That same year, live model and clay mannequin, Helen, appeared on the cover of Life magazine. She was sculpted by Lillian Greneker, whose company was based in New York City.

Helen was a cool Hollywood type that said, "I'm it, don't touch me."

Also, in New York, Mary Brosnan, who sculpted mannequins for D.G. Williams, was creating coolly sensuous, sophisticated ladies. A photo of the D.G. Williams' showroom in 1943 pictures a mannequin lounging luxuriously on the floor -- perhaps in anticipation of the servicemen coming back from the war.

Male mannequins of the time, though, lost their sense of body awareness and became similar to plastic Army men.

Some American male forms in the late '40s actually resembled the popular television puppet, Howdy Doody. Their stances were extremely awkward and clumsy.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, the self-assured father-type came into vogue. Sitting or standing by the barbecue in oversized pants and shirts, these figures would sometimes puff casually away on a pipe.

Berrango of California attempted to bring a sense of masculinity and action to the all-American father types. Even a bowler was created.

After the war, a great many female mannequins were sculpted in extremely glamorized Hollywood poses. They were quite literally placed on pedestals, indeed a contrast from the reality of war years when women had worked in the factories facing untold perils.

Some were almost madonna-like in their appearance. Another extreme included voluptuous diving figures by Wolf & Vine (today, the company is known as Greneker/Wolf & Vine) in the United States.

In Italy, however, Peter La Rosa (the company is still in existence in Milan) was creating figures that were slightly more upbeat.

One of La Rosa's figures even looked as though she was snapping her fingers to the "Boogie Woogie".