10 Brand Names Gone But not Forgotten
Some products are steeped in nostalgia, even many years after they disappeared from the market. Here are some of the most memorable ones.
Old brands never die -- they just fade from view until someone figures out a way to capitalize on the nostalgia for them.
If you live in New England, or are passing through, you may encounter Narragansett Beer. No, not the original; that brew debuted in 1890 and virtually disappeared after being acquired but neglected by mega-brewer Falstaff Brewing in 1965. The brand was reborn in 2005, after Mark Hellendrung, the former director of regional beverage maker Nantucket Nectars, led a group of investors that bought back the beer from Falstaff.
Auction specialist Racebrook last year said it was selling 50 "classic American brands" it had acquired over the years, including Handi-Wrap, Victrola, Braniff International and Shearson.
"In recent years, there has been renewed interest in branding that evokes nostalgia," said John Cuticelli, Racebrook's chief executive. "These brand names have been, and will become again, globally recognized by consumers."
There was a time when predicting the demise of Woolworth would have been unthinkable. The retail giant, for years one of America's biggest businesses, was among the so-called five-and-dime stores that used their buying power to undercut competitors' prices. Started in 1879, Woolworth is credited as being the first general merchandise store that kept its goods out in the open, letting shoppers handle, inspect and compare items.
For decades, shoppers across the country and overseas flocked to Woolworths to shop and snack at their beloved food counters, which often were community gathering spots. The company's success established a blueprint for the national discount retailers that followed.
So what happened to Woolworth? Simply put, it collapsed under its own weight -- expanding beyond sustainability and moving away from its five-and-dime roots and toward a department store model.
The end came in 1997 when its parent company pulled the plug and evolved into Foot Locker devoting its energy to athletic footwear and other sporting goods.
Other computer makers have come and gone, but the Commodore Amiga still commands a place of reverence among tech aficionados. As The New York Times once put it, "Amiga loyalists fanatical bunch who make Apple partisans look apathetic."
The first Amiga, made by Commodore as a follow-up to its Commodore 64, hit stores in 1985 as a top-of-the-line personal computer. Its various incarnations sold extremely well in the United States and Europe; users were enthralled by its fast processor, top-notch graphics, audio- and video-editing capabilities and its proprietary operating system.
Over time, competition from Apple and IBM cut into Amiga's share of the PC market. But a funny thing happened on the way to extinction: People held on to their machines, so much so that an estimated half-million are still in use. Websites and Internet message boards bring Amiga fans from all over the world together to offer advice, develop new programs and trade software and parts.
The computer's legendary status has led to a reincarnation. A-Eon Technology is a private company founded with the sole intent of developing hardware for the Amiga operating system.
If you were a fashionably dressed teen in the '80s, you probably relished a trip to the mall. Girls would head to Merry-Go-Round to pick up their Cyndi Lauper-inspired fashions, and the boys would load up on whatever they thought their pseudo-Valley Girl would like. If the outfit was really, like, oh my God, radical, it would be off to Glamour Shots to be immortalized in soft focus.
Fashion is fickle, and styles constantly change. Most retailers are able to adapt by rotating merchandise. But Chess King and Merry-Go-Round, owned by the same parent in their later years, seemed trapped in the amber of the New Wave era. Once the market for parachute pants, suspenders and Velcro wallets dried up, they went out of business in 1996.
If you were a somebody in the '60s and '70s, you probably flashed a Diners Club card when picking up the check. You may not see too many people paying with the card today, but it holds an important place in history; it helped launch the massive credit card industry we have today.
The origins of the card began when a man named Frank McNamara had dinner in a New York restaurant but left his cash in another suit. The embarrassing situation gave him the idea for a "charge card" that could be used for payment. In 1950, Diners Club International launched the first card of its kind, with members required to pay off the balance upon getting their monthly statements.
Over time, American Express horned in on its market, and there was additional competition from a new breed of "revolving credit" cards offered by the likes of Visa and MasterCard.
Those feeling nostalgic for their first charge card can take some solace in the fact that Diners Club, though rarely seen, still exists. It is owned by Discover Financial Services, which bought Diners Club International from Citigroup for $165 million in 2008.
As kids, many of us guzzled soda. It is no surprise, then, that cola brands trigger warm, fuzzy memories. PepsiCo recently tapped into such nostalgia when it introduced the Throwback lines of Pepsi and Mountain Dew beverages, packaged with retro labeling and featuring real sugar instead of high-fructose corn syrup.
Tab started the diet cola craze. Marketing slogans included "A Beautiful Drink for Beautiful People" and "One Calorie -- Beautiful."
The familiar pinkish can with simple white lettering has become a symbol of the 1970s aesthetic. TV shows and movies set during this era often include a Tab can in one scene or another.
Alas, Tab in its original form had a hard fall from '70s stardom. To start with, there was that whole cancer thing. To produce a tasty but low-calorie beverage, Tab included the artificial sweetener sodium saccharin. Tests on lab rats suggested that the sweetener could cause cancer. Those concerns led to mandatory, off-putting warning labels.
