Long before Photoshop, people used creative practical effects to craft amusing and surreal images. Popular trends included “tall-tale postcards,” which featured giant crops or oversized animals through clever forced perspective and double exposure. At carnivals and boardwalks, “comic foregrounds”—wooden cutouts where people popped their heads through painted scenes—allowed Victorian and Edwardian folks to transform into weightlifters, mermaids, or babies.

These quirky snapshots prove that the desire to capture a laugh and share a bit of whimsical personality is a timeless human trait, bridging the gap between the sepia-toned past and today’s internet memes.

Originally a masculine military and polo attire, Jodhpurs became a symbol of the “New Woman”: independent, adventurous, and active. Women began wearing these flared-hip trousers for horse riding and aviation, famously championed by pioneers like Amelia Earhart and Coco Chanel.

By blurring the lines between masculine and feminine wardrobes, the 1920s Jodhpurs stood as a powerful sartorial symbol of the early feminist movement.

On November 9, 1970, a 45-foot, 8-ton sperm whale washed ashore near Florence, Oregon. Because Oregon’s beaches were technically classified as public highways at the time, the responsibility for removal fell to the Oregon State Highway Division (now ODOT) rather than a wildlife agency. The carcass was rotting quickly, and the stench was becoming unbearable. Burying it was considered, but officials feared it would just be uncovered by the tide.

The engineer in charge, George Thornton, consulted with the U.S. Navy and decided the best course of action was to treat the whale like a large boulder. He figured that a massive blast with 20 cases (half a ton) of dynamite would “atomize” the whale into tiny pieces that seagulls and crabs would then finish off. A military veteran in the crowd reportedly warned Thornton that 20 sticks would have been plenty and that 20 cases was a recipe for disaster. He was ignored.

At 3:45 p.m. on November 12, they pushed the plunger. The result was captured in a now-famous news report by KATU’s Paul Linnman. A 100-foot-high column of sand and blubber erupted into the air. Instead of disintegrating, the whale broke into large, heavy chunks. Spectators who thought they were at a safe distance (about a quarter-mile away) had to run for cover as “meaty” rain began falling. The most famous casualty was a brand-new car parked nearby, which was completely crushed by a massive chunk of flying blubber. Ironically, the car had been purchased at a “Whale of a Deal” promotion. The seagulls that were supposed to eat the remains were scavenged away by the explosion and didn’t return for some time.

While Thornton later claimed the operation was a success because the whale was “removed” from its original spot, the state never tried it again. When 41 sperm whales beached themselves nearby in 1979, the state opted to bury them instead.

Born in Illinois, AI Moore played college football at Northwestern University and professional football with the Chicago Bears. After attending classes at Chicago’s Art Institute and Academy of Art, he opened a commercial art studio in New York in the late 1930s. By the mid 1940s, his clients included major companies like Galey and Lord, Beauty Counselors, the Viscole Corporation and Champion Spark Flags.

During the war years, Moore painted posters for the government and also took on assignments from Gold cigarettes, Cosmopolitan, The Saturday Evening Post and Collier’s.

Advertising work for U.S. Rubber, Nash automobiles, and Coca-Cola led, in 1946, to Moore’s breakthrough assignment – he was chosen by Esquire to replace Alberto Vargas, the most popular pin-up artist of the day. Among Moore’s triumphs at the magazine were his creation of the Esquire Girl, his answer to the Varga Girl; the 1948 Esquire calendar (with Ben-Hur Baz and others); front covers in 1948 and 1949; and the rare honor of painting the entire 1949 and 1950 calendars himself. By 1950, his two-page gatefolds in Esquire were collected by millions of Americans.

Moore contributed four pinups and a centerfold print to Brown & Bigelow’s Ballyhoo Calendar for 1953, which was as huge a success as the work of Gil Elvgren for the previous year’s calendar. In the 1950s, his corporate clients included contemporary Munsingwear, Hertz Rent-a-Car, and the McGregor Corporation. During the same years, his illustrations appeared in American Magazine, Woman’s Home Companion, McCall’s, and Woman’s Day, and he painted several front covers for The Saturday Evening Post. As an active member of the Society of Illustrators, Moore was asked to paint the poster for the society’s 1959 exhibition; it was such a success that both Pan American Airlines and Germaine Monteil Perfume also commissioned posters for their national marketing campaigns.

When photographs started to replace artwork in magazines and advertising, Moore decided to retire and pursue fine-art painting, including portrait commissions, Shortly after he moved to Crawford, Colorado, he accepted a commission from the United States Olympic Committee for three paintings for their world headquarters that would call attention to the problem of illegal steroid use by athletes.

With her dark hair, expressive eyes, and natural allure, Arnoul became a favorite of leading directors, most notably Jean Renoir, who cast her as the lead in the 1954 masterpiece French Cancan. In this iconic role as Nini, a young laundress turned cabaret dancer, she showcased her talent for blending innocence with vibrant energy.

Throughout her career, Arnoul appeared in a wide range of films, from gritty “film noir” crime dramas to lighthearted romances, working alongside legendary actors like Jean Gabin and Fernandel. Beyond her on-screen beauty, she was respected for her longevity in the industry and her dedication to French culture, leaving behind a legacy as a graceful icon of the golden age of European filmmaking.

The streets were lined with pastel-colored Art Deco hotels, many of which were still peeling from neglect before the preservation movement fully took hold. Parked along the curbs were iconic vehicles of the era: from sleek European sports cars fueled by the city’s sudden “cocaine cowboy” wealth to the rugged, sun-beaten sedans of the local working class.

Palm trees swayed over bustling boulevards where the air was thick with a mix of salty Atlantic breezes and the rhythmic sounds of Latin music spilling out from storefronts, creating an atmosphere that was simultaneously glamorous, gritty, and pulsating with a raw, multicultural soul.

These fascinating photos, taken by Steven Martin, capture street scenes of Miami, Florida in 1983.