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Betty Crocker has undergone transformationsover the years.  The latest makeover she had was in 1996.  There was a whole scientific study done before changing her look.  In fact, a large group of American were taken, and their features were incorporated, so that Betty doesn’t look like a particular woman, but many women.   There are whole sites devoted to the racial makeup of the new Betty, some downright scholarly.

One report goes on to say: “The perception of what is typically American is also shifting. The old Betty Crocker symbolized the blending or mixing of bakery ingredients. The new Betty Crocker symbolizes the blending or mixing of races. The racial average of a population is its racial destiny, the racial future. The new Betty Crocker is a symbol of our intended future. The racial destiny of the American population is to be “Betty Crockerized,” its ingredients blended together toward the racial average, and cooked in the racial meltdown of the “melting pot.” 

The next time someone asks me about my friends who adopted two international children, I am just going to say that they have a “Crockerized” family.   I am sure that will go over well.   As far as my friends go, it is the first, and only marriage for both of them, otherwise if it wasn’t and they both came with kids from a previous marriage, I think “blended family” would just be rude.  I’ll call them a “KitchenAid” or “Cuisinart” family and people would think I am totally off my rocker or insensitively assuming my friends are such culinary aficianados that they would think the reference was cute.

More so than mulling over such serious topics, I thought it would be much more fun to ask:

Which Betty are you?

I am not so much asking what you physically look like, but which Betty Crocker embodies your attitude?

Are you the new Betty who is neat but casual, shown prominently on my site?    Are you the 1972 Betty with the Ann Landers hair, ready to dole out sassy kitchen advice?**

I think I am more like 1965 Betty.   I think I always wanted to have flipped hair, except I came of age during the era of the spiral perms and peacock’s butt hair.    My hair would have probably wanted to be more of a “That Girl” flip, though, which came later.   I would carry my proper little purse, but wear miniskirts.  Betty and me would be like Barbie and Midge. Midge was always slightly more mod than Barbie.  Or I would be Little Sister Skipper.

I would, as 1965 Betty, like to make things that required serving pieces that you only used for that particular dish and were useless otherwise.  For example, clam shell plates for clams casino, that you wouldn’t use any other time.

I know my choice is a little superficial…let’s see what you come up with.

Which Betty would you be?    

Choose from the Bettys  (Betties? Betty’s?) above.

Below: 1986 Betty vs 1930s Betty

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(**= My Mom was 1972 Betty Crocker.  She taped Ann Landers and Dear Abby Columns to my bedroom door)

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 13th, 2010 at 12:58 am and is filed under foggy history. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

4 Responses to “Which Betty Are You?”

JD at I Do Things Says:

I rather like the look of the 1965 Betty. I bet she was a lot of fun, actually. She was professional in the kitchen, but you know she was at Woodstock, dancing in the mud.

I like the idea of “Crockerized” kids. My cousin has two adopted children from other lands, and I think I’ll suggest that to her. However, she has no sense of humor, so I’ll be the only one laughing.

thesnackhound Says:

Or was she? That could have been her younger sister at Woodstock, but it would explain the brownies.

Jen Says:

‘65 looks like more fun than ‘72. I remember when they made the change to ‘72 and there was a bit of an uproar. I don’t know which one I would be since they don’t have one in sweat pants, messed up ponytail and mascara smudges under her eyes. Betty obviously never had children.

Christi Says:

I rather like the Pat Nixon ‘72 Betty. Reminds me how I got here in the first place: still being held (and holding myself) to impossible standards that are all pretty much based on how well I serve my kids and service my husband and give and give and give. Not that I don’t like to do for others, I do. I just wish it wasn’t mandated by a painting of a chick on the side of a box.

I’m not really a Betty. My house is a wreck, I can’t play bridge, I don’t know my best friend’s birthday. I volunteer at school twice/week, but I’m always late and the principal still doesn’t know my name. I haven’t made a meal since 2003, my clothes are left over from 1993, and my hair’s circa 1963.

I kinda think the BC peeps need to get with it and realize women today are trying to be more like the first Betty than the new one. We don’t wanna make box food, we just sometimes have to.

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