the good old days

Today’s selection is brought to you from Edith B. Ordway’s 1920 The Etiquette of To-Day. Hurray for Project Gutenberg.

Wedding Presents

… The usual form of wedding gift is something of use and ornament for the new house. Silver, linen, cut glass, or china for the dining-room, furniture, rugs, lamps, clocks, vases, books, and pictures, or bric-a-brac for the rest of the house, are all appropriate….

The wedding gift should be a real gift in spirit, something expressive of the giver’s good wishes, and something which the bride and bridegroom can enjoy and appreciate for its worth to them. Foolish things, whether expensive or not, have no real utility or beauty, and have always the atmosphere of insult about them, or else always reflect upon the intelligence of the giver.

A bride should acknowledge all gifts as soon as they are received, and before her wedding day if possible. Spontaneous rather than stereotyped notes of thanks are preferable. They should show appreciation of the gift, and include the name of the bridegroom-elect in her expression of their gratitude. A bride should remember that too elaborate notes, which are a grave tax on her strength or time in the busy days preceding a wedding, are unwise, as is any other unnecessary expenditure of energy.

It is never obligatory to send a wedding present. The wedding announcement and wedding invitation are equally suggestive of such gifts, for in either case, whether one is invited to the ceremony or not, one is perfectly free to do as he pleases about conferring a gift.

I have attended a couple of cousins’ weddings within the last year or two. Each couple got something selected from their registry; I try to pick out something between “potato masher” and “set of eight highly expensive cut glass goblets”, as that’s both appropriate for my finances and also where the more interesting/expressive gifts tend to be. (I think I might have bought Bill a few random kitchen utensils, though.)

I haven’t received a thank-you note from either couple yet. While I hardly expected thanks “before [the] wedding day”, I did expect something. Seriously. My four-year-old daughter knows how to write very few words, but her name and “Thank You” are at the top of the list. If you’re getting married, you’re obviously over four.

This afternoon, my four-year-old daughter manufactured her first memory.

She has a cow-shaped book with a little microchip and button setup; when you squeeze a certain part of it, it says (surprise) “MOOOOO”. Since we were on a fairly long road trip, she didn’t have a lot to do except push the button over and over and over and over.

MOOOOO
MOOOOO
MOOOOO
MOOOOO
MOOOOO

Amazingly, I didn’t go bat-shit insane during 10 minutes steady of MOOOOOing. After a while, though, we noticed that the cow seemed to be getting a little tired.

MOOOOo
MOOOoo
MoooOO
MooOOo

So, I used this as a great excuse opportunity to preserve the cow’s power, and told my daughter it needed to take a break or the battery would die.

This fascinated her, and she discussed how hard it would be to change the battery. I agreed it would be hard (cutting the book open, figuring out the little circuit and where its battery lived, replacing the battery, fixing the book) and thanked her for stopping.

Five minutes later, she was discussing how when she was a baby, she had made the book MOOOOO so much that the battery had died. “No, dear, that hasn’t happened yet. I asked you to stop so that battery wouldn’t die.” She kept insisting I had already replaced it once, though.

I suppose I’d far rather have her recovering inventing a memory like that, than twenty years from now deciding we’d put her through extensive physical and sexual abuse.

In the 1930’s, Chevrolet and Jam Handy made a few films about being a polite, safe driver.

The Other Fellow stars Edgar Kennedy as every driver on the road, making things slightly confusing. (It’s extra difficult for the modern viewer who desperately tries to recall who Edgar Kennedy was.*)

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The driving effects make you want to scream and duck as Kennedy violently swerves around. But, you’re reassured that a Chevy has a loud horn (can’t thank the film-makers enough for all that honking), includes hydraulic brakes (explicitly mentioned) in the car, and apparently will not take damage when bumped into by other cars.

So what safe driving lesson do we learn? (1) Buy a Chevy! (2) Let other drivers know what you’re going to do (it isn’t clear how that keeps other drivers from backing into your car while it’s parked at a curb, which happens repeatedly to Edgar Kennedy Clone #17) by using hand signals. And that bit of advice completely removes the film from the category of “possibly relevant to modern drivers”.

* If you’re interested in old films, Edgar Kennedy was one of the comedians of Keystone Studio, starring with the likes of Fatty Arbuckle and Charlie Chaplin. He was in hundreds of films, which is less surprising when you realize how short many films were back in the early days of Hollywood.

It’s weird looking back at different media struggling to reconcile “men want to go on dates and have a good time with women” with “men want to marry a woman who knows how to cook, clean, raise kids, all while wearing high heels”. The mental hygiene genre of classroom films tend to push you in the latter direction. Comic books, however…

Here’s a bit of vintage dating advice.

