Upon Reflection, I Loved Lucy, Too David E. Hubler

measurements to assist with clothing design and adjustment.

And speaking of the 1987 film Mannequin, IMDb reports that director Michael Gottlieb got the idea for this woeful film when he was walking by a store window and saw what he thought was a mannequin move by itself. He realized it was an illusion, caused by a combination of lights and shadows, then began to wonder what would happen if a mannequin did come to life.

Originally, the lead was written as an older, lonely storekeeper, with Dudley Moore in mind. Someone must have realized that was a little too creepy, though. When Andrew McCarthy came on board, the character was changed to a young artist. Before filming this movie, actress Kim Cattrall, then 30, spent six weeks posing for a Santa Monica sculptor, who captured her likeness. Six mannequins, each with a different expression, were made. According to IMDb, “Cattrall later recalled, ‘There’ s no way to play a mannequin except if you want to sit there as a dummy. I did a lot of body building because I wanted to be as streamlined as possible. I wanted to match the mannequins as closely as I could.’” (While I think Rotten Tomatocritics were being generous, here is their take: “[Splat] 20 percent. Mannequinis a real dummy, outfitted with a ludicrous concept and a painfully earnest script that never springs to life, despite the best efforts of an impossibly charming Kim Cattrall.”) That’s a Lot of Frozen Stares

According to a Fact.MR (a global leader in market research and consulting) in its “Mannequin Market Forecast (2017-2022)” — yes, there is such a thing — projected global sales should reach $13 billion by 2022 year end. That’s a lot of blank stares and frozen flexes.

In 1937, retail displayer Lester Gaba dressed up Cynthia, a mannequin, in the latest fashion and sashayed her to various New York events — the theater, Bergdorf’s, a private dinner party, and even her regular hair salon — to promote business. Gaba later wrote in “The Art of Window Display” that the evening he first brought Cynthia home with him, the famous milliner Lilly Daché stopped by for a visit. Daché was so intrigued by his mute girlfriend that she encouraged Gaba to bring Cynthia to the opening of her new salon the following week. (Alas, Cynthia apparently suffered irreparable damage in transport, ending her 15 minutes of fame.)

And so it goes. Please forgive the digression. Although interesting, none of that really matters to me. I just enjoy the emotional capture of my little hobby. It never becomes a fixation. I never “go hunting” for a mannequin moment. The joy is the discovery in the natural flow of our time traveling.

Perhaps you share the Leslie Jones character’s freaked-out response to an unclothed mannequin in “Ghostbusters III. ” I’ve never had one bust a move on me, but their gaze continues to lure me in.

See you out there.

Upon Reflection, I Too Loved Lucy

By David E. Hubler

“I Love Lucy,” which is now being remembered in two recent biopics, was TV’s first mega-hit, attracting an astronomical weekly audience of about 11 million families in 1951-52, its first season on the air; this at a time when there were only 15 million TV sets in the entire country, according to The Hollywood Reporter .

But for me, “I Love Lucy” was an anguishing time in my childhood. At least until I saw the light and wised up.

“I Love Lucy” aired on Mondays at 9 p.m., a half-hour past my bedtime. And my parents were not about to let that nightly curfew slip even by 30 minutes, especially “on a school night.” And so, I usually fell asleep on Mondays to the laughter emanating from our new TV and to the dread that awaited me on Tuesday.

This unbendable parental edict made my Tuesdays a living hell in school because that was when all my friends and classmates reviewed the previous night’s episode,