Ah, the first hint of fall is in the air. As a favorite line of poetry goes, “…the air was ripe apples and the colors chrysanthemum.”

But when I was 13, I knew autumn was around the corner when the Sears Roebuck fall catalog arrived.

As I’ve shared before, I must have been terribly insecure in who I was as a young girl, because I wanted to be someone else; someone polished and perfect. In the fall, I wanted to be the sophisticated Sears model wearing a sweater, long shorts, matching knee socks, and penny loafers. What an ideal that was to me! Yep…polished and perfect.

As a younger girl, I looked forward to receiving both the spring and fall “Big Book” because getting the new catalog meant I could have the old one for my own purposes. (No, not for toilet paper. I researched that and rural Americans stopped using Sears catalog pages as TP in the 1930s, long before I was even born, when Sears starting printing on glossy paper since that didn’t work as well.)

As a kid I built homes for my paper doll cutouts. Using grocery store cardboard boxes for the rooms, I glued catalog pictures of furniture and accessories to set up housekeeping for them.

Also, I was really in to baby dolls. My best friend Kathy and I had set up a play house in part of a large old shed at my grandmothers. Kathy and I kept a stack of catalog shots showing women in maternity clothes. We’d each choose one outfit and say, “I’m wearing THIS today.” Never mind that we didn’t know how a woman got in that condition. Nor did we ever say aloud the word pregnant. We’d simply make a mounding motion over our stomachs to indicate we were expecting. Times change, right?!

In 1933 the first special-for-Christmas catalog came out. It was officially renamed the “Wish Book” in 1968. By the early 2000s, the Wish Book was just a portion of the size of the original book.  I remember both my children pouring over the Wish Book. There was something magical about touching the paper to turn over the pages, flipping them back and forth, folding over the page to compare two items to decide which one was going to go at the top of your Christmas list. Now of course, the Wish Book is digital.

Sears even sold houses from catalogs between 1908 and 1940. It’s estimated that about 100,000 home kits were sold in that period. The actual name was Modern Homes, but they’re generally referred to now as Craftsman homes. My niece Allison lives in one, and it’s quite charming.

You know, I don’t recall our family ever actually ordering from the catalog, but maybe I was just oblivious. The Sears catalog history page didn’t mention whether or not you had to make regular purchases to continue receiving the semi-annual catalog.

In 1993 Sears stopped producing the Big Book catalog. I wish I had kept one, just for nostalgic reasons. I swear to you that I no longer pine to be that perfect and polished model. Nor do I want to be anyone but myself.

But hey, in researching for this post, I see that both knee socks and penny loafers are making a fashion comeback.

I’m just saying.

To my readers:  Do you have a favorite memory of the Sears Big Book?

http://theplumber.com/toiletpapershortagefun/