Saucy Jossie's Wiener Wagon
Pin-Up Inspired Tees & Hoodies
Vintage sass meets modern comfort. Six scandalous designs straight from Grandma Jo's sketchbook that'll make you blush and everyone else stare.

Saucy Jossie's Wiener Wagon
She'll stuff your face and slap your ass before you even say 'with relish.'
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Shop Our Saucy Collection
Premium tees and hoodies featuring six scandalous pin-up designs. Soft, comfortable, and guaranteed to turn heads wherever you go.
Available in sizes XS-3XL. Free shipping on orders over $50!

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Saucy Jossie's Wiener Wagon
She'll stuff your face and slap your ass before you even say 'with relish.'
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Double Trouble
Two mouths. Four buns. No regrets. Just pray your insurance covers the damage.
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Nice Buns Since '42
She'll flip your dogs, toast your buns, and leave you crying in your canteen.
Shop NowAbout Saucy Jossie's
Where the Buns Met the Guns
Before it was a brand, it was a scandal. Before it was a scandal, it was a woman with a hot dog cart, a war to win, and a mouth full of comebacks.
Meet Grandma Jo
Josette "Saucy Jo" Morelli was the kind of woman WWII propaganda posters couldn't quite capture — too curvy for combat boots, too mouthy for debutante balls, and too clever to stay quiet while her husband went off to kill Nazis.
Born in Salisbury, Massachusetts, Jo was the daughter of a lobsterman and a piano teacher. She grew up sandwiched between sharp women, salt air, and summer carnies — which probably explains the hustle, the curves, and the casual comfort with public flirtation.
By 1942, her high school sweetheart Frankie Morelli had been hand-picked by the Allies for a covert Jedburgh unit — parachuted into occupied France with a French resistance liaison, a Tommy gun, and one very simple assignment: Kill Hitler if you get the shot.
So what did Jo do while Frankie was dodging Nazis? She opened a wiener wagon on Hampton Beach — and made history.
The First Weiner Wagon
Her cart stood proud and steaming outside the Hampton Beach Casino Ballroom, just steps from the saltwater. While Glenn Miller played inside and ships passed off the coast, Jo served dogs that dripped with mustard and double meanings.
Her uniform? Victory rolls, red lipstick, heels in the sand, and an apron.
She posed for sailors headed to the Pacific, airmen training out of Grenier Field, Marines just back from island-hopping hell, and army grunts on 48-hour leave. One Massachusetts congressman tried to shut her down in '43 for "moral mischief."
The governor's office sent a thank-you note instead.
Half Patriot, Half Pin-Up
Jo wasn't just sizzle — she had smarts. She split her daily profits 50/50:
- Half went straight to the war effort — in the form of Red Cross-donated socks, smuggled Lucky Strikes, and rubber goods discreetly labeled "hymnal sleeves."
- The other half she tucked away in a Liberty Bond account that would eventually buy the 80-acre farm in Ipswich where she and Frankie would raise a family.
Every wiener slung helped win the war — or at least made it more comfortable.
She Had Clout with the Combat Boots
Thanks to Frankie's deep-in-the-shadows military connections, Jo had an unusual pass across all branches:
- The Air Corps dubbed her "The Final Approach."
- The Navy called her "Starboard Snack."
- The Army mostly just stood in line and hoped to get noticed.
- And the Marines? They showed up early, shirtless, overconfident, and sweaty — and left quieter, hungrier, and strangely respectful.
She was invited to Portsmouth ship launches, Fort Devens mess halls, and even the Boston Garden USO tour stop in '44. She turned down multiple pin-up calendars — opting instead for one-off photos mailed to troops with the note:
"Come home hungry."
From Spotlight to Soil
When V-E Day came, Jo was ready.
In July of 1945, Frankie stepped off the train in Haverhill with a chest full of ribbons and a French bullet still in his hip. He tossed his rucksack into the back of Jo's old truck, grabbed her face, and kissed her like he had 800 days of waiting to make up for.
And just like that — she quit.
She hung up the apron, packed away the posters, and left Hampton Beach behind. They bought a farm near Castle Hill in Ipswich, raised three rowdy daughters, and never once mentioned the war again.
"I did my part, now I just want to grow tomatoes and squeeze my husband's ass."— Saucy Jo Morelli, 1945
Today, The Sass Lives On
Her granddaughter Jossie now carries the torch — or the tongs, depending on the day.
With t-shirts instead of sausages and jokes dirtier than the North Shore after Labor Day, Saucy Jossie's Weiner Wagon is a tribute to Jo's charm, grit, and scandalous sense of civic duty.
Because when you serve buns this hot, patriotism is just the appetizer.