IF, YOU FEEL YOU’RE NOT AS POPULAR AS YOU MIGHT BE, ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE AS ALERT AS YOU COULD BE? PERHAPS THE FELLOW WHO WORKS AT THE NEXT DESK IS A LITTLE SHY–MAYBE HE’S BEEN THROWING HINTS YOUR WAY AND YOU HAVEN’T BEEN CATCHING THEM!

PERHAPS YOU’RE SO BUSY WAITING FOR YOUR DREAM MAN TO COME ALONG YOU’RE OVERLOOKING SOME VERY GOOD BETS! SOMETIMES A GIRL HAS SUCH A DETAILED PICTURE OF HER “HERO” IN MIND THAT SHE OVERLOOKS HIM IF HE SHOULD SHOW UP IN SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT GARB!

Rule 1: Stop being so damn picky. No wonder you’re single if you won’t eat food you hate and don’t date anybody who asks.

ARE YOU MAKING THE MOST OF AVAILABLE OPPORTUNITIES TO MEET YOUNG MEN YOUR AGE? IN SHORT, DO YOU GO PLACES WHERE THE YOUNG MEN ARE? JOIN A SOCIAL CLUB OR TRY THE SWIMMING POOL AT THE LOCAL “Y”! YOU MIGHT BE SURPRISED AT THE RESULTS!

ARE YOU TOO ANXIOUS? DOES YOUR WHOLE ATTITUDE ADVERTISE THE FACT THAT YOU’RE MAN HUNGRY? BE CAREFUL NOT TO SCARE POTENTIAL DATES AWAY WITH OVER EAGERNESS!

Rule 2: Flaunt your stuff. Guys don’t want to meet your parents, they want to see what you look like in a bathing suit.

THIS IS NO TIME TO BE TOO PROUD! LET YOUR FRIENDS KNOW YOU’D LIKE TO MEET SOME ELIGIBLE YOUNG MEN! THEY’RE USUALLY VERY GLAD TO COOPERATE!

ARE YOU FRIENDLY AND SWEET TO EVERYONE–NOT JUST THE MEN ON WHOM YOU WANT TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION! PERHAPS–JUST PERHAPS THE NICE OLD COUPLE DOWN THE STREET MAY BE THE ONES TO INTRODUCE YOU TO HIM IF THEY LIKE YOU!

Rule 3: It’s all about networking. Swallow your pride, girls, you need to settle! Grab whatever your friends and neighbors scrape together. See Rule 1.

And just in case you’re wondering — modern tips for increasing your dateability (found by Google, of course) include things like having lots of interests, and buying a good digital camera to get a high-quality picture for your profile at online dating sites. I don’t know if that’s much of an improvement.

I got these images from Lady, That’s My Skull originally, but can’t find the exact post now.

I wonder what the modern hotel would do in response to a letter from a female guest who wished to inform them she would have no male companion.

Ladies Alone In American Hotels

If you have never been in a hotel alone but you are of sufficient years, well behaved and dignified in appearance, you need have no fear as to the treatment you will receive. But you should write to the hotel in advance—whether here or in Europe. In this country you register in the office and are shown to your room, or rooms, by a bell-boy—in some hotels by a bell-boy and a maid….

A lady traveling alone with her maid (or without one), of necessity has her meals alone in her own sitting-room, if she has one. If she goes to the dining-room, she usually takes a book because hotel service seems endless to one used to meals at home and nothing is duller than to sit long alone with nothing to do but look at the tablecloth, which is scarcely diverting, or at other people, which is impolite.

I am not entirely sure why she bothered to separate American and European hotels, as the guidelines are roughly the same: write in advance.

Ladies Traveling Alone In Europe

Europeans can not possibly understand how any lady of social position can be without a maid. A lady traveling alone, therefore, has this trifling handicap to start with. It is a very snobbish opinion, and one who has the temerity to attempt traveling all by herself has undoubtedly the ability to see it through. She need after all merely behave with extreme quietness and dignity and she can go from one end of the world to the other without molestation or even difficulty—especially if she is anything of a linguist.

In going from one place to another, it is wiser to write as long as possible ahead for accommodations—possibly giving the name of the one (if any) who recommended the hotel. But in going far off into Asia or other “difficult” countries, she would better join friends or at least a personally conducted tour, unless she has the mettle of a Burton or a Stanley.

