This month’s cover story relays the history of outhouses, those quiet but stinky outdoor private places where everyone did their business in the 19th century.

First, however, I’d like to fast-forward through time to the mid-20th century, a time when tackiness could be found in every room of one’s house, from aspic in the refrigerator to shag carpet in the living room. The bathroom wasn’t spared from trends on which we now can look back and laugh, either. Conversely, some of the bathroom trends with which you grew up are ones you may remember fondly.
Good or bad, here are a few trends you might recall:

Carpet: Like nearly everything made since the Industrial Revolution, as the volume of carpet produced rose, its price soon saw a dip. In the postwar era, carpet production boomed, and American families in the suburbs snatched it up as it became more affordable. Despite its new affordability, however, carpets seemed to convey luxury and comfort.

Sometime during the 1960s, wall-to-wall carpeting in one’s bathroom became a desirable option – heightened risk of mold growth be damned. By the 1970s, shag carpeting had made its way onto toilet lids and even toilet seats as well (I shudder with revulsion at the thought, don’t you?). The garish trend finally died out during the 1980s. And speaking of which:

Padded toilet seats:

Most sources seem to agree that David Harrison invented these in 1993, though I’ve always thought they were older. Maybe that’s because my grandparents had them in every bathroom of their house. I can still hear the pppfffttttt sound the seats made when I sat on them.

Colored toilet paper: Who wants to wipe their tuchus with boring white toilet paper when mint green toilet paper exists? It was one of a rainbow of pastel colors in which toilet paper was made. The 20-year period between the 1950s and the 1970s saw the use of toilet paper in colors such as pink, blue, green, brown, and another shade of brown. In the ‘70s, however, doctors warned of the dangers of the dyes found in these colorful rolls, and the paper was summarily flushed away, lost to time.

Everyone knows there are two types of people: Those who crave sugary snacks, and those who would prefer something salty instead.

I’ve always fallen into the latter category — bring on the sodium chloride! As a child, at the dinner table, I would try to heavily salt my food, only to be stopped by my parents (thank goodness!). Now, as an adult, I still love salt, but I’ve been successful in finding healthful alternatives to it when seasoning my food.

Our bodies need salt – all of us, both humans and animals. Salt has been used to bring out the flavor in our food for millennia – long before recorded history (it’s done wonders for what we drink, too – sprinkling a dash of salt in your mug of beer will decrease the bitter taste of an IPA). Of course, in addition to being edible, its story is sprinkled with fascinating factoids.

The first recorded mention of salt

The first recorded mention of salt can be traced back to 2700 BCE in China. Cultures the world over valued salt due to its scarcity. Before the advent of the refrigerator, rubbing salt into cuts of meat helped to preserve them aboard merchant ships during journeys overseas. The only rock that we eat, salt also was used as currency in the ancient world (‘salt,’ in fact, is the root of the word ‘salary’). Salt remained important to both our dishes and our economies, being used in everything from agriculture to the roads on which we walk. In the New World, Native Americans made salt from brine springs. Large-scale production of salt began during the Civil War.

This issue of Discover Vintage America will present decades of vintage NASA collectibles, which have chronicled our fascination with space exploration for more than half a century. It only makes sense to do this on the heels of NASA’s announcement of the Artemis 2 project, expected to launch sometime next year. Four astronauts will conduct a flyby of the moon in the first scheduled crewed mission of NASA’s Orion spacecraft.

Down here on Earth, we can detect space travel in many other facets of our culture. First, however, it’s probably best to make the distinction between Space Age design and Atomic Age design, which can often confuse people because the two terms were sometimes used interchangeably.

According to Architectural Digest, the Atomic Age began after the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, ending World War II and signifying a new period in human history that would be marked by the potential use of atomic power and the terrifying prospect of Armageddon. It was in this year, too, that author George Orwell first gave a name to the hostility and tension between the United States and the Soviet Union – the Cold War.

Still, despite their dark origins, the design trends that came from this period were sleek, colorful and even playful. Atomic particles became incorporated into everything from architecture to kitchen appliances and from wallpaper to light fixtures.

Space Age design, however, began more than a decade later, with the launch of the Sputnik satellite in late 1957. This movement’s visuals possess their own distinct look, and ‘Space Age’ is no longer used interchangeably with ‘Atomic Age’ when referring to design trends. Unlike the fear associated with the use of atomic technology, visuals consistent with the Space Age were full of optimism in humanity’s exploration of worlds beyond Earth, and faith in the good our ongoing technological developments could harness. The movement found its way into pop culture with TV shows like The Jetsons featuring it prominently. Space Age influence can even be found in the world of fashion – remember the white go-go boots worn by Jane Fonda in her groovy sci-fi flick “Barbarella” (1968)?

Nowhere was Space Age design more readily present than in the 1964 World’s Fair.

In this issue of Discover Vintage America, you’ll read about the storied history of the pinball machine, from the controversy it faced in the game’s early days to its current iteration as a mainstay of dive bars and arcades everywhere.

But did you know that pinball isn’t only a Western game? Its Eastern version has an equally fascinating history.

Chinese pinball, or Pachinko, has its origins in Japan, but unlike Western pinball, it is still widely used for gambling in that country. Like Western pinball, there exist both manual and electronic versions of the game. The machines are vertical instead of horizontal, using smaller balls instead of the larger ones in our own machines.

With pachinko machines, a spring-loaded handle launches the small balls into a metal track, which guides the ball over the top of the playing field until it falls into the playing field. In that field are brass pins throughout, and several small cups at the bottom.

If, after bouncing around on the pins, the ball falls into one of the cups, the player wins, and multiple balls will be dispensed into a tray at the bottom as the player’s reward. If the ball doesn’t find its way into one of the small cups, it falls into a slot at the bottom of the machine, triggering a loss. Like modern-day slot machines, pachinko machines employ colorful graphics and LED lights.

In Japan, pachinko parlors used to be found in just about every large city, similar to our casinos. Those who play the machines and win take their metal balls to a parlor employee in exchange for small prizes, such as pens or cigarette lighters. And though playing pachinko for cash is illegal, many small stores nearby these parlors will allow patrons to exchange for money.

The pachinko machine first made its appearance in Japan in the 1920s, with public parlors opening after the end of World War II.