An awesome video from BBC’s Look Around You on The Petticoat 5: The first computer designed just for women. “The computer was created by Patricia (her surname is silent).”
Watch and be amazed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GThtMAZGYU
While clearly satire, I love how this precisely hits so many key points about products for/marketing to women.
Gawd I love Roseanne. There are about one million reasons to; here’s one more.
A very special quote from a very special article, And I Should Know, Barr had published at NYMag:
Based on Two and a Half Men’s success, it seems viewers now prefer their comedy dumb and sexist. Charlie Sheen was the world’s most famous john, and a sitcom was written around him. That just says it all. Doing tons of drugs, smacking prostitutes around, holding a knife up to the head of your wife—sure, that sounds like a dream come true for so many guys out there, but that doesn’t make it right! People do what they can get away with (or figure they can), and Sheen is, in fact, a product of what we call politely the “culture.”
After seeing one episode of Two and a Half Men, I (no prude, mind you) was aghast that this subject matter was on during the first hour of prime-time, a slot usually reserved for family programming. Even if I didn’t have children, or it aired later at night, I wouldn’t have watched it because I don’t enjoy misogynistic television.
I also eschewed the show because I dislike Sheen. I knew the allegations about Sheen and his abusive behavior were true. Even before I experienced domestic violence in my first marriage. And I have no problems not backing an abuser, no problem refusing to add my consumer clout to a celebrity brand — especially when they refuse to get help, continually mock their victims, and act entitled to their “right” to control and harm others.
And I don’t understand why more people don’t do this, don’t refuse to line the pockets of violent losers who hurt people.
I don’t know what Sheen’s entire problem is; and I really don’t care because he has a wealth of resources and people to support him in his hour lifetime of need. But even if it’s only due in part to the “culture” Roseanne refers to, we all end up paying for it; so why perpetuate it?
My area of the Twitterverse is a-fire with tweets about this idiotic post by Roger Helmer MEP:
Words like “rape” and “murder” cover a spectrum of activities, and degrees of culpability. Let’s consider a couple of murder scenarios.
First, suppose a kidnapper seizes the son of a wealthy family, and extorts money from the parents. Then after the ransom is paid, he seeks to cover his tracks by deliberately murdering his hostage.
Second scenario: a young husband returns home to find his bride in flagrante delicto with the milkman. In a fit of blind rage, the husband attacks the milkman, who dies of his injuries.
In both cases the assailant is guilty of murder, and deserves to be convicted and punished. But the cases are hugely different. In the first case, the murder is calculated, premeditated, deliberate and undertaken for money. In the second case, none of these comments applies. In the first case, I’d happily hang the murderer (I’m part of that retrograde majority which still believes in the death penalty). In the second case, a much more lenient sentence would be appropriate.
In the same way, let’s consider two rape scenarios.
The first is the classic “stranger-rape”, where a masked individual emerges from the bushes, hits his victim over the head with a blunt instrument, drags her into the undergrowth and rapes her, and the leaves her unconscious, careless whether she lives or dies.
The second is “date rape”. Imagine that a woman voluntarily goes to her boyfriend’s apartment, voluntarily goes into the bedroom, voluntarily undresses and gets into bed, perhaps anticipating sex, or naïvely expecting merely a cuddle. But at the last minute she gets cold feet and says “Stop!”. The young man, in the heat of the moment, is unable to restrain himself and carries on.
In both cases an offence has been committed, and the perpetrators deserve to be convicted and punished. But whereas in the first case, I’d again be quite happy to hang the guy, I think that most right-thinking people would expect a much lighter sentence in the second case. Rape is always wrong, but not always equally culpable.
My two scenarios also give the lie to one of the popular over-simplifications trotted out by the feminist tendency in these cases: “Rape is always about power and control and domination, never about sex”. In the first case, that may well be true. In the second case, it is clearly not true.
Let me make another point which will certainly get me vilified, but which I think is important to make: while in the first case, the blame is squarely on the perpetrator and does not attach to the victim, in the second case the victim surely shares a part of the responsibility, if only for establishing reasonable expectations in her boyfriend’s mind.
All I can say I’ve said before. So here’s a, “Thanks for giving males permission to be dumb animals with no ability to control themselves, jerk,” to Roger — and anyone else who agrees with his dangerous bullshit.
