retro toys Archives - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

Probably no toy gave me more joy than Hot Wheels.

It was great the first day you got the track, but the fun didn’t stop there. A new car didn’t cost all that much, even for a kid, and suddenly the whole race changed. One new car meant new matchups, new winners, new arguments, and another reason to reset the track and try again.

Hot Wheels were introduced by Mattel in 1968, created to compete with Matchbox, but they had a completely different attitude. Matchbox cars looked more like regular cars you’d see on the road. Hot Wheels looked like something a kid dreamed up: wild colors, big wheels, racing stripes, spoilers, flames, and hot rod styling. The first line is remembered as the “Original 16” or “Sweet 16.”

And they were fast. That was the magic. Mattel built them with low-friction wheels and axles, wider hard-plastic tires, and a suspension design that helped them fly down those orange plastic tracks smoother than other little cars of the time. The Strong National Museum of Play notes that Mattel engineers wanted them to “zoom,” using thick plastic mag wheels, minimal-friction axles, and torsion-bar suspension.

Then came the tracks. If you got a new setup, like the one with the Super Charger, it worked with the track you already had. That was the genius of it. You didn’t have to start over. You just added on. A curve here, a loop there, a launcher, a jump, and suddenly your living room floor became Daytona, Indy, and a demolition derby all at once.

Looking back, Hot Wheels were a great value because every piece made the whole thing better. One car could change the race. One track set could change the whole afternoon. And for a kid, that little orange track and one fast car were enough to make the whole room feel like a speedway.

Who had a Farrah Doll?

The Farrah doll was part of full-blown Farrah Fawcett mania in the late 1970s, when her feathered hair, red swimsuit poster, and Charlie’s Angels fame were everywhere.

Mego released a Farrah Fawcett doll in 1977, right when she was one of the biggest TV and poster stars in America. The doll was about 12 inches tall, fully poseable, and came with Farrah’s famous long blonde hair. Some versions had outfits like a red top, denim shorts, white boots, and even accessories like a skateboard. The Smithsonian has a Farrah Fawcett doll with skateboards in its collection, describing it as a blonde doll dressed in a red shirt, blue denim shorts, and knee-high white boots.

There was also a Farrah’s Glamour Center toy made in 1977, showing how much her look was being sold as part of the fantasy. It wasn’t just “here’s a celebrity doll.” It was “here’s the hair, the style, the smile, and the whole Farrah look.”

What’s funny now is that the doll didn’t always capture Farrah perfectly. Like a lot of celebrity dolls from that era, it was close enough for kids and collectors to know who it was supposed to be, but not exactly museum-quality likeness. Still, that almost makes it more charming. Back then, if you had the Farrah doll, the poster, and maybe the haircut, you were officially living in 1977.

Farrah’s actual red swimsuit and related items were later donated to the Smithsonian, along with a 1977 Farrah Fawcett doll, which tells you how much that image and merchandising became part of pop culture history

When Tippee-Toes Tiptoed Into Trouble

Leave it to the early 1980s to give us a controversy over a baby doll’s bare bottom.

Mattel’s Tippee-Toes was one of those dolls that was supposed to look cute, innocent, and lifelike. She could crawl, and like a lot of toy commercials from back then, the ad was aimed right at kids sitting in front of the TV, probably during cartoons or family programming. But then came the part that got people talking: the commercial showed the doll’s little bare backside.

That may sound pretty tame today, but back then one viewer found it offensive enough to complain to David Horowitz, the consumer advocate best known for Fight Back! with David Horowitz. Horowitz was the guy people turned to when they felt a product, commercial, or company needed to be called out. He built a career on standing up for consumers, testing products, and bringing viewer complaints into the spotlight.

The issue even made its way to The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson in 1982. Horowitz appeared on Carson and discussed the Tippee-Toes commercial, reportedly showing both the original ad and the changed version after complaints were made. It was one of those perfect Johnny Carson moments where something small, silly, and strangely serious all came together on national television.

Looking back, it feels almost impossible to believe this was a controversy. We grew up with talking dolls, creepy ventriloquist dummies selling chocolate milk, clowns selling cereal, and commercials that would probably send today’s internet into a panic. But a baby doll’s bare bottom? That was enough to get a consumer advocate involved and Mattel’s attention.

It’s a funny little reminder of how much TV, advertising, and what people considered “offensive” has changed over the years. Tippee-Toes was just trying to crawl across the screen, but somehow she crawled right into consumer TV history.

Mouse Trap Game

I remember wanting Mouse Trap so bad because it looked so cool in the commercial. What kid wouldn’t want their very own Rube Goldberg machine right there on the kitchen table?

Mouse Trap came out in 1963, and the whole attraction wasn’t just the board game itself. It was that crazy contraption you built while playing. The crank, the gears, the marble, the bathtub, the diving man, the cage, and all those little plastic pieces that had to line up just right. On TV, it looked like the greatest thing ever invented.

