Did You Have A Thumbelina?

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Thumbelina was introduced by Ideal in 1961 and quickly became one of those baby dolls that stood out because she actually moved. The original was a wind-up doll, and once wound, she would wiggle and squirm like a real baby, making her feel more lifelike than many dolls of the time.

Thumbelina stayed popular through the 1960s and into the 1970s, with different sizes and versions along the way. Then in 1992, the name was brought back with Tyco’s Twinkling Thumbelina, but that version was updated for its time as a battery-operated doll rather than the original wind-up style.

For many, though, the classic 1960s Thumbelina is the one they remember best — the baby doll that moved just enough to make a child believe she was almost real.

Carry-All Action Playsets

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With four other brothers to keep busy, Mom and Dad scored big with all of us when they brought home the Carry-All Action Playsets by Marx. These kept us entertained, and probably more importantly, quiet for hours.

You had to be careful with the pivot joints and mounting points, but other than that, these playsets could take a lot of abuse. I had Fort Apache, and one of my younger brothers had the Fighting Knights set.

Surprisingly, my Marine sergeant dad did not get us the Army Men set, but it did not matter much. No matter which one you had, these Carry-All playsets brought hours and hours of fun.

Before Ice Bird and Snoopy, There Was the Sno-Man

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Last week we talked about Ice Bird, one of those early make-your-own frozen treat toys that came before the famous Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine. But another one kids remember from the 1960s was Hasbro’s Frosty Sno-Man Sno-Cone Machine.

Released in 1967, the Sno-Man let kids shave ice and pour on flavored syrup to make their own little summer treat. It was simple, messy, and probably took more work than the commercial made it look, but that was part of the fun.

Before Snoopy’s doghouse became the one everyone remembers, there was a smiling snowman helping kids crank out sno-cones at the kitchen table.

“Shoop Shoop Hula Hoop”

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I remember my mom calling it the “Shoop Shoop Hula Hoop,” and for years I wondered where that came from. Now I know she wasn’t just making up a funny name — that was actually part of Wham-O’s marketing.

The original Hula Hoop craze took off in 1958, but like most fads, it cooled down. Wham-O later tried to bring it back by adding a new twist: sound. They put small ball bearings inside the hollow plastic hoop so that when you spun it around your waist, it made a swishing, “shoop shoop” kind of noise. TIME described the 1967 version as the New Shoop Shoop Hula Hoop, with bright colors and ball bearings inside to give it that “whirry” sound.

That explains why the name stuck with so many parents. It wasn’t just a hula hoop anymore — it was the one that made noise. Toy collectors and nostalgia sites still point to the Shoop Shoop version as Wham-O’s attempt to freshen up the craze, and later versions from the 1970s kept the name alive.

It’s funny how those advertising names became part of everyday family language. A kid might have just called it a hula hoop, but Mom remembered the commercial name: Shoop Shoop Hula Hoop. And once you hear that, you can almost hear the sound of it spinning again.

Slinky

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The Slinky was just a coil of metal, but once you put it at the top of the stairs, it became magic. It could walk, stretch, flop, twist, and occasionally tangle itself into something no child on earth could ever fully fix.

Invented by accident in the 1940s, the Slinky became one of those toys almost every kid knew. You did not need batteries, a screen, or instructions. You just needed stairs, patience, and maybe a little luck.

And who can forget the jingle? “It’s Slinky, it’s Slinky…” Once that got in your head, it stayed there.

Did you have a Slinky? And did yours actually make it all the way down the stairs?

Johnny Seven O.M.A. — The One-Man Army Toy

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The Johnny Seven O.M.A. was one of the ultimate “how did kids ever get this?” toys of the 1960s. Made by Topper Toys/Deluxe Reading, it came out in 1964 and was marketed as the One-Man Army — a giant toy weapon with several play features built into one.

This thing was not subtle. It could act like a machine gun, grenade launcher, rocket launcher, rifle, and detachable pistol all in one. For kids watching the TV commercial, it must have looked like the jackpot. One toy did everything. You didn’t just get a cap gun — you got the whole backyard battle kit.

But here is probably why so many of us never got one: the Johnny Seven sold for about $10.88 in 1964, which sounds cheap until you adjust it for today. That would be roughly $115 now, so this was not just some little toy tossed into the cart. This was a serious Christmas-present-level toy, the kind you hoped was under the tree but maybe understood years later why it wasn’t.

Looking back now, it feels almost impossible that this was once a mainstream toy. But in the mid-’60s, with war shows, spy shows, James Bond-style gadgets, and G.I. Joe all part of the culture, the Johnny Seven fit right in.

Did you have a Johnny Seven O.M.A., or was this one of those toys you wanted but never got?