I had already planned this post when I read last week’s post Lone Female Traveller at Skepchick. Take a gander at that as well; the hooker stereotype certainly explains why you might write to the hotel in advance (what prostitute does that?), but Emily Post unfortunately did not provide advice on dealing with the in-room porn choices

Today’s selection is brought to you from Etiquette (1922). Hurray for Project Gutenberg.

Safety Through Seat Belts was University of California Institute of Transportation and Traffic Engineering. A lot of the film concentrates on the fascinating, innovative research into automobile collisions that was being done by the UC engineers. But, it’s also got flying crash test dummies and photographs of accident victims to reinforce the point that seat belts are a very good idea. And also a few stock footage shots of jets flying in formation to emphasize… um… something about safety?

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Why the “new technologies” tag, you might ask? Seat belts. They weren’t really new in 1959, but they weren’t required by law in most places yet; it was still something of a luxury item. Watching the dummies get hurled around due to a 30 mph collision is actually a pretty good motivator to buckle up. But then again, I’ve never understood why some people won’t. (I had somebody tell me once they didn’t use a seatbelt because the government required it, and they took an ethical stand against that sort of meddling in a citizen’s personal life. Hope that works out for you when you’re flying through your windshield…)

Late in World War II, the US Department of the Treasury put out Mr. and Mrs. America to encourage citizens on the homefront to buy war bonds.

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Full of images of death and more death, it also offers optimistic promise that eventually this will be over. The bond not only wins the war, but secures the peace. “The America To Be: Where will you stand in it?” I loved seeing immigrants and minorities included in the testimonials of bond buyers, but the dull narration by the head of the Treasury rather ruined its impact.

One thing odd about “modern” wars is how little involvement is asked of civilians. Unlike wars before 1950, today there is no request for Americans to sacrifice or participate. Obviously we all pay for it with our taxes, but that’s somewhat indirect; it’s not immediate, like growing a Victory Garden, rationing, or conserving fuel. The burden today falls almost fully on military families, and is almost fully emotional.

Yesterday’s For Better or For Worse annoyed me. Not because it’s really offensive or something like that; it’s just sort of vapidly stupid.

Elizabeth and Anthony haven’t declared a date yet? What modern fiddle-faddle! These young people with their indefinite declarations of commitment — bah!

Uh, how old are you, neighbor lady? Thirty-ish years ago when you got married, there were plenty of engaged people who didn’t finalize their wedding plans the instant a ring went on their finger. Back a hundred years ago, “engaged” was not synonymous with “our invitation is in the mail, please save the date”. There has always been a great deal of leeway given to an engaged couple, because people’s circumstances (both financial and emotional) vary widely and it’s not always feasible to declare definite milestones. It’s not like they’re going to forget to get married, especially with you asking every day, “So when’s the big day?”

Maybe in 8,000,000 B.C.E., Caveboy and Cavegirl went to their respective caveparents, announced their engagement, showed off the engagement rock (literally, of course, a rock), and informed them the date was already set. I mean, according to Clan of the Cave Bear, everyone just shacked up and had lots of sex whenever they felt like it, but since Clan of the Cave Bear is a terrible book, I’m pretty sure that our hypothetical cavecouple would have done The Right Thing and scheduled their caveceremony promptly.

I think (but am not positive) that “old gray flannel wrapper” is essentially a bathrobe. I can not quite fully endorse Ms. Post’s proposal that bathrobes contribute strongly to the downfall of spousal relationships; but at the same time there is something to be said for a society which frowned on people going to the store in their underwear. (Think middle-aged, overweight, boxer shorts and stained tank top. I’m not prudishly horrified by bikinis or anything.)

The Old Gray Wrapper Habit

How many times has one heard some one say: “I won’t dress for dinner—no one is coming in.” Or, “That old dress will do!” Old clothes! No manners! And what is the result? One wife more wonders why her husband neglects her! Curious how the habit of careless manners and the habit of old clothes go together. If you doubt it, put the question to yourself: “Who could possibly have the manners of a queen in a gray flannel wrapper?” And how many women really lovely and good—especially good—commit esthetic suicide by letting themselves slide down to where they “feel natural” in an old gray flannel wrapper, not only actually but mentally.

The woman of charm in “company” is the woman of fastidiousness at home; she who dresses for her children and “prinks” for her husband’s home-coming, is sure to greet them with greater charm than she who thinks whatever she happens to have on is “good enough.” Any old thing good enough for those she loves most! Think of it!

