toy nostalgia Archives - Retro Reminiscing Video and Pictures

Small Shots: Mattel’s Hot Wheels Dolls

Small Shots was one of those 1971 toy ideas that sounds strange now, but made sense once you see it. Mattel basically took the Hot Wheels idea and put little dolls on skates, wagons, carts, and other rolling stands that could run on Hot Wheels-style track.

The commercial is pure early ’70s toy advertising. Everything moves fast, the kids act amazed, and the announcer makes it sound like this was the next big thing. It was not just a doll, and it was not just a car. It was Mattel trying to mix both worlds together.

That was probably the real idea. Hot Wheels was huge with boys, while dolls were usually marketed to girls. Small Shots tried to pull both sides together — little fashion-style figures that could race, roll, and crash down a track. It was a clever idea, even if it also feels a little odd today.

Another interesting note: one of the early Small Shots commercials is listed among Jodie Foster’s early TV commercial work. She was still a child actor at the time, years before most people knew her name.

Small Shots did not last very long, but it is a great example of how toy companies in the 1970s were willing to try almost anything. Dolls on Hot Wheels track? Why not. In that era, if it rolled, launched, flipped, or crashed, somebody was going to put it in a commercial.

Did you have Shark Pack?

I felt that changing the discs to make it do different maneuvers meant you might as well have pushed it by hand. Was I wrong?

Shark Pack was a 1970s toy boat line from Ideal, and the big feature was its interchangeable program discs. Instead of radio control, you put in a disc, set the boat loose, and it would follow a preset pattern, turning or circling depending on which disc you used.

For the time, that was a pretty clever idea. It gave kids a way to “program” the boat before home computers and remote-control toys became common. The commercial made it look exciting, with the boats cutting through the water and changing direction on command.

Like a lot of toys from that era, the real fun probably depended on where you used it and what you expected from it. If you had a pool, pond, or enough room to let it run, Shark Pack may have been a lot of fun. If you were expecting total control, the disc-changing part may have felt a little less magical.

That’s why I’m curious. Did Shark Pack really live up to the ad, or was it one of those toys that looked better on TV?

Who had a Secret Sam?

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.

Suzy Cute and Louis Armstrong: Yes, This Really Happened

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.

Whenever I saw the Barbie Cut ’n Curl commercial as a kid, I always wondered if it really worked as smoothly as it looked on TV.

The idea was great: give Barbie a haircut, style her hair, curl it, and somehow keep the fun going without ruining the doll forever. Of course, commercials always made these toys look effortless. At home, I’m guessing it depended on patience, steady hands, and whether Barbie’s hair ended up looking salon-ready or like she had just lost a fight with a brush.

But here’s what I really want to know: Did you have Barbie Cut ’n Curl? Did it actually work the way the commercial showed?

And even better, did any of you start by cutting and styling Barbie’s hair and later end up becoming a hair stylist, barber, or working in cosmetology? Sometimes those childhood toys really did point us toward what we’d do later in life.

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.