While doing some office cleaning recently, I came across a 1967 Christmas toy catalog published by F.A.O. Schwarz. This compendium of childhood dreams arrived every year and was pored over (and squabbled over) by my siblings and me.
At some point, my mother managed to wrestle it from our hands and hide it away. Later, she'd sneak it out and circle items that she planned to order. I don't know how this particular catalog survived.
F.A.O. Schwarz, back in the day, was a quaint, Old World-style toy shop on Fifth Avenue. It sold lots of imported European toys. I only visited it once; I remember climbing an elegant staircase and spotting the Wagner Handwork trio of a Dalmatian and her two pups (and begging for it, a wish not granted that day). We also enjoyed ice cream around the corner at Rumpelmeyer's, a similarly quaint, Old World-style ice cream shop across the street from Central Park's southern edge.
With these memories fixed in place, I was never fond of F.A.O. Schwarz in its later incarnations, and certainly never found Wagner animals at them. But never mind. Here's what was on offer in 1967.
First up was the Kitten Mobile:
As you can see, my mom marked this for ordering, and I still have this more than 50 years later. The yellow bumpers need to be glued back on, and the kittens' "Sunday best" is not quite as tidy as it once was, but the whole ensemble is still well loved. (Wagner made the cats; F.A.O. Schwarz provided the car.)
The next Wagner item in the catalog is the lovely Stable With Horses--not circled in that catalog, but I did receive it as a gift within the next year or two:
(I am sorry to say that, impressed by the fullness and luxuriousness of the white horse's tail, I fell for a TV ad's blandishment about how a product called Tame could make your tresses extra beautiful. Surely, then, that meant the white mare's lovely tail could be made even lovelier? Perhaps it worked on human hair, but it didn't do wonders for a Wagner horse: her tail fell off, and her rump was permanently stained bright pink.)
The inside back cover boasted the Mouse Playground--"six fuzzy little mice...having the time of their young lives on their own fenced-in playground." Mom circled this one, too. Thanks, Mom :)
Most of the little wooden toys are missing bits now, and the fence needs regluing, and somebody colored on the green grass...and a mouse or two has lost a tail...but five decades later they are still gamely playing in their playground.
The toy store devoted its back cover to two wooden structures of their own creation, one of which features Wagner's cute dachshunds. It's the Hound Hotel, billed as "a neat little vacation hideaway for these lucky dogs!"
Per the copy, "Mr. and Mrs. R. U. Canine are being greeted at the door by the host of Hound Hotel, the chef, and his maitre d', Baskerville." Lift the roof, and you'll find Mimi the Maid serving drinks to a guest.
The car has four bears in it, but they're plush, not flockies, and look similar to Steiff-type bears. Not that they wouldn't be welcome to drop by the Hound Hotel for some gluhwein.
My family was not wealthy--we were a happy suburban middle-class family--so it's not as if we were showered with expensive imported toys.
But my mom's mother was an Irish immigrant who had grown up in poverty, and though my grandmother enjoyed a better life in the United States with my grandad (also an Irish immigrant, who had a good job driving subway trains in the city), she never relaxed her vigilance regarding money.
My mother, with her love of dolls and dollhouses and dislike of flashy plastic toys, relished buying fewer toys for us overall but choosing solid, classic toys with lots of scope for imaginative play. I'm so glad she did.
The catalog featured other toys I loved, too--all imports, such as Britains plastic animals and Steiff plush animals. I'll leave you with their beautiful selection of Steiff animals, all at enviable 1967 prices!
