"The Abominable Squeaks." So reads the copy of a 1960s-era magazine advertisement for Portage Porto-Ped Shoes. Four vignettes by the formidable Madmagazine artist Wallace Wooddepict the untold embarrassment of being the man whose shoes make too much noise. The bridegroom advancing nervously down the aisle, the doctor making night shift rounds on the hospital ward, the game hunter stealthily seeking his prey, even the zookeeper failing to mind his oversized charge—none are spared the indignity of these "abominable squeaks."
The shoes are now priced from $29.95 to $34.95, with the lower-end shoes more expensive than what was quoted in the, presumably earlier, 1967 pair of ads we saw in yesterday's post. Those, of course, were illustrated by The New Yorker'sWilliam Steig. Wood is the only cartoonist I have found other than Steig who contributed to these Porto-Ped ads and this single page is the only example I have located for him. But there could be others.
Wallace Wood The Abominable Squeaks. 1960's-era advertisement for Portage Porto-Ped Shoes
Note: As my sneakers silently convey me through the lands of vintage advertising and illustration, I am eager to hear of additional cartoon ads by Wallace Wood, William Steig, or perhaps others from this Portage Porto-Ped Shoes campaign.
In yesterday's post, we saw a single cartoon copper tray featuring a drawing by New Yorker cartoonist William Steig to promote the National Shoe Institute in 1951. So far as we know, that was his sole contribution to the advertising campaign. But it was not his final venture into the world of shoe marketing.
In 1967, Steig made at least two drawings for a print ad campaign for the Portage Shoe Company's line of Porto-Ped shoes. That year comes from paper sellers who reveal as little as possible about the magazines from which they removed their ads. Thus titles and publication dates are not included. For what it's worth, I have not found these ads in The New Yorker.
The copy reads "If everyone's walk were a little peculiar, we wouldn't have to make such good shoes." The good shoes are priced at $19.95 to $34.95 in both ads. Inflation in the ensuing decades has since driven up prices by an average of 3.98% annually, or about 900% total, putting the shoes' retail cost at $199.45 to $349.41 in today's dollars. No wonder they could afford William Steig.
William Steig "If everyone's walk weren't a little peculiar, we wouldn't have to make such good shoes." 1967 advertisement for Portage Porto-Ped Shoes
In 2023, the Charles Addams memorabilia specialist Joel Jacobus informed us here of a series of advertisements on copper trays promoting Cole of California swimwear. The trays were manufactured by Bernäd Creations with cartoons by The New Yorker's Addams, Sam Cobean, and Syd Hoff. The trays themselves are undated, but the Hoff example was specifically mentioned in a 1951 newspaper article.
This year, Joel informed me of another vintage advertising tray he came upon featuring art by New Yorker cartoonist William Steig. The client is the National Shoe Institute and there is only one tray design known thus far. The manufacturer is again Bernäd Creations, who used Steig illustrations on other cartoon trays and cigarette boxes for commercial sale to the general public, but these decidedly were not advertising.
Joel notes that the shoe institute tray appears to be from approximately the same time period as the Cole of California cartoon trays. "So far," he writes, "I can't find any other artists associated with it. The Steig image is of a man lying in a giant shoe with the caption, 'Can’t I just stay here tonight?'" Below that is the copy "National Shoe Institute.”
Joel continues:
The first mention of The National Shoe Institute that I can find is from 1948 in the New York Times. There were National Shoe Fairs in Chicago from at least 1938 through 1968.
He further speculates that this tray "might have been a promotional item at the National Shoe Fair." Steig's illustration appeared in his book The Rejected Lovers, which sets the date of the tray to approximately 1951. (That's the same year as the newspaper piece noting the Hoff tray.)
The Steig copper tray is green and is currently listed on eBay:
William Steig National Shoe Institute Copper Tray eBay listing accessed August 31, 2026
William Steig National Shoe Institute Copper Tray eBay item description
The New York Times Magazine excerpted nine of the Steig book's drawings in its October 14, 1951 Sunday issue, the week prior to its publication. Under the title "On Man's Misery—Love," an uncredited author writes, "The hero of the work is man at his most pitiful. The villain is woman, who seems to combine the features of Goldilocks, a six-foot chorus girl and Lizzie Borden."
"On Man's Misery—Love" Excerpts from The Rejected Lovers by William Steig The New York Times Magazine, Sunday, October 14, 1951
Note: My thanks as always to Joel Jacobus for finding this rare tray, for recognizing its uniqueness, and for feeling compelled to research the National Shoe Institute just as thoroughly as he formerly researched Bernäd Creations and Cole of California. Hats off to you, Joel, and shoes too.
The archives of Duke University libraries have a campus promotion from the National Shoe Institute for 1949 which identifies the advertising agency as J. Walter Thompson.
I would so appreciate hearing from anyone with more information about this seemingly small advertising campaign. This might include other cartoon copper trays from the promotion with drawings by William Steig or perhaps other cartoonists. Other advertising campaigns that appeared on Bernäd trays would also be of interest.
In The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest #1003 from the issue of August 24 & 31, 2026, a couple at a black tie event observe a popsicle who is attending as well, drink in hand, melting. The man speaks. My submission is shown below. The drawing is by Elisabeth McNair.