A quick news item found in the May 1, 1944 issue of Pathfinder magazine; with links added by yours truly:
Equal Rights
Pledging support to candidates in the coming election that favor the Equal Rights Amendment, the National Council of the National Woman’s Party has asked President Roosevelt for an early audience for the 27 national organizations that are supporting “woman’s rights,” so the President “may hear their views on this issue.”
You know, by now, that I collect horde vintage magazines, publications, newspapers, and other ephemera. (If not, please send me your recipe for Denial Sauce; the anti-women politics of the time are hard on me.) So I’m completely smitten with Women’s Page History: “A blog devoted to women’s page editors beginning during World War II (when many women were hired by the newsrooms until the war ended) through the early 1970s when the women’s pages were transformed into lifestyle sections.”
Yummy!
The blog is run by Dr. Kimberly Voss, of whom I am more than a bit jealous… I long for some sort of credentials to make my piles of old paper legit. *sigh*
I know, I know; she has a piece of paper, I have a piece of paper. (As in degrees.) And I know that some would argue that (stupid) adage, “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.” Let me say again how stupid that adage is — very.
But the word “professor” before your name has more than a cache — it has the clout that opens doors. As in getting your phone calls routed properly, messages and emails returned, etc. Of that, I am envious.
Of course, my biggest problem is not specializing — not narrowing my focus. (Watch comments at this post for a link from my other blog, Inherited Values, on that.)
Ooooh, what’s that glossy magazine cover there!
…Where was I?
On a related — to me, anyway — note, check out Jen But Never Jenn (who I met through a mutual fascination of vintage living). She made her sister and her future brother-in-law a magazine timeline as a “sense of what it was like NOW vs. THEN.” Amusing, yes. But also an awesome way to put your collection to good use.
I know what the sign is, where I found it, and that it’s likely circa the 1940s, but even though the sign reads “No Deception Club,” I have no idea what it’s for… Any ideas?
This vintage travel photo is awesome on its own, but it’s also a culmination of many posts I’ve made today! (Hint: That means all but one of the the links are to my posts at other blogs. It will be like you traveling with me!)
Life magazine posted it at Tumblr, saying:
Hostel? Clean? Those two words in the same sentence? Wow, what a foreign concept for many of us— let’s take a trip back to When Hostels Were Clean (yes, once upon a time they were clean…)
We want to hear from you: tell us about your worst hostel experience.
I don’t think this is a true hostel; it looks like a motel. I would also accept the inaccurate use of hotel. But not a hostel. It’s not just my experience which says so; I look at a lot of (and post a lot) of vintage travel images. But in any case, note how mom has her portable hairdryer in hand. Americans probably wouldn’t bother to bring a hairdryer to a hostel… However, you would bring one before you bring a child.
Speaking of vintage hairdryers…
Traveling with one is preferred over packing your vacuum. Even if it can clean and double as a hairdryer.
Anyway, I’m lovin’ following Life at Tumblr (this is me at Tumblr, in case you wanna follow me there); I also posted this about Life’s contest tomorrow.
According to this ad for Bulova watches, it’s time for a pajama party. Circa 1963; via Simple Dreams.
Cameron:There’s nothing gays hate more than when people treat us like women. We’re not. We don’t want to go to your baby shower. We don’t have a time of the month. We don’t love pink.
Mitchell: You love pink.
Cameron: No, pink loves me.
I had mixed emotions about this past week’s episode of Modern Family… I don’t think gay men are women or should be treated like them, but the attitude about women was practically sneering, as if, again, there’s nothing lower than being a woman.
“For attractive lips, speak words of kindness. For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.” – Audrey Hepburn. I would add: then take a shower, eat a hoagie and throw some lip-gloss on, because no one wants to be the starving, bleeding-lipped weirdo with kid junk in her hair.
From Marie-Helene Bertino’s Literary Debutante Ball Fashion Advice, where she also gives this wise nugget:
“Stop talking about your phone.” – One Clue to Becoming an Interesting Person, Marie-Helene Bertino
Amen.
And, for those not yet an interesting person, this would include iPads, laptops, book-readers, tablets and other tech gadgets. Wait to be asked — and even then, keep it short.
Image via Vicki @ Nostalgic Collections.
I’ve fallen in love with a newly discovered blog: Visual Arts Library Picture & Periodicals Collections, part of New York’s School of Visual Arts. And not just because David Pemberton, the Periodical/Reference Librarian who runs the blog, linked to my (obsessively detailed) post on The Mentor magazine, either. (Though I am a sucker for librarians and curators — and links don’t exactly hurt.) No, I’m in love with this new-to-me blog because of it’s content.
