Vintage Seventeen Magazines

Some mysteries were solved when I started looking at a few of my vintage copies of Seventeen Magazine. Mysteries about why my taste is what it is — or more like — what it isn’t.

I have several issues from 1971-75. Which may or may not be when someone you know was in high school. Samples below. Click on the copy for a better view if you’re nosy.


So, you’re trying to figure out what to do with your hair one morning before school in 1971.
Any one of these would be NO problem! Simple and natural.

And might I mention, who DESIGNED this page?
Your paste-up is showing.
It looks like a placemat I made my mom for Christmas in third grade with family photos.


This was the Christmas issue.
Trust me, my Christmas cookies did NOT make me the talk of the town.
Some other stuff they don’t mention here did though, I think.



I did spend hours dreaming of enchanting lands.
That’s why I couldn’t afford Faberge at $15.



Is it just me, or does this chick looked stoned out of her gourd?
And about thirty years old?
Love Cosmetics, Havoc, Jovan–these were the BOMB!
But we didn’t say that then.
And Mary Quandt — don’t get me started.



I DID wear a sweater over my overalls, just like this.
Note the basic lack of any organic fibers. Synthetics were all the rage.


So these bimbos have taken over some radio station,

and all HELL is breaking loose.
They look like badasses, too.
The girls in knee socks were the ones you had to keep your eye on.


Nothing says luxury like plastic furniture and electronics.
I had a clock radio just like this.
But I couldn’t imagine how cool it’d be to have a personal TV, especially such a tiny one!

The oversized stuffed carrot on the top shelf leaves me wondering.




Don’t forget your Hanes with your shortshorts, for heaven’s sake.

Dear copywriter: you maybe should have re-considered that
“SHEER HEEL” in all caps thing.
Reads as “SHEER HELL” at first glance.
Which is a more apt description of panty hose, as it turns out.
This ad creeps me out in every way.
What the HEEL is it supposed to be? A cocoon? A pod? I’m lost.
Maybe it’s a bird, her hair has a definite bird vibe.
This whole deal screams free love somehow.
And “pantyhose” is singular? Hm.


Tune into all the new ideas. Forget uptight rules.
That’s right, take the afghan right off your granny and whip it into a pair of shorts.
Don’t forget your tights.
Then, never mind all those hair styles we just showed you up above.

We changed our minds. Just whack your hair off.
It’s all groovy and revolutionary.

Sheesh. No wonder I still can’t figure out exactly what I should be wearing.
NOTHING made sense during my formative years.

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