The neighbor kid had one, we played it, and I was excited to try it for real. It was fun, but I’ll be honest, it wasn’t quite as exciting as I had built it up to be in my head. Maybe it needed that wacky music from the commercial playing in the background! Without the TV magic, it was still a neat game, but the commercial may have sold it better than the actual game.

Still, you have to give Mouse Trap credit. Every kid who saw that commercial wanted to see that trap go off. Whether it worked perfectly or needed a little help, it was one of those games that made you say, “I want that!”

Buddy L Trucks

Nothing gave me more fun and joy as a child than playing in the backyard with my Buddy L trucks.

The early Buddy L trucks were made from heavy pressed steel, which made them feel like real construction equipment shrunk down for a kid. The brand started with the Moline Pressed Steel Company in East Moline, Illinois, founded by Fred Lundahl, whose company originally made automobile and truck parts before moving into toys in the early 1920s.

The name Buddy L came from Lundahl’s son, Arthur, whose nickname was “Buddy.” The story goes that Lundahl made a sturdy toy truck for his son using the same kind of steel his company worked with, and it turned into something much bigger. By 1921, Buddy L trucks were being produced as toys, and they quickly became known for being big, tough, and realistic. Over the decades, the brand changed hands several times. By the 1990s and early 2000s, Buddy L had been sold through different companies, and the original manufacturing era was over.

That is what made them so special. A Buddy L dump truck, fire truck, wrecker, steam shovel, or delivery truck did not just sit on a shelf. You took it outside. You loaded it with dirt, rocks, sticks, sand, and whatever else you could find. You built roads, dug holes, made construction sites, and probably scratched the heck out of the paint without caring one bit.

For a lot of us, Buddy L trucks were not just toys. They were backyard equipment. They had weight, they had metal, they had working parts, and they made you feel like you were running the whole job site. Long before video games gave kids virtual worlds to build, a Buddy L truck, a patch of dirt, and a little imagination were all we needed.

Looking back, that is probably why they are so collectible today. They remind people of a time when toys were built like the real thing, and when a kid could spend an entire afternoon outside with one truck and never be bored.

Mystery Date

If you grew up in the 60s or caught reruns later on, that first Mystery Date commercial was one of those you didn’t forget. It came out right around 1965, and the whole hook was simple but genius—pick your outfit, open the door… and find out if you got the “dreamy date” or the dreaded “dud.”

Keeping With The Earworm Theme…G.I Joe! G.I.Joe!

You remember that, right?

Back when G.I. Joe wasn’t something you could lose under the couch in five seconds… it was a full-blown 12-inch soldier you could actually hold onto. That’s what I grew up with. My dad was a Marine, so yeah, there was no question I was getting one. But let me tell you, on a Marine’s pay, those accessories might as well have been locked up in Fort Knox (with Joe guarding it). You made do with what you had… and honestly, it didn’t matter.

Now here’s something people don’t always think about… G.I. Joe first came out in 1964, and not long after, the mood in the country started shifting. You started hearing more anti-war sentiment as the years went on. They didn’t dwell on it in the toy aisle, but you could feel the change happening in the background.

And yeah… they were already calling it an “action figure” when I got mine, I think it was 1966, and I remember that so well because my older brother wasn’t buying it. Not for a second. He kept busting me, telling me I was playing with dolls. And I’d fire right back every time, “It’s not a doll, it’s an action figure!” Didn’t matter how many times I said it… I wasn’t winning that battle.

Because those big Joes just felt right. These weren’t little plastic guys either. They were about a foot tall and had real cloth uniforms you could swap out (my wife is ribbing me just now, saying she was able to do that with her Barbie and Ken dolls). If you were lucky enough to have the gear, you could outfit them for just about anything. And they took off like a rocket. First year, around 16.9 million dollars in sales. Next year, over 36 million. That’s big money for back then. These things were everywhere… every kid knew what G.I. Joe was.

Now I get why they eventually made them smaller. Those big figures weren’t cheap to make, and by the 70s, things were changing. Then Star Wars hit in ’77 and flipped the whole toy world on its head. Smaller figures, vehicles, playsets… suddenly, you could build an entire world instead of just having one guy. From a business standpoint, it made total sense. Cheaper to make, more to sell.

But here’s the thing… it just wasn’t the same.

And I know exactly what you mean when you say it’s hard to explain. Those 12-inch Joes had some weight to them. They felt more real. The cloth uniforms made a difference. It was like you had your one guy, and you were sending him out on missions. The smaller ones were fun, no doubt, but they felt more like pieces of a bigger set instead of your figure.

So let me ask you…

Am I the only one who feels this way, or did those full-size G.I. Joes just hit different?

And be honest… were you one of the lucky ones with all the accessories… or were you like me, arguing with your brother that it wasn’t a doll while still making it work with what you had and having a blast anyway?

Is the jingle stuck in your head now?