Sure, the visuals are great — as you’d expect from a visual arts school library. But it’s more than that. It’s the writing. Not just the historical context I crave, but the frank tone I adore. Such as the delightful description of National Lampoon Magazine as having “heaping sides of boob and toilet humor.” (I know I’m a fan of heaping boobs and even side-boob *wink* I’ve even succumb to toilet humor plenty of times.)
But the best part is the mix of selected offerings. Again using the National Lampoon post, look at this gem from the August 1975 issue:
Many of the magazines have embedded publications in them that parody other actual publications, such as this one that is supposed to have been put out by the state of Mississippi Bar Association featuring articles on “Closing Those Loopholes in Mississippi Lynch Law” and “No-Fault Rape–New Concepts to Protect Our Menfolk:”
I’m absolutely dying to read that! I bet most of the satirical messages are still relevant today. But then I love to read what I collect. …How else can I obsessively research it, over-analyze it, blog about it?
Sometimes being 46 years old — and a woman — is an amazing thing. I’m often fascinated by the cultural shifts I’ve witnessed; too often dismayed by the cultural shifts promised which have not occurred, been set further back even… But it sure has been a shifty four decades.
I often wonder if other individual women in other generations have anything to compare…
I’ve thought my Great Aunt M had lived through some amazing changes — suffrage, working during WWII and returning back home when the men came back to claim “their” jobs, the choice not to have children in the atomic family age… Amazing cultural shifts in one lifetime.
I’ve long been aware of my mother’s experience — but usually from the point of view of what it’s been like to have been her daughter. She was the first and only mom I knew who consistently worked outside of the home. At first it may have just been for the money; waitressing and the like. But by the late 70’s she was progressing from “just an office job” to reading The Assertive Woman
But just a few days ago I had an astonishing talk with my mother which made me reexamine just what it must have been like for her…
She and I had been discussing how different my sister and I are (I’ve always said that if we hadn’t been born sisters, we never would have met), and I said, “I could understand it better if she and I had been born further apart, but there’s only a year and a half separating us — we were raised by the same parents, at the same time in their lives.”
And then that’s when my mom shared some stories that rocked my brain.
When my mom was in high school, this would be the late 1950s, she wanted a summer job. Her father said he would recommend her to the diaper washing service next to his auto-body shop if she promised to work every single day — not miss one day, or ever be late. She agreed, he made the recommendation, and she got the summer job.
She went in to work every day, all summer long. Then one night, she and her boyfriend — her first love, broke up. She spent all night crying, as teenage girls will do. When she woke up and her father spotted her in the hall, he asked her why she wasn’t yet dressed for work. She responded that she was a mess, that she could barely see through her puffy eyes, that she wouldn’t be going into work that day. Her father looked directly at her, said, “You gave your word,” then turned on his heel and left.
Mom quickly got dressed and to work on time. She never missed one day of work and lived up to her word.
When it came time for her younger sister Vickie, mom’s junior by nine years, to get a summer job, Vickie only worked four days before she quit. Years later, when having some sister-chat, my Aunt Vicki asked her sister, my mother, “Why didn’t they teach me to be responsible, like they did you?”
My mom’s response was, “You came along at a different time in their lives; you were their baby and they had different expectations of you.”
That is probably a fair analysis. And an amazingly insightful, non-spiteful, response from my mother to boot.
But my mom wasn’t done sharing her stories.
A few years after the summer laundry job, my mom worked full-time as a secretary at a finance company. This was at the same time that her brother, Mike, just two years her junior, was working at Pabst. My mom was paying $15 a week in rent to her parents. She thought nothing of it until she discovered that her brother wasn’t paying anything to their parents.
When she asked her parents why she paid rent and her brother did not, the answer (given in that “you’re so silly to ask” tone of condescension) was that “she was working for pin money, but Mike was a man.”
Even though “Mike the man” wasn’t supporting a family (his paycheck went to purchase beer), the assumption was that he was working for a future, that his paycheck and job were more important. He was expected to work; she was not. The price for her frivolity in dabbling in employment was one she would have to pay for.
Even now when I think about this I am amazed. Not just that this greatly shifts my perception of my beloved grandparents, who were a product of their own times, but that my mother who was raised by and living with these people had the guts to question her parents about this gender bias.