The bigger problem was the global power of the Coca-Cola brand. Soon after its introduction in 1982, a product called Diet Coke became the soda standard for calorie counters, and the company focused on it rather than its older Tab product.
Tab, which hit shelves in 1963, never regained its popularity. Nevertheless, it is still available in the United States if your grocer is inclined to carry it
Once upon a time, going to a steakhouse didn't mean dropping a week's pay at Morton's or the Palm. Middle America flocked to a variety of affordable, family steakhouses with names like Bonanza, Ponderosa and Sizzler, which still dot the landscape. Less durable was the Rustler Steak House, which thrived as an after-church, Little-League-victory, Uncle-Jim's-birthday-party kind of place for those in the mid-Atlantic states.
The beginning of the end for Rustler came when Marriott bought its parent company, the Gino's fast-food restaurant chain, as part of a move to extend its Roy Rogers brand. That plan fell apart when Marriott sold the Gino's chain to Hardee's, which, in turn, sold off the properties to McDonald's, Wendy's and Boston Market. A similar fate befell the family-friendly, cafeteria-style chain of York Steak Houses, many of which were found alongside shopping malls.
Popular in the '70s and '80s, York was owned by General Mills, which shuttered most of the steakhouses by 1989. The parent company also jettisoned other food brands, including Betty Crocker and Tree House, and in 1995 spun off the Red Lobster and Olive Garden chains into Darden Restaurants.
Today only one York Steak House remains, near the Westland Mall in Columbus, Ohio.
As kids we used to sneak a quick read of our mothers' copies of McCall's magazine. We weren't looking at the popular housekeeping-themed magazine for centerpiece ideas or sewing tips. Our focus was on the "Movie Guide for Puzzled Parents," a column intended to alert America's moms as to what releases had violence, nudity, swearing and gore. It unwittingly advised us which movies were worth sneaking into.
That might not be a great example of why this particular magazine was so iconic in its day. But it does illustrate something important: All of our moms either subscribed to the magazine or snatched up copies from supermarket checkout lines. It started in 1870 as a promotional tool to advertise sewing patterns, and by the 1960s, owing to the growth of middle class suburbia, it had nearly 8.5 million readers.
Over the years, the magazine remained popular despite multiple owners. Then along came Rosie O'Donnell. The success of the former VH1 VJ as a daytime talk show host gave the comedian Oprah-like aspirations to cross over into the world of publishing. In 2000 she was taken on as editorial director at McCall's, and the following year it was renamed Rosie, featuring O'Donnell on all subsequent covers. The change was ultimately a failure, and the magazine ceased publication.
Think of the great movies of the '70s and '80s -- "Star Wars," "Jaws," "E.T.," "Raiders of the Lost Ark" -- and the odds are good you will remember standing in line for tickets outside a General Cinema.
The theater chain opened in 1935 and helped usher in the era of the megaplex. While the movies were what we went for and remember most, the chain had its own flourishes that left us with fond memories.
There was its traditional animated Popcorn Bob and his Candy Band, who marched and danced while telling us not to talk during the show and reminding us of the snacks we could buy in the lobby. There was also the famous animated logo that preceded each film, the G and C merging into an abstract movie projector while a syncopated jazz jingle played: Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo.
After filing for bankruptcy in 2000, the movie chain was sold to rival AMC Theaters in 2002.
Think back to when the "friendly skies" were really friendly. When you could board an airplane without a strip search or carry on more than 3.4 ounces of water, and took your shoes off only if you wanted to.
There was a time when men wore suits and women wore their Sunday best when they boarded an airplane -- sweatpants or jeans were simply uncouth. Smoking? Sure thing. In fact, a lovely young stewardess would light your Chesterfield as she handed you another scotch and soda.
A lot of airlines have come and gone since the days when boarding an airplane was still an adventure and true luxury. TWA is MIA, and Braniff is perhaps remembered by many only because its TV commercial is part of the end credits of "South Park." Pan American World Airways, better known as Pan Am, still inspires happy memories, however.
What's so special about Pan Am? Aside from its starring role in the "glory days" of aviation, it pioneered many things we now take for granted, from jumbo jets to computerized reservation systems to in-flight snacks (back then they were meals).
This fall, ABC-TV is looking to tap into memories of those good old days with the series "Pan Am," a drama populated by the pilots and stewardesses of the famous airline.
Chiclets are those tiny, tiny pieces of gum, covered in a candy shell. Now owned by Kraft Foods. Chiclets are no longer easy to find in the United States. But the rest of the world, in particular the Middle East, still gobbles up the tiny treats.
Don't count Chiclets out just yet. As with so many candies, you can pretty much count on their return at some point, just like others that were snatched from the abyss to capitalize on nostalgia, such as Pop Rocks and Wacky Packages.
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