Out of the Kitchen and Into the Kissel

For a brief period in the history of the American road map, women were portrayed as competent travelers, although not necessarily safe drivers by today's standards.

                       (Air bag v. Scotty: you do the physics)

According to Bob French, curator of the exhibition Road Maps: The American Way at the Osher Map Library of the University of Southern Maine, the first image of an active woman on an oil company give-away map was a golfer featured on the 1931 Shell road map published by the Goushá Company.

But if one equates 'driving' to 'active,' the map that the Harvard Map Collection featured on its 2002 brochure, a 1924 Standard (Kentucky) map of Alabama, predated this by 7 years.

Since first posting this site, I have been questioned whether the golfer map, which I don't own, is instead from 1927. Another RMCA member alerted me to an eBay listing of a 1929 Tydol map that also featured a woman driver.

Imagery during the Depression years--thought to be the "Golden Age" of road map cover art by collectors--often featured independent, vibrant women. To the left is a 1940 Richfield map; to the right, a 1935 Tide Water Oil Company map produced by Goushá. You can skip the '30s and jump to the War years by clicking the link. But don't say you weren't warned.

One company--Gulf Refining--displayed a rather dichotomous attitude toward its women customers. The 1932 edition (and the back of the 1946 Buffalo/Niagara Falls city map) showed the woman driving. But in 1934, her petroleum choice apparently was dictated by the quality of the ladies' room, as seen in this interior illustration.
Makes more sense than believing there was really a difference among gasolines of the same grade, but some element of trust was needed in the days before octane ratings were posted on the pump.

	One year later, female Gulf customers were forced to travel in pairs, as the map's reverse indicates. Unfold a little, and the product ads reveal all.
If no suitable companion exists, she must either (1) fumigate		or (4) wax unidentifiable surfaces for no apparent reason.
The 1930s must have been positvely infested. Theodore Geisel, before his Dr. Seuss career, pushed Esso's 'FLIT' to the homemakers of the depression years.
	But either gender (3) could oil the sewing machine.

As the economy stagnated, maps became less flashy. Two color printing became the norm, although there were some incredibly beautiful maps despite that limitation. The 1937 Sovereign map published by Rand McNally featured a three-panel design with a woman driver receiving service "fit for a king." The maroon and gold (well, yellow) color scheme is unusual and apropos. Texaco and Powerine, a medium-sized western producer, even resorted to monochrome in some cases. Later, many of the smaller gasoline distributors adopted generic artwork from companies such as Rand McNally or the Mid-West Map Company.

Among the most beautiful of the '30s maps are the 1932 (left) and 1933 (right, below) Goushá maps for Shell Oil. The artwork is by commercial artist Robert E. Lee. The 1933 map lost the man and gained a fox terrier. Spectacular artwork graced these promotional give-aways.

Rand McNally led the major mapmakers: Goushá's strength lay in the beauty of its cartography rather than cover art, and General Drafting specialized in simple Deco cover designs. Among the major oil companies, Shell and Sinclair today receive the most accolades for their early designs. Sinclair Refining Company and Rand McNally devoted five (of thirty available) panels on their mid-to-late 1930s maps to fanciful scenes. Unfortunately, Shell's designs deteriorated into bland red and yellow covers which were used until 1961. Sinclair's descent is discussed on a later page.

1931's edition features a comic cover advertising Sinclair products and reflecting the latest fad: movie cartoons.

On the 'Opaline' billboard, the model appears to be sternly watching the speeding red car. Pure cartoon sight gag, unfortunately more like Paul Terry's concept of visual humor than Tex Avery's. Still, it must have raised a little chuckle from the navigator. Artist Barney Tobey managed to accomplish a lot with only 3 colors on his palette.

But hey, it's early days. Both the road map and the movie cartoon industry had miles to go.

At the crossroads on the left, a man and woman discuss directions. Not great humor, but what can you expect during the last days of Hoover's dreadful single term?

	In 1934, the couple is driving away from a fabulous station. Note the role model for the Queen. Same hat, different hand position for the wave. Alternatively, she may be preparing for a slot in the 1936 Olympics as a javelin catcher.
In 1938, the man defends his choice of fuel to his partner. He appears passionate, or else infectious. She appears to be not amused whatsoever. Perhaps her hat has blown off along the road.

In 1939, she has regained her hat and her humor. She has also begun to look like Cybill Shepherd.

Somehow I would not be amused to be told to write the Sinclair Refining Company for a route to the New York World's Fair. Especially if I was lost in Indiana at the time.

Please note: this scan has been retouched, as the map is too large to fit on the typical flatbed scanner.

onderful graphics were not monopolized by the 'big boys.' In 1934, Langwith produced an incredible map for Wadhams, a Wisconsin firm which was beginning to be subsumed into the Socony-Vacuum (Mobil) fold. Displaying all three panels would shoot the remainder of my server space, so I have elected to go with the bottom portion of two panels in the best resolution I can supply.

Four women (and three men) are shown. The first discusses a map with a gentleman in a suit. Two more stand in front of the clubhouse entrance with a man, most likely a parking lot attendant, wearing some type of white outfit. But the fourth, most interestingly, carries her own golf clubs through the grassy parking lot.

Obviously, Wadhams (most hailed for its incredible stations built to resemble Japanese pagodas) maintained its posh image in the middle of the Great Depression.

However, advertising text discusses the 'Metro' gasoline brand, the 'utmost in safe price economy.' Socony-Vacuum was attempting to change the image of this regional brand. Fortunately, they had not yet dampened the exuberance of Wadhams' map program into the lackluster unified graphics of its other divisions.

WWII

Out of the Chevy and into the Shipyard

As World War II began, cover art became either more patriotic (Tydol, Skelly--not shown) or more plain, capturing the solemnity of a home front where every scrap was saved and recycled. Many maps were censored. In contrast, other oil companies--notably Pure, Sun Oil (Sunoco) and Sinclair--distributed maps on which people could follow the progress of the war. Somehow, increasing the consumption of the maps themselves--which were free--became as absurd as advertising a product--gasoline--which was strictly rationed.

	Although these covers do not capture the spirit of Rosie the Riveter, they certainly display the tenor of the times. I call them "Map Noir," along with the Tydol and Sinclair wartime issues. Just the facts, ma'am.

Ma'am couldn't be directed to any points of military interest, though! The Goushá Map Company removed them from their war issues.

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Page last updated 21 November 2004.
Copyright by the author, Judy Aulik.
Contact judy (at) roadmaps (dot) org.