But that’s not even the worst of it.
When I expressed my surprise and shock — including that I’d never heard these stories before, my mother shared one more…
This one is about my cousins, Lisa & Danny, who are my Uncle Mike’s kids.
Recently, my cousin Lisa was out to lunch with my mom and she confessed that both she and her brother felt they never pleased their father; Danny for not being a macho sports guy — and Lisa for not being a boy at all. It was so bad that Lisa said, “You know, my mom never read to me. Not once. She read to Danny.” And then she rapidly tacked on — as if risking being accused of being unfair or mean-spirited, “I could listen though.”
Images of a small shy child silently lurking in the doorway while a mother snuggled with a sibling on a bed, reading to him from a book he’d selected… *shudder*
I always wondered why my cousin Lisa was so shy — painfully so. Ill-confident, uncomfortable in her own skin. How can you be anything else when your own parents don’t think you’re worthy of being read to because you’re not a male child?
It sounds the stuff of the 1950s, not the 1960s and 70s… If “America” at all.
But here it is, gender bias bullshit, from real lives, not text book depictions; from my family, some of it even in my lifetime. It’s real. It’s still living here, if only in echos. And poor self esteem.
Image via Steady Mom.
Proof that this look was in fashion for women before there was an American home front and a The War Advertising Council’s Women in War Jobs campaign with Rosie the Riveter.
Scanned from New Fashions For You & Your Home, Spring Summer 1940, published by Singer Sewing Machine Company (I’ve listed it at eBay), this page features patterns by Du Barry.
More scans from this vintage publication at my Tumblr.
I’ve been listing a lot on eBay, so be prepared for observations and odd thoughts on what I find — like this gem: a vintage medical advertising blotter for triple-barbiturate capsules by Wyeth called Ethobral.
“for all patients who cannot sleep…”
“nearest to the ideal hypnotic…”
What strikes me most about this promotional piece is the sexist ageism. First, note that illustration: A little old lady, complete with her hair in the “granny bun,” has what appears to be a box of open chocolates on her lap — and still she weeps.
Above that, in extra-fine print, “Sleep for the menopausal patient.”
We’ve all heard about the misogyny in medicine; we’ve all heard about the medicating of women for all sorts of “mysterious ailments” that men just don’t suffer from. And we all know about the giving away of barbiturates to women as if they were candy. But seeing this, seeing a “menopausal patient” — which can only be female — depicted as a crying grandmother trying to self-medicate, ineffectively and stupidly, with chocolate, as the only image on this advertising piece for medication “for all patients who cannot sleep” drives the point home like a railroad spike. To the chest.
Making a full-time living off being a phone sex operator (PSO) seems the stuff of urban legend these days. Being paid to deliver sex fantasies over the telephone in the digital age of the Internet seems even to make claims of supplemental income from the career dubious at best. But according to the 10 women I interviewed, there’s still money to be made in talking dirty over the phone!
While the general consensus seems to be that the real money is made by independent phone sex operators, all 10 of the phone sex pros stated that working for a phone sex company or in some other facet of the adult industry is the best way to get the lay of the land, so to speak, and begin your new career.
If you are comfortable talking with strangers about intimate matters, how do you begin? With some research online, of course. Many phone sex companies place ads and have their own websites with online applications. When you find a lead on a job, treat it as you would any career opportunity and ask questions.
Probably the first thing you want to be clear about is whether or not this is a work from home job opportunity or if you’d be working on location. Not only is working on location less common of an option, it’s typically paid for at a lower rate, and, according to the professionals I spoke to, a lower quality phone sex service, with all that implies.
Also be sure to ask about the required number of hours or shifts you’ll be required to work; even working from home, phone sex companies require you to commit to scheduled hours just as any other employer does.
Along with asking questions and reading and the phone company’s website, you should investigate the company. Google the company name, number, etc., searching for reviews and commentary from PSOs and clients alike. Evaluate what you read in terms of the company’s stability and reliability in terms of pay. And don’t forget to ask about the details.
Phone sex, like any industry, has it’s own terminology and duties which seems like mumbo jumbo to those of us who are neither phone sex workers or callers. Some companies require PSOs to perform dispatch duties, whereby they take shifts answering the main telephone number, taking caller billing information and matching them with the most suitable PSO available who can meet their erotic needs. Typically, those dispatching shifts are paid at an hourly rate. Other companies expect their phone sex actresses to also spend time “trolling” or looking for new clients online, buying advertising, and performing other marketing and promotional duties. Traditionally, PSOs who perform trolling are paid more per minute than those who do not, and sometimes they are reimbursed or otherwise compensated for their efforts as well. It is highly recommended that you ask about these duties and any other duties you’d be expected to perform in addition to your performances with callers.
