friday flashback: when beauty reigned in the subways

From 1941 to 1977, little girls rattling underground on their way to school or to Grandma's uptown, dreamed of being Miss Subways. The contest was sponsored by an ad agency set up for the purpose, called (what else) New York Subways Advertising. Applicants had to be aged 14 to 30, New York City residents and subway riders themselves. They sent their photos and bios to John Powers, a top modeling agent. The lucky winner had her face, along with a blurb about her life and ambitions, plastered in every car of the IND, IRT and BMT for a month. 

Interestingly, the posters reflected the rise and fall of women in the workplace. When civilian women were critical to the work force during WW2, December 1942's Miss Subways "aims to be a doctor as good as her dad" but by June 1950, her "fondest hope is a trip to Bermuda." Then the 60s came along and Miss Subways (pictured) is described as "young, beautiful, and expert with a rifle." 

Ellen Sturm, Miss Subways in 1959, owns Ellen's Stardust Diner where many of the posters are preserved and displayed. (It's where I found this one.) Would that these vintage cards still hung in trains to provide respite from ads hawking cures for bunions or hemorrhoids.

Are you, by chance, a former Miss Subways? If so, Fiona Gardner wants to picture you in her forthcoming book.

subway tip

Say it's late at night and you are on the subway. You're a small woman with a big purse you regret you are carrying. Why did you bring a big purse late at night on the subway. Why are you on the subway at all? It is late at night. You should be in a cab. Curse your lack of patience for waving your gloveless hand in the cold. How do you keep crazy people from sitting near you--the bible-ranters, the garbage-eaters, the woman wearing three coats who smells like pee, the menacing-looking man stepping into the car, fixing his eyes, for some reason, on you. Here is the answer: look crazy yourself. Remember that piece of string that's been at the bottom of your big purse for months? Fish it out. Put it between your lips. Let it dangle. And/or roll up a magazine and beat yourself on the head. No one will want to sit next to you. You get a row of seats to yourself. And peace of mind. Priceless.