Floyd Davis had no formal art training, but learned on the job, working his way from lithography apprentice to being an accomplished illustrator for magazines like Woman's Home Companion, American Magazine, and a long run at the Saturday Evening Post (yet, for the last, he only did one cover). Davis first established his artistry as someone who could capture the rich, beautiful people of the 1920s: dashing, mustachioed men; the cool, svelte women. But Davis was just as capable at capturing just-plain-folk, and with a cartoonist's sensibilities and a fresh humor, he expanded into story art and ad work that called characters of every persuasion. Davis' early career was almost derailed by love. He returned from WWI duty to work at Grauman Brothers, Chicago. When a woman artist was hired, Davis was so distracted, that the woman had to be let go. She still preoccupied his mind, so he courted her, then became his wife, and an arguably more famous artist, Gladys Rockmore Davis (when asked for interviews, he'd quip, "Why bother with me when there is a real artist in the family?" In 1961, he was inducted into the Society of Illustrator's Hall of Fame.