When you work for a phone sex company, you’ll receive some training and support; all the technical stuff as far as phone numbers, connections, billing, your character ID and photos, etc. will be taken care of; and there will be some base of established clients too. But when you work as an independent, all of this falls to you.
Even if you opt to use a phone sex service platform such as NiteFlirt, MyPhoneSite, or TalkSugar, and therefore have the technical issues and billing rather handled for you, there’s a lot of work to be done before you ever get your first call.
All of the PSOs I spoke with were independents, roughly half using those aforementioned phone sex service platforms, and yet all listed marketing or promotions as the one aspect of their business that took up most of their time, even after years in the phone sex industry. Even using the phone sex platforms, which have established customer bases and website traffic, there’s great competition among the PSOs to stand out and get the calls.
This is due in no small part to the low barrier of entry to the phone sex business. All one needs to do is provide valid proof they are of legal age to work in the adult industry, and, generally with the same documents that prove age, provide “Right to Work” documents in the U.S. Which means that nearly any adult female can start her own phone sex business — and nearly any adult female can fail at her own phone sex business.
In order to stand out, get calls, and cultivate your own established customer base, PSOs need to market themselves — on and off any phone sex company or service platform website. All the PSOs I spoke with stated that in addition to managing their own profile pages, placing ads, using forums and social networking sites, and the like, they spent most of their time while waiting for calls running their own websites and blogs. Which means they each developed at least a rudimentary knowledge of blogging, SEO, and other web development issues.
The trade-off for this extra work means the independent PSO has greater control over the calls taken, the rates charged, and the hours worked.
As for the amount of money you can expect to be paid as a phone sex operator, it varies. Some PSOs working for companies are excited to get $1 a minute they are on the phone; which could quite literally mean being paid $15 for 15 minutes of work — but this is all they have to show for having hung around, waiting for calls, for a six hour shift. Other independent PSOs claim to make more than $1,500 a week working less than 20 hours — but this after months or years of paying their dues building a client base and regular callers.
In short, there is no short route to quick riches with phone sex. But if you start, working to gain the experience and skills, building a supplemental business, who knows where you could go?
For more information on making a living as a phone sex operator, check out the Phone Sex Secrets blog.
Vintage ad for wall-mounted female human heads reads:
“Stuffed” Girl’s Heads! Only $2.98
Blondes, redheads and brunettes for every man to boast of his conquests…the first realistic likeness of the exciting women who play an important part in every man’s life…and one of the nicest qualities is that they don’t talk back! Accurately modelled to three-quarters life size of real galls and molded of skin-textured pliable plastic, these heads are so life-like they almost breathe. Saucy glittering eyes, full sensuous mouth and liquid satin complexion, combined with radiant hair colors give astonishing realism to these rare and unique Trophies. Blonds, redhead or brunette mounted on a genuine mahogany plaque is complete and ready to hand on the wall for excitement and conversation.
Not a lot leaves me speechless. But here I am.
Found at The Immaculate Consumption.
Seems Juliet Lowell is off to a rockin’ start with this joke book “for adults only” — the cover features a dumb blonde joke (cover image) and a sexist poke (“for adults and adultresses”).
Found at Chateau Thombeau, a lovely look at these pages from Photo Album No. 11, apparently a vintage dating help publication featuring “lonely maidens, widows and divorcees searching for love, romance, happiness and marriage.”
(And don’t those little numbers remind you of criminal booking photos?)
Without seeing the actual publication, it’s hard to say for certain, but it looks as if the “happiness at your fingertips” is based solely on the male reader’s reaction to a photo.
I don’t mean to be cruel or sexist, but if that’s the case, some of these women would only find happiness at their own fingertips; those grimaces are extremely unfortunate. But if they knew how to physically pleasure themselves, they probably wouldn’t have those frowns in the first place. Or probably care to be a mail order girlfriend or bride.
Yes, chemistry is important; but even Playboy has the model’s bio bit. Seems personality was even less important in this vintage mail order girlfriend magazine than in the fantasy fodder pages of men’s mags. Guessing from the photos, this wasn’t that long before Playboy would hit the stands.
