Looney Tunes Vintage Metal Lunchbox (1959): Carrying Your Thermos In Style!

March 24th, 2008 by Scott Marks

Metal lunch pails: Fourth grade fashion accessory or mortiferous recess cudgel?

In 1971 a group of worried sick Floridians presupposed the concept of the metal lunchbox as a prime weapon to settle schoolyard disputes. With reams of signatures in hand the concerned parents marched their petition to the State Legislature demanding “safety legislation” be passed.

Who would have thought the reason lunchboxes initially switched from steel to plastic had nothing to do with cost cutting efforts?

The Golden Age of lunchboxes was ushered in by Hopalong Cassidy. In 1950, Chicago-based Aladdin Industries was the first company to manufacture a children’s lunchbox contingent on a television series. Western kid’s show superstar William Boyd’s likeness was branded on the front side of the box’s hinged lid. Soon ADCO Liberty, American Thermos (later King Seeley Thermos, or KST), Kruger Manufacturing Company, Landers, Frary and Clark (Universal) and numerous others began merchandising TV related tins.

Each box came equipped with a matching thermos — a steel, glass-lined vacuum bottle with a rubber stopper and screw-on cup — guaranteed to keep your soup hot and Kool Aid cool. That is until you dropped it. Even after the slightest fall, one shake and the measure of swirling liquids quickly dissolved into sounds reminiscent of an explosion in a hall of mirrors. The metal shell eventually gave way to plastic and the glass innards were replaced with inferior foam insulation, thus guaranteeing that come lunchtime both soup and Kool Aid would be served up at room temperature.

In the late 80s, early 90s vintage metal lunch kits became sought after high end collectibles. As always, condition was everything: less abrasion meant a higher price tag and several of them fetched over a thousand dollars. For a period, a good chunk of the south wall of Chicago’s Flashback Collectibles was lined from floor to ceiling with desirable boxes. In the time that I worked there, I must have seen every lunch pail from granddaddy Hopalong to contemporary plastic monstrosities like The Smurfs or Strawberry Shortcake.

For a brief period I fancied myself somewhat of a collector, meaning the most number of boxes I ever owned amounted to fifteen. The one that got away was a pristine Beany and Cecil vinyl box. White, without a speck of dirt and not a rip or ding on the entire surface. Steel dents where vinyl rips and the shelf life of these plastic-wrapped-around-cardboard boxes was short. Any vintage vinyl box in mint condition was bound to bring in a minimum of $500. A Barbie vinyl? Don’t ask! It all became a little too rich for my blood.

Of the initial fifteen, only four remain: Two Disney’s (Pinocchio and The Jungle Book), The Munsters and the 1959 Looney Tunes TV box. Growing up I had only one cool lunchbox: The Munsters; the rest of them looked like the nondescript black metal bucket Ed Norton toted to the sewer each day. After one summer at Adventure Day Camp, my colorful Munsters pail resembled a shell casing. The one in my storage locker was purchased at Flashback for $125.00 plus an additional fifty for the thermos. It’s in excellent condition (7+) and as soon as I dig it out, there will be a blog post.

Last week I unearthed my Looney Tunes tin and was delighted to find it still in exceptional shape. (A definite 8+!) There is “slight wear” (another term I learned at Flashback) and with the exception of a small strip along the bottom of the lid (looks like a previous owner used paint thinner to remove scuff marks), I’ve never seen one is such good shape.

I searched to no avail to find the name of the artist responsible for the drawings. If anyone knows, by all means drop a comment. And to those of us that enjoy knowing the price of everything and the value of nothing, this one set me back $175.00.

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