"He could at least wear a towel."
These captions ended up all over the place:
"He can't handle the social pressure." "Would it kill him to wear pants?" "Damn global warming."
This past March, I visited the illustrator John Cuneo's online shop or "bodega," as he calls it. I purchased a sketchbook page based on a favorite comic book and television hero of my youth. The drawing is simply titled Batman. The artist describes him as "A husky Batman poised for action, accompanied by pets." The character was very important to me back in the day and, apparently, still is.
The Angel of Inspiration is a title provided by the Chris Beetles Gallery for a cover submission to The New Yorker by Ronald Searle. The original art looks as if it dates from the early 1960s, a time when Searle already had established himself as one of the star cartoonists of Punch but before his first successful New Yorker cover appeared in 1969. The inspiring angel has inadvertently caused ink to spatter over a beatnik's manuscript. Creative people may well relate to this.
Ronald Searle Chris Beetles listing accessed December 31, 2022
This work was first exhibited by Chris Beetles in 2020 with no indication from the gallery of its likely date or intended purpose. It was priced at 6,500 GBP. It has since been sold, apparently fairly recently.
I call it a New Yorker cover submission because of the telltale strap running vertically down the left side of the artwork. My basis for dating it to the early 1960's is a different Searle drawing, this one with collage elements. It appeared in a 1961 number of Punch and I believe it to be very comparable in style. It features a very similar color palette and a very similar beatnik; therefore I assign it to a similar date.
"Are you sure this is Chris Barber's place?" Ronald Searle and George du Maurier Punch, July 19, 1961
In June, a Canadian bookseller offered a copy of Seth's 2009 opus George Sprott (1894-1975) with an original drawing. The listing showed only the usual stock photo. It's frustrating when this happens, but I have a history of purchasing books Sight Unseen, a gamble that often pays off, but not always. Thus I pursued this volume on the promise of something potentially wonderful, yet unvisualized, inside. The $60 price inclusive of shipping made this one seem a no-brainer. The seller, as it happens, felt remorse over another Seth book I ordered at the same time that proved unavailable and ended up sending this to me free of charge. That doesn't happen very often despite my good nature.
The book did indeed hold an original drawing by the artist. Every copy of this book I have previously shown on the blog had a drawing of the title character. This one, to my surprise, has a delightful drawing of young Daisy Sprott, George's niece. On all counts, I'm going to call this addition to the library a win.
Charles M. Schulz began his Peanuts comic strip in 1950 and in 1952 published the first of what would come to be many collections. It was simply named Peanuts. A copy of a later printing of the first edition is signed by Schulz and includes an original drawing of the character Schroeder in profile accompanied by a trio of hand-drawn musical notes. It's evident that Schulz's rendering of Schroeder evolved quite a bit from the time he drew the cover illustration. This splendid volume is offered by Raptis Rare Books of Palm Beach for $4,000. There is still plenty of time for some lucky music or comics lover to get it before Beethoven's birthday.
Another monthly contest already? The CartoonStock Caption Contest number 209 is set in a laboratory where an ape is perhaps doomscrolling on his cell phone while a pair of researchers looks on. The man in the lab coat is speaking. The cartoonist is Kaamran Hafeez.
The monthly cash prize contest has new rules which I seem compelled to repeat: Five dollars will still buy up to three entries but now three additional dollars can optionally buy a fourth entry, and so on and so forth. Real cash prizes are fifty percent of the total prize pool (previously $500, but more this month) for first place and ten percent of the prize pool (previously $100) for each of five runners up. As of this writing, I've put $270 into the first fifty-four pay-to-play contests and this fifty-fifth challenge brings my total cash outlay up to $275. Having achieved runner-up status with three previous cash prize entries, I've collected $300 from CartoonStock, so I'm still playing with the house's money, at least for the time being. Because the contest is no longer subsidized by cash from the vast coffers of CartoonStock, the contest's odds should now be just a little less favorable, I think. The prize pool, as I prepared my captions in the final hour before the deadline—when else would I enter?—was, as I've already hinted, securely above that old thousand dollar level.
So here is my big chance to redeem myself after last month's poor showing. My three entries are shown above the break. There is a fourth caption which is somewhat meta. I considered paying another $3 to put it out there, but then I thought better of it.
"As our new lab assistant, it will be your job to take it away from him." "We can't get him off Truth Social." "Frankly, we have no idea what Caesar is up to." * * * "I wish he had joined that barbershop quartet instead."
I'm afraid that last caption doesn't stand on its own. It should be an easily-recognized reference to The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest #1002 which had its deadline on Monday night. If you know, you know. I saved my $3 because he's an ape, not a monkey.
In The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest #1002 from the issue of August 17, 2026, four monkeys sing in a barbershop quartet while two laboratory workers observe them through glass. The older woman speaks. My submission is shown below. The drawing is by Benjamin Schwartz.
"So you found them at the bottom of the barrel?"
These captions were not in tune:
"They're swell. You and I are no longer in harmony." "Run your next project by me first." "Great job. We've been defunded."
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