I’m surprised head-shots alone were used. Even for the younger gals. How was a guy supposed to check out her breeding hips?
I suppose we should be thankful that this edition is “exclusively for unattached gentlemen.” …But then real gentlemen aren’t the ones to worry about.
And “this edition” is exclusive? That sort of begs the question about other issues…
With the current state of affairs — i.e. republicans trying to defund Planned Parenthood, it seems these Knee High Converse shoes might become affordable birth control. (Yes, even at $60+ they are a one-time purchase.) Since, even with the zipper, it takes a good 15-20 minutes to get them on or off (my 14 year old timed herself and tells me so), greatly delaying the removal of the unfortunately popular skinny jeans, jeggings, etc. (which are so tight they must be completely removed), these shoes might just be as good as a chastity belt.
Image via.
PS These shoes come in more than just black; in case you’d like your birth control to match more of your wardrobe.
Ah, yes, another reminder that women belong to men; we are so much their property, that you can woo them with that fact on a Valentine. (Vintage Valentine via kimmly.
How about this vintage novelty telephone sweater from the 50’s? Via terrasita.
Completely inappropriate panties with “Think Young! It’s Our Only Hope!” printed on them — with a little girl in her nightdress running screaming into the night. Oh, ish. Via pink girl vintage.
I’m invoking the name and memory of Joan Crawford to make a plea for those of you in the US to take action against those who would force women to face the wire hangers of the past.
You must realize that the wealthy will always send their sisters, daughters, wives and girlfriends to other places for safe, legal abortions — even while they seek to deny the rest of us the rights to such “padded hangers.” So even if an abortion is against your morality, if it’s not a choice you could make, recognize the rights each of us has to make our own choices — safe choices which allow for the right to have future children, rather than render ourselves infertile (or worse) by seeking alternatives.
The women are already here, already have rights. Let each woman choose. If you believe it is against God’s will, then let him hand down the decree; you don’t get to play God in the name of preventing others from doing so.
Take action today.
Help Stop the “Stupak on Steroid” Agenda and Sign The Petition to stop the GOP war on women’s health.
I found this photo of a National Housewives League meeting Detroit, Michigan, in 1945 while researching the Organized Housewives, a completely unrelated group.
The National Housewives’ League of America was founded in the early part of the twentieth century to advance the economic status of African Americans. Its mission was to encourage African American housewives to patronize African American-owned businesses through “directed spending.”
The Rev. William H. Peck and his wife Fannie B. Peck, after hearing Alben L. Holsey of the National Negro Business League and Tuskegee Institute speak about the successes of the Colored Merchants Association and the New York Housewives’ Association, were inspired to create similar organizations in Detroit. Rev. Peck organized the Booker T. Washington Trade Association in April 1930. Mrs. Peck, believing that the support of those women who controlled most household budgets — housewives — was essential to any business success, founded the Housewives’ League of Detroit on June 10, 1930, with 50 members. In the next couple of years, Mrs. Peck went on to organize leagues in Cleveland, Cincinnati, and Toledo, Ohio; Indianapolis, Ind.; Pittsburgh, Pa.; Kansas City, Mo.; and Jacksonville, Fla. By 1932, Alben Holsey, impressed with the response of the women in the leagues, invited Mrs. Peck and the other league representatives to meet in New York City to form a national committee, which Mrs. Peck chaired. The following year, the national committee met in Durham, N.C., in concert with the National Negro Business League, and formally organized the National Housewives’ League of America, Inc. Mrs. Peck was elected the first president of the organization.
I find this notion of housewives, and the purchase power of women in general, quite incredible… Normally we only hear of the economic power of those who control most household budgets in terms of boycotts, not as positive actions and long term change-making acts too.
Some related facts on the economic powers of women, which I heartily suggest you use to best impact social and economic change along with your household budget:
From 2005 Wow! Quick Facts Book, published by United States Census Bureau:
* Women control 80 percent of household spending
* They make up 47 percent of investors
* Women buy 81 percent of all products and services
* They buy 75 percent of all over-the-counter medications
* They make 81 percent of all retail purchases
* Women buy 82 percent of all groceries
* Women sign 80 percent of all checks written in the United States
* They make up 40 percent of all business travelers
* They make 51 percent of all travel and consumer electronics purchases
* Women influence 85 percent of all automobile purchases
* They head up 40 percent of all U.S. households with incomes over $600,000
* They own 66 percent of all home-based businesses
* Women have been the majority of voters in the United States since 1964
For more information on the history of the Housewives League, see Housewives League of Detroit (HLD) and the records at Bentley Historical Library at the University of Michigan (where the images are from).
