. And they are not even remotely juvenile delinquents. their parents heeded the warning from Life magazine last Christmas.
As we move out of the 1940s into the 1950s the obligatory weird cute/ugly elf makes an appearance. This time, he is shilling a tombstone keyed Royal portable. I can't entirely tell, but is this a new version of Royal's portable?
Now, an advert from September:
I know Santa is magical. That has been made very clear. If Santa is so magical, why is he carrying a typewriter around and sweating? Wiggle your nose and be done with it! Also, that belt Ms. Claus bought Santa is too small. Is she telling him something?
Santa hat and a typewriter. Genius! Don't over-think it!
Does this look like an angel is loitering and an elf-woman is being mugged? Merry Christmas!
Look at these hip, young people communicating. Now I want some eggnog.
Does it seem like those four fake Santas and one real Santa are judging Royal's manufacturing? I mean, Litton-era typewriters are nothing exciting. Even the copywriter couldn't muster an overtly positive thing to say about a Litton Royal. "The people who make a variety of good portables." Good portables. Not: great, fantastic, rugged, precision, or quality. Good. Maybe Litton outsourced the copy writing to Portugul along with Sabres.
That was fun. Now, I hope that there is a typewriter under your tree this Christmas.
