Readin’ Writin’, 'Rithemtic and Hist'Ry Wednesday : Our_________ fit your __________

Join The Prude for an energetic sashay down memory lane. Don’t bother to lace up your cross trainers or your Shape Up sneakers or even your trusty tennis shoes.

What you really need on your great pair of legs are L’eggs Panty Hose.

(Special exemption for Male Readers)

About 40 ago, something fresh rolled onto the fashion scene and everyone scrambled to own it.

‘It’ was a pair of pantyhose crammed into an elliptical orb that looked like a plastic Easter Egg on steroids. ‘It’ was better known as the ‘L’eggs Egg’.

(I may have lost those of you under 30 at ‘pantyhose’. Since The Prude is on a word limit, you’ll have to research them on your own)

SIDE NOTE: The Prude thinks the L’egg’s theme song may have single-handedly done more damage to the pantyhose industry than tanning booths.

“Our L’eggs fit your legs. They hug you, they hold you, they never let you go.”

(If you are paying attention you see the Prude helped you fill in the title blanks)

Can you think of many things more downright terrifying than a pair of stockings that NEVER LET YOU GO?

Back to the egg they came in:

The marketing genius behind the plastic egg may not have realized the boon his brainchild was to the craft and storage industries. 

Books were written detailing dozens of creative uses.

Sunday School teachers asked mothers to save the eggs, which were reborn as mangers at Christmas, candy holders at Valentine’s Day, wrapped with yarn on Easter, and made into precarious plant holders on Mother’s Day. 

Eggs kept jewelry and nail polish organized for traveling women; children saved treasures in them.  And who can forget the shiny silver eggs?

Sadly, a whole new generation, that’s who.

By the end of the 1980’s, L’eggs went the way of another 1970’s iconic orb: 

the AMC Pacer. 

Because everyone knows that in the 1980’s, it was hip to be square.

The HoHo Conspiracy

Not a HoHo. The HoHos are no more.

A host of conspiracy theories walk among us. Did aliens crash in Roswell? Did they kidnap Elvis? And are they currently inhabiting the bodies of elected government officials? Maybe. But we have a bigger problem on our hands.

There was a time, in dim and rosy ‘70’s, when The Prude, finding herself somehow endowed with a spare quarter, would purchase a HoHo. Or a Cupcake. Or a Fruit Pie. (The Prude is afraid to use the brand name because They might be listening.)

Every bite was bliss. Real cherries peeked out of the crisp, glazed crust of the Fruit Pie. The creamy filling of the Cupcake was so dreamily creamy and filling. And every bit of stiff icing that fell from the HoHo was captured and savored.

Oh yes, my friends. The 70’s would not have been the same without the occasional but cherished consumption of HoHo’s, Cupcakes and Fruit Pies.

But the 70’s came to a screeching halt somewhere around 1979.

The Prude was now a college student and spare quarters were unheard of.

She evolved into a wife and mother and HoHo money went directly into mortgage payments and diapers.

The ‘90’s hit and so did burgeoning appetites of 3 boys, who were happy enough with the cheaper store brands of snack food.

But The Prude refused to sully her tastebuds with imitations.

She waited. Years passed. Aliens took over the music industry and collaborated with aliens in other countries to steal L’eggs eggs, cool Big Mac boxes and toys from cereal boxes.

And then it was 2011.

The Prude, trawling the corridors of her beloved Piggly Wiggly, found Shangi-La.

A shining and rosy sign proclaimed: ‘Buy 1 HoHo Box, get a Box of Cupcakes for Free’

Finally. Decades of waiting and forbearance and self control were paying off.

Recklessly The Prude snatched 1 HoHo box and its corresponding Free Cupcake Box. She remembered to pay, noting dimly that they no longer cost a quarter apiece.

But no matter! It is just money! She was about to relive her youth!

She hurried home. She put on a Partridge Family song, (‘I Think I Love You’)

She unwrapped her HoHo, placed her hand under the adorable little roll of cake and filling to catch any stray icing, and took a bite.

****

We will draw a merciful curtain over what happened next. It involved outrage, tears, and threats.

Suffice it to say that aliens have taken the original HoHo recipe. I think they gave it to Elvis.