New York ? Have you ever thought about bringing an 8-foot-tall burning torch to a political rally? What about drinking John McCain-brand juice?

Those gestures may sound creepy today, but burning torches were one of the first examples of American campaign memorabilia in the 1800s. And presidential nominees in the 1960s had their names emblazoned on juice cans, including Barry Goldwater’s “gold water” – “The right drink for the conservative taste.”

Some trinkets were signs of the times never to be seen again, like the McKinley parasol, the Eisenhower cigarette pack and the Kennedy paper dress.

Others have evolved. The political button may have gotten its start as coat buttons like the ones made to commemorate Washington’s inauguration in 1789, said Sara Henry, deputy director and chief curator of the Museum of the City of New York.

“This brass button says ‘Long live the president,’ and this one has his initials in the middle,” she said, pointing to the encased artifacts.

But it was not until the middle of the 19th century when all white men got the vote – as opposed to just land owners – that political parties used memorabilia to “sell” candidates to the masses, Henry said.

Tall torches adorned with photos of candidates were passed out during rallies and parades to light the dark streets. Paper lanterns decorated with a candidate’s picture, a rare item because most burned, were also used for campaigning.

William Henry Harrison, elected in 1840, is said to be the first candidate to actively campaign for president, said Larry Bird, curator of the Division of Politics and Reform at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History. In addition to torch poles topped with his signature log cabin, the campaign made domestic items such as women’s brushes and sewing boxes.

There was plenty of negative campaigning, too. One of the earliest examples at the New York exhibit is the Grover Cleveland and Allen Thurman chamber pot from 1888. Then there are the William McKinley pigs. Playing on the phrase, “In a pig’s ass, I’d vote for McKinley,” the little pigs have a hole at the rear that you can look through and see a picture of McKinley.

“You do see a lot of potty humor in American politics,” Henry said. “We haven’t included a lot of it in the exhibit because much of it is just so juvenile.”

William Jennings Bryan, a candidate known for his long speeches, was frequently represented by a coffin along with the phrase, “Talked to death.” And then there’s the McKinley doll. The porcelain and cloth doll, when held upright, is McKinley. When turned upside down, it’s an African-American baby, referring to the accusation he fathered an illegitimate black child.

The post-World War II era was the heyday of memorabilia, says Bird. “I like Ike” nylon stockings were created at a time when women started to expose more of their legs. And as technology advanced, so did the political button, which started off as a lithograph printed directly on metal, says Mort Berkowitz, who has thousands of buttons going back to the 1800s and is also known as “the Button Man.”

When campaigning on television became standard, the focus began to shift. Buttons got bigger, presumably to play to the TV cameras. Candidates spent more money on commercials than tchotchkes.

Bird recalls being unable to get a button at the New Hampshire campaign office for Democratic candidate Paul Simon in 1988, although he could watch a video of the candidate’s biography. “If I’m a candidate, I’d rather have a million people wearing my button than I would have someone just watch my television commercial,” he said.