Why This Vintage Device Was a Must-Have for Every Family Back in the Day

The Glow That Cut Through Winter

Think back to those dreary winter days when the sky seemed locked in cloud cover for all eternity. For many, a warm glow in the corner of our grandparents’ living room was the antidote to that dreariness. Among the most no-nonsense of these radiant remnants was the Sperti sunlamp. Hummy and buzzy and sleek and metallic, it could turn a gray afternoon warm and bright.

If you were a child of the ’50s or ’60s, you might remember the pool’s cool blue glow and the way it would cast mysterious shadows on the walls and floor. The sunlamp wasn’t just the eccentric’s kitchen Excalibur. It symbolized a postwar faith that science could reproduce the outside world inside the home.

A Bright Idea with Real Purpose

The Sperti sunlamp was the very essence of midcentury health culture. With its chrome finish and perforated housing, it looked more like a prop in a science fiction movie than a medical instrument. But for a lot of families, this odd contraption was eaten regularly during the winter months. It was simple and daring in purpose; bring the benefits of sunlight into the home with UV light therapy. Whether to bronze the skin, elevate mood or treat certain skin conditions, it represented an era that had faith in invention to alleviate mundane woes.

This technique was developed in the 1930s by Dr. George Sperti. He designed it, Noël reckoned, to bring “natural light” indoors, enabling people to combat depression, treat skin conditions and strengthen their bones with a boost of vitamin D. By the middle of the 20th century, the Sperti sunlamp had taken its place in just about every American home worthwhile — right up there with refrigerators and washing machines. There were ordinary people who believed in science and who believed that science could make their lives better.

Warmth, Wonder, and a Touch of Hope

The sunlamp represented something beyond wellness. It was a fair encapsulation of a more general cultural optimism, a profound conviction in technological progress. After World War II, the world roared into the age of industry, and homes filled with gizmos and gadgets aimed at making life easier. In particular, the Sperti sunlamp was such a symbol of that hope. In long, cold months, families gathered around it, taking comfort in its literal and figurative warmth.

This small device also has a personal flavor of nostalgia. I recall reclining with a magazine in its soft warmth, turning pages of Life. Maybe you remember that, too — the sensation of your parents telling you to close your eyes, lie still and let the warm softness envelop your face. For just a few magical minutes, summer crashed your snowbound living room.

Now, of course, we have better, safer tanning options, but sunlamps evoke something nostalgic. There’s a nostalgia factor — a little romance — to the way they brightened our winters. They harken back to an era when every shiny new gadget was going to make everything and anything in its shining path better, and easier. It’s more than that, too, though: They’re a type of quiet hope — hope that warmth, and light, and comfort can come at the flick of a switch.

The Sperti sunlamp is, in many ways, a quintessential product of the postwar period. It wasn’t just about getting rid of things that weren’t working — it was also about believing in something bright and clear and sunlit. Few use them today (maybe only the Amish, the Luddites and hipsters are the exception), but they remain a shining example of that golden age. Fake sun might help stave off scurvy, but it has long been known to boost men like myself on a cloudy afternoon somewhere on the mainland in winter.