From a Modern Woman magazine from the 40’s, some interesting news…
For the benefit of eighteenth century ladies who didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain, a Parasol Lend-company flourished in Paris, France, about the year 1776. Negro attendants carried the parasols and collected payment upon delivering a charge at her destination. In those times, a parasol cost too much for an average woman to own.
Via WFMU.
Knit!
Ranch Romances & Adventures, May, 1971.
Contrary to what Jack Martin/Gary Dobbs says, I do not see Ranch Romance (& Adventures) magazines as primarily for women.
Jack/Gary says they must be “aimed at young women since all of the stories have a romantic element to them.” But come on now, dude, I know this may be difficult for a man who loves Westerns to admit but the whole genre – from books to films — is nothing but male romance novels and dick flicks. Sure, there’s some action in there; but the guns and body counts are there to win the damsel, the dame — the 500 miles he would walk just to fall down at her door
Stop living in denial.
You men are just as much suckers for romance as we women are. You want to read about a good chaste kiss, a ravishing bodice ripping — and this publication proves it.
Or does it… Perhaps I am biased more than a bit by my feminine experiences and feminist equality-seeking nature. For over at Laurie’s Wild West, Laurie Powers shares the story behind the pulp magazine, using the publication founder’s own words. Harold Hersey claimed full credit for launching Ranch Romances in September 1924 (The “Adventures” joined the “Ranch Romances” in 1969) in his biography, Pulpwood Editor
My home run was Ranch Romances. I conceived of the idea of combining the Western and the love themes in a single magazine under the title of Western Love Stories. Our distributors considered it too close an imitation of the Street & Smith titles. We were told to think up another. The result was Ranch Romances and it was an almost instantaneous hit with women readers. Instead of the cowboy hero, we offered the cowgirl heroine. Bina Flynn, the editor we chose to handle the fresh idea, built the magazine into a huge success.
While I think combining Westerns and Romances is redundant, either I’m wrong — or Hersey’s another one of these men afraid to admit the romantic truth about men. Maybe, just maybe, the truth of Ranch Romances‘ success lies in the complicated truth of this simple line: “Instead of the cowboy hero, we offered the cowgirl heroine.”
Women likely responded to dreaming the possible dream of a strong female heroine who was still desired by men. Men likely felt reciprocally reassured that even today’s ballsy woman still could be wooed and won by a macho male. (However, as always, the stories end before the truly difficult part of meshing roles and living happily ever after begins; like dirty dishes in the sink, no one wants to get to that part.)
Laurie Powers touches on some of this modernized gender stuff in her post too, so read that as Exhibit A. And as further proof of the male adoption of this publication I’ll let you know that the previous owner of my May 1971 issue was male. And check out the sexist ad on the back cover.
Anyway, this Ranch Romances & Adventures I have makes me sad. (It probably made others sad too as it was the publication’s last year.)
Ranch Romances may have been more of a pulp publication, prior to the mid-1960s at least, with fantastic graphics and fantasy fiction, but by this point the magazine was more personals ads digest than pulpy delight.
Of course, I may be biased. Again. I prefer the vintage styles more than the retro ones, and my “like” barometer is built upon that grading system. But from what I’ve seen and read, Rance Romances & Adventures is a desperate combination of personal pleas and ads designed to make money off those in despair.
(I’ll be sharing more of scans from this particular issue here and over at Kitschy Kitschy Coo as Valentine’s Day approaches.)
No actual date listed for this anti-suffrage postcard.
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Picture the scene… It’s 1974 and those women’s libbers are everywhere. Before you know it, those damn women will have screwed up everything. Hell, we won’t even be able to tell the boys from the girls. Oh my gawd, what about the children?! How do you combat it? Big Fluttery Lashes.
The amazingly-trademarked Big Fluttery Lashes were copyrighted in 1974, by Imagineering Inc., Phoenix, Arizona (but made in Hong Kong). The lashes sold for 39 cents and they were safe & non-toxic (unless you’re under the age of three).
And good news, boys; if you were caught with one on your upper lip (or simply caught with the package), you could simply say it was a mustache — the package even says so!
Image via Tiki Ranch.