The woman who runs the Facebook page and YouTube channel "June Cleavers Vintage Closet" shares vintage fashion and vintage recipes and has cultivated a community of folks interested in the cool, weird, and wacky clothes and foods from days gone by. On her Facebook page, she writes:
Welcome to my page. We have fun here. We are kind to each other here. A good sense of humor is always welcome. Try not to take posts too literally or too seriously. Enjoy the vintage. I share ALL decades here. Not just the 1950s and certainly not just June Cleaver. The apostrophe is missing on purpose. It's how I typed it when I started the page a few years ago – which started off a little different and has since grown and evolved. Much like people do. Sit back, relax, laugh, and enjoy the vintage posts and culinary shenanigans. Enjoy some new friendships and converse with fellow vintage enthusiasts. For those of you who already do, it's a breath of fresh air. Thank you for being here.
I love perusing the cool (and weird!) finds she shares, but the content I find the most entertaining are videos where she cooks vintage recipes (which go heavy on gelatin) and uses her husband as the guinea pig. His reactions when confronted with each jiggly, brightly colored, or bizarre creation are hilarious. Here are some I found particularly funny:
Monterey soufflé salad. Mr. Cleaver's review: "It's like pickled assholes. . . Even the cucumber tastes like shit!"
Meat-filled vegetable ring. Mr. Cleaver's review: "This is awful. This is god-awful."
Spinach and sardine mold. Mr. Cleaver's review: "I don't know what the shit that is." "Aw man, I'm scared." [After spitting it out]: "What in the hell is that?"
Ham and banana hollandaise rolls. "I don't like bananas."
For more, check out June Cleavers Vintage Closet Facebook page ("Take a scroll down memory lane with your Queen of Forgotten Cuisine. Food, fashion, fun & nostalgia") and YouTube channel ("Join me on a fantastic vintage journey where vintage food and fashion collide").
Previously: Revolting food adverts from the land food-stylists forgot
