2 Great Vintage Photos of Man Exercising

Hurry, these two photos, and a handful more, are currently available on eBay. See seller wolfchris or click here.

2 guys at the beach

Affectionate Soldiers

War is hell. That's why it is so important to enjoy some lighter moments, like bonding with your buddies. These Korean soldiers seem to be having a pretty good time. Do I sense perhaps a bit of an obsession with the crotchal area? Hmm.

Young Athlete

Handsome young athlete in a formal studio pose, wearing his letter sweater. Let me guess, Vermont? There's something compelling about the simplicity and sense of calm. And something timeless about the guy.

Although undated, it is likely from the 1920s. Check it out at homobilia.com

Russian Strongman

Very cool photo circa 1909-13, from an album of 63 real photo postcards.

It isn't all that unusual. A male nude, seen from the side/rear. This was a time and place before posing straps were thought necessary.

However, this guy is either on his way to rob a bank or very concerned about protecting his anonymity. Or maybe he's just into some kinky scenes. Love the striped socks too.

Any way you look at it, it's hot.

By the way, the album sold at auction recently for $3,200 plus a 22.5% buyers premium. Good homobilia doesn't come cheap!

Vintage photo of a man with a bubble butt. Why?

When I look at this photo of "Ratzy" I imagine nudging his legs apart, kneeling between them and lowering my body on top of his. I want to feel that perfect butt pressed against my groin, the warmth of his skin against mine.

My question is: Why was this picture taken?

It dates from the 1940s, and came from a family photo album that includes guys in the military, lots of horsing around, and the common snapshots of Mother and babies and Cookie the dog. So why then, a photo like this which seems so obviously homoerotic?

Was it meant to be funny? Was the photographer simply oblivious to the male beauty on display? We'll never know.

Whatever the intent, it has found a new, appreciate audience.

Sculpture Studio

This undated (1930s?) press photo has the timeless appeal of two nude men. Very hot nude men. Soapy nude men. But that's not what makes it so interesting (well, not entirely).

What publication was going to publish this strange picture and what's really going on?

There are in fact three models. A woman, light reflecting off one bare breast, stands between and behind the men. She's waiting her turn to wash off whatever it is they have apparently all be painted with. Her gaze is down and away. She's reduced to part of the background.

On the left we have one dark haired model who can't quite seem to stop rubbing his muscular belly with a soapy rag. He watches as his fellow model lifts one shapely leg to the rim of the washtub.

He too looks down and away from the camera. Maybe a hint of a smile? Does he realize how beautiful he is?


Also in this little tableau we see, standing towards the back of the studio, three more men. One peaks out from behind the curtain on the left, another stands obscured the model, and then there's the sculptor in his crisp white smock, hand on hip.

He watches too, with an expression that seems wistful. So much beauty, so close by-- he could just extend a hand to help with those hard-to-reach places. He fantasizes because he knows (as we do) that it can never happen. OK, OK, OK. But there's a odd quality of stillness, sadness. Everyone seems not so much posed as frozen in time.

Together the two models bring to mind the Kouroi of the ancient world, and thanks to Wikipedia we found the double kouros of Kleobis and Biton, sons of Cydippe, a priestess of Hera. Now that's a sad story.

Turns out Cydippe was running late for a feast in honor of Hera, and her two strong sons pulled her oxcart the entire way. Cydippe was so impressed with their devotion she prayed to Hera to give them the best gift a god could give a mortal.

Hera ordained that the brothers would die in their sleep. After the feast they lay down in the temple, fell asleep, and never woke.

Thank you Hera.

This photo is available at Homobilia.com.

More from Albert's photo album

Back in Carlton Studios. Luton has found a better angle to photograph our friend Albert Edward Pritchard. From the side and slightly behind. This time he's printed the card in a deep rich sepia-tone.

Albert's (he doesn't seem like an "Al." Maybe he went by his middle name-- Edward-- he seems more like an Eddie) Albert's blond hair is combed back, his face in profile against the drapery. Chest out, stomach in, butt cheeks concealed.



Is it my imagination or does he seem to be more at ease? A little more self-confident.

Still, there's that same slightly quizzical expression as he turns to look back at the photographer, that same gentleness about him. Bodybuilder, model, and a collector of physique photos. You add it up.

Sadly there are no other photos of him in the album. And it is unlikely we'll ever find another.




So turning the page to gaze at the next photo, the new mystery.

A series of three pretty racy pictures of an extremely well-defined young strongman.

Not quite so shy as Eddie, this anonymous athlete stands naked (not nude) in front of Luton's camera. The position of his hands conveniently eliminates any need for fig leaf or posing strap.

But stay tuned, there are more revealing photos to come....

Muscle Daddy

From an album of real photo postcards collected by one Albert Edward Pritchard come an assortment of 43 strongmen, both famous and anonymous. We know little about Mr. Pritchard. His address in New Cross, Southeast of Central London, is little over half a mile from Carlton Studios, where most of the photos were taken by P. W. Luton.

One card is identified as A. Pritchard.

For a muscleman it is a strange, almost non-pose. Palms up, fingers cupped slightly. Perhaps he's flexing his biceps but it seems more like he's approaching-- slowly, timidly, as a supplicant. Which brings us to that face. Sweet. Almost pretty. His slightly furrowed brow seems to ask: "Is this OK?" On his lips the barest hint of a Mona Lisa smile.

If this photo was taken around 1920 and he was maybe 20 years old, Mr. Pritchard is now, according to my calculations, 108 years of age. How strange to see him frozen in time, in his youth, in his prime. To hold these photos as he once held them. To gaze at the images of male beauty that he assembled in his album more than 80 years ago. Makes me wonder.

More photos to come...