A certain very lovely lady whose husband is quite as much her lover as in the days of his courtship, has never in twenty years allowed him to watch the progress of her toilet, because of her determination never to let him see her except at her prettiest. Needless to say, he never meets anything but “prettiest” manners either. No matter how “out of sorts” she may be feeling, his key in the door is a signal for her to “put aside everything that is annoying or depressing,” with the result that wild horses couldn’t drag his attention from her—all because neither she nor he has ever slumped into the gray flannel wrapper habit.

So many people save up all their troubles to pour on the one they most love, the idea being, seemingly, that no reserves are necessary between lovers. Nor need there be really. But why, when their house looks out upon a garden that has charming vistas, must she insist on his looking into the clothes-yard and the ash-can? She who complains incessantly that this is wrong, or that hurts, or any other thing worries or vexes her, so that his inevitable answer to her greeting is, “I’m so sorry, dear,” or “That’s too bad,” or “Poor darling, it’s a shame,” is getting mentally into a gray flannel wrapper!

If something is seriously wrong, if she is really ill, that is different. But of the petty things that are only remembered in order to be told to gain sympathy—beware!

There is a big deposit of sympathy in the bank of love, but don’t draw out little sums every hour or so—so that by and by, when perhaps you need it badly, it is all drawn out and you yourself don’t know how or on what it was spent.

All that has been said to warn a wife from slovenly habits of mind or dress may be adapted to apply with equal force in suggesting a rule for husbands. A man should always remember that a woman’s regard for him is founded on her impressions when seeing him at his best. Even granting that she has no great illusions about men in general, he at his best is at least an approximation to her ideal—and it is his chief duty never to fall below the standard he set for himself in making his most cogent appeal. Consequently he should continue through the years to be scrupulous about his personal appearance and his clothes, remembering the adage that the most successful marriages are those in which both parties to the contract succeed in “keeping up the illusion.” It is of importance also that he refrain from burdening his wife with the cares and worries of his business day. Many writers insist that the wife should be ready to receive a complete consignment of all his troubles when the husband comes home at the end of the day. It is a sounder practise for him to save her as much as possible from the trials of his business hours; and, incidentally, it is the best kind of mental training for him to put all business cares behind him as he closes the door of his office and goes home. When it is said that a husband should not fling all the day’s trifling annoyances into the lap of his wife without reflecting that she may have some cares of her own, there is no intention to indicate that a wife should not have a thorough understanding of her husband’s affairs. Complete acquaintance and sympathy with his work is one of the foundation stones of the domestic edifice.

Today’s selection is brought to you from Emily Post’s 1922 Etiquette. Hurray for Project Gutenberg.

Two management training films. Both attempt to teach men how to deal with having to manage women. (Because women are incomprehensible, I guess.) No real deep message or analysis here, just interesting viewing, especially if you’re a woman who works outside the home.

From 1944, Supervising Women Workers

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Apparently, there were some “new and different problems” involved in women working in factories. (Well, in machine shops, that is. Women were in mills and other industries for years.) Intriguingly, the very appropriate advice to not sexually harass your employees is explained as a way to prevent jealousy between them. Bleargh.

I liked the bit where the guy was demonstrating a lathe.

Now if anybody wants a framspan, give with the left-handed double gerrywrench on account of it might surbobulate the orange crepe to the tappet…

Here’s a tip, Joe: maybe you should have your machine shop instructor use real words instead of total gibberish. No wonder World War II was rough: women were surbobulating things. (Oh, I know, they’re just demonstrating how unfamiliar words can sound like total gibberish. But isn’t it funnier to think of warships built with crepes?)

“Surbobulate” is now my new favorite word to use in the factory. Yeah, I work in a factory — I’m an engineer. And the boys nowadays are just as ignorant as the girls. (No, this doesn’t mean men got dumber in the last sixty years. It means the women were never as stupid as the men feared.)

Take the weak-minded, jealous, defensive women that this film suggests are in factories everywhere. Now take Rosie the Riveter. Which one would you find more inspirational as a potential factory worker recruit?

Moving out of the factory and into the office, we have 1958’s The Bright Young Newcomer

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Once you get past the cringe-worthy use of “girl” to describe all the women in the office, you can get to the root of the manager’s problem: he’s ignoring what happens in his department, even as he promises an employee that he’ll deal with it. He says he’s busy and that’s why he couldn’t deal with it, but it’s pretty clear that he’s busy because ignores his job (MANAGING people) until a situation blows up in his face.

There’s also no particular reason why this scenario should have to have a male manager trying to figure out what to do with the “girls” around him. If it was just to get the probably-male audience more interested in the film’s message by putting lots of breasts and skirts in it, why is Betty so unappealing?