When Guns Were Fun

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There was a time when a kid could watch a Saturday morning ad and immediately know what he wanted next: a Dick Tracy gun set.

Mattel’s Dick Tracy line included the Snub-Nose .38 pistol with a holster and the Tommy Burst Machine Gun, both tied into the famous comic-strip detective. The ad was pure early-1960s kid fantasy: a young boy playing detective, saving the day, and turning the living room into a crime-fighting headquarters while Dad tried to read the paper.

The Snub-Nose .38 was the kind of toy that made a kid feel like an undercover detective. Add the shoulder holster, and suddenly you weren’t just playing cops and robbers — you were Dick Tracy. The Tommy Burst took it even further, giving kids the look of an old gangster-era machine gun, except now the kid was the good guy chasing the crooks. Collectors still identify the Tommy Burst as part of Mattel’s early-1960s Dick Tracy toy line.

Watching those ads now, it is almost shocking how casually toy guns were sold to children. No disclaimers, no bright orange tips, no nervous wording. It was just “here’s the cool detective gear,” and every kid understood the assignment. Back then, toy guns were part of cowboy shows, police shows, war toys, spy kits, detective sets, and neighborhood games that lasted until the streetlights came on.

Of course, times changed. Today an ad like that would probably cause a committee meeting before it ever made it to TV. But for kids of that era, the Dick Tracy Snub-Nose and Tommy Burst weren’t about violence. They were about imagination, sound effects, hiding behind the sofa, and yelling “I got ’em!” before your mother told you to take it outside.

Did you have one of these Dick Tracy guns — or was this the kind of toy you circled in the catalog and never got?

Who had a Secret Sam?

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With all it could do, there were still many other toys I wanted more. I remember seeing the commercials and thinking it looked impressive, but I wasn’t sure it would live up to the way it looked on TV.

Secret Sam was a Topper Toys spy set from the mid-1960s, right when James Bond, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., and secret-agent gadgets were everywhere. The big item was the Secret Sam Attaché Case, a black briefcase that hid a toy gun setup inside. It could be used as a pistol, converted into a rifle, fitted with a silencer, and even fired from inside the case. Some versions also had a message missile and a small working camera.

So did it live up to expectations? Probably yes if you were deep into spy play and had a good imagination. But if you expected it to work exactly like a TV spy gadget, maybe not. Like a lot of toys from that era, the commercial did most of the heavy lifting.

Looking back, Secret Sam was the kind of toy that looked incredible under the Christmas tree, but the real fun depended on how much secret-agent adventure you could create around it.

Speedline Race Cars: The Hot Wheels Rival

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Many of you asked about these when I posted the Hot Wheels advertisement. So now I have to ask: which did you have? Hot Wheels, Matchbox, Speedline, or all of them?

Speedline race cars were part of that late-19660s toy-car boom, when every company wanted a piece of the racing action. Hot Wheels had the orange track and wild colors, Matchbox had the more realistic little cars, and Speedline tried to get into the race with its own fast-looking cars and track sets.

They never became as famous as Hot Wheels, but that’s what makes them fun to remember. Some kids had the big names. Some had the off-brand or lesser-known racers. And honestly, when you were on the floor setting up races, it didn’t always matter what brand was stamped underneath. If the car was fast, it made the lineup.

For a lot of us, these little cars were more than toys. They were races across the living room, arguments over whose car won, and the beginning of a car collection before we even knew we were collecting.

So which ones were in your house?

Suzy Cute and Louis Armstrong: Yes, This Really Happened

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The Suzy Cute doll commercial is one of those 1960s toy ads that makes you stop and say, “Wait, is that really Louis Armstrong?”

Yes, it is.

The commercial was for Topper Toys’ Suzy Cute doll, part of the company’s Suzy line. After Armstrong’s huge 1964 hit “Hello, Dolly!”, Topper’s Henry Orenstein apparently thought, “Who better to sell a doll than the man singing about Dolly?” Armstrong filmed and recorded the spot on January 6, 1965, shortly after returning from a major overseas tour.

The ad has Armstrong singing and performing with a group of little girls while promoting the doll. What makes it so charming, and a little surreal, is that Armstrong does not phone it in. The Louis Armstrong House Museum notes that even the full unused take of the jingle shows him treating it seriously, scatting, encouraging the band, and even playing trumpet during the extended recording.

That is what makes the commercial so memorable today. It is not just a toy ad. It is one of the greatest jazz legends of all time giving full Louis Armstrong energy to a tiny baby doll commercial.

Only in the 1960s could a toy company say, “Let’s get Satchmo to sell Suzy Cute,” and somehow make it happen.

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