TRADING CARDS :: Valentines from the 80s and 90s

To those who know me well (which may perhaps be some of you dear readers) know that, for me, February is a cursed month. Some are aware of it just enough to play it off as a running joke, but for those truly in the know, its folklore is understood as the dark magic that it clearly is. And most years all of this misfortune funnels right into the middle - February 14, Valentine's Day, which also happens to be my birthday, so it does very much feel like a personal attack that's somehow written in the stars. I began to dread this month until I finally arrived at a numb acceptance; now, year after year, I am but merely an empty vessel, hibernating, living inside myself, waiting for the warm weather. Please leave a message. 

And that brings us to now. Present day. I am awake and lucid and ready to embrace the other reality that, once upon a time, I absolutely adored February; I had no reason not to, I got a week off from school, probably played in some snow, and I was guaranteed a bounty of birthday presents. It was like Christmas II for a while there which, believe me, is no kinda frivolous analogy; the gap between Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny is a disorienting free fall through a cold, dark abyss, so a holiday rooted in chocolate and love and warm hues should feel entirely medicinal. Unless you're cursed. But we're ignoring that for a minute, because 1. I could use a break from the existential horrors, and 2. we have business to discuss. And that business is the exchange of colorful cardboard valentines. 

Handing out little bits of ephemera to your grade school classmates is apparently still a practice in more enlightened parts of the globe. And if I remember correctly, the best part wasn't handing them out, or even receiving them, but deciding exactly which brand of valentine best represented you; "That's right, when people see Tommy Pickles, I want them to think of me." (Of course there was always a 100% chance someone else felt the same way. But I guess that's how you find a soulmate). I amassed maybe hundreds of these during my school years - little pop culture portraits telling me how "rad" I was - as my mother saved just about every piece of paper I brought home from school, "just in case". Then, once I'd reached the age of consuming pointless nostalgia, I'd found that she had thrown them out. Believe me when I say I held no grudges, it was totally understandable that she was unable to see the value in a buncha first-grader scribblings alongside pictures of Papa Smurf and Rainbow Brite. But as you read this, I know that you goddamn know the value in such treasures. Thankfully for everyone I've been working lo these many years to try and set the universe straight by getting some of these valentines back - in mint condition, no less! 

Yes yes, between flea markets and internet auctions I've managed to obtain sealed boxes of unassigned valentines, never touched by human hands. Until today. That's right, kids, I've opened some boxes and pulled my favorites from each set to share with you because we are gonna attempt to celebrate the Valentine's Season like we used to - like it was meant to be. Hope you love me as much as I love you.

- Paul

THE CALIFORNIA RAISINS -- Cleo, 1988

Sometimes The Raisins had pink eyelids, but when they had teal eyelids, the cosmos was in harmony; that exact shade of blue alongside that exact shade of maroon was so important to me as a child. I couldn't explain it then, and it would feel like some kinda betrayal if I were to try and explain it now so let's just enjoy the pretty colors (which is what this holiday is mostly about). I will say that my grownup mind is interpreting every element of this card as an invitation to a threesome (which is also what this holiday is about). 

THE SIMPSONS -- Cleo, 1994

Even as late as 1994 they were still using this crude artwork that was everywhere ca. the shows's second season in 1990 (Bart with a blue shirt, etc.). But this card is just a plain travesty -- never in the show's early history do I recall Martin Prince having feelings for Lisa. Even if you have peripheral Simpsons knowledge then you'd be aware of the missed opportunity to include Ralph Wiggum here as a direct reference to the "I Love Lisa" episode that premiered in February of '93. Guys, we were so close here.

TOY STORY -- Hallmark

I don't know exactly what year these are from; there's no numerical indication that it's one of the sequels but the cards are entirely focused on Buzz and the green aliens. In any case I'm not a huge fan of this artwork; the whole point of this exercise is to not be a curmudgeon but this rigid depiction is ignoring the soft inviting curves that these movies are built upon. Though once again the 17-year-old me can't help but read this as a sexual overture. 

WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT -- Cleo, 1989

Why yes, I could've absolutely blessed this list with an amazing image of Jessica Rabbit - there were actually several from which to choose. But no, I've instead gone with Benny the Cab - one, because he's sort of an unsung hero in this giant cast of characters, and two because I wanna shine a light on the dreaded "teacher valentine"; regardless if they were a good teacher or a particularly crummy teacher I always felt shy expressing these kindsa feelings for some adult I barely knew. And thirdly, it struck me how weird this image would've been to some teacher who hadn't seen the movie. 

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES -- Grand Award, 1990

This was the toughest to choose. There were plenty depicting April, Splinter, and the four Turtles, there was a particularly sweet one with Rocksteady and Bebop, and one head-scratcher featuring a lone portrait of Leatherhead (who you'll recall is a villainous Cajun alligator). But even more bizarre than that is this awkward exchange between Michelangelo and The Rat King - a sewer-dwelling cross between Darkman and The Toxic Avenger who acts as a sort of pied piper of (what else?) rats. Very rarely a friend to the Turtles (and clearly a lot less hygienic) his inclusion on a symbol of camaraderie and/or romance is best summed up by its clumsy message: "Whoa! Happy Valentine's Day!"