A Brief History of Wall Storage

I thought summer would bring me more chances to blog, but we've been gone off and on pretty much since it started. Everything we've been up to has been fun, but it feels like as soon as we unpack from one trip, we are back to packing for another! In fact, in just about an hour, we are leaving again for a weekend excursion to the Poconos with my immediate family. It should be a great trip and we are really looking forward to it. However, we are leaving again once we return from there (I know, we're crazy but this is the only time we have to travel since my husband is a teacher and can't take time off during the school year). That being said, I'd love to get a quick post up about something I love...decorating.

I wish I was better at decorating - my love for it mostly stems from countless hours looking wistfully at Pottery Barn catalogs and dreaming of what could be...if and when we win the lottery.

My copy of Good Housekeeping's Guide to Successful Homemaking has a whole section devoted to decorating, discussing all different types of furniture for each room of the home, providing pictures galore. Today, I will focus on bookcases, cabinets, and break fronts; I will include pictures as close as possible to the ones in my GH Guide as well as ones I've been eyeing...in my dreams, of course!

The picture at the top of the post is a Sheraton bookcase in cross-grain veneer. English, c. 1800.

Above (right) is a provincial wall cabinet in Louis XV style. Open shelves on top, graceful panels on lower portion. French, c. 1770.

It's interesting to note that each of these pieces as well as those pictured in the Good Housekeeping Guide are more or less what you would find in 1950's homes. Were antiques that popular for that long? Indeed, they are still popular today, but I guess it all depends on where you look. It seems that decor has gotten much simpler - clean lines and practicality abound more in today's furniture. For example, the picture above (left) is obviously reminiscent of the antique style but some would consider the Pottery Barn piece more functional for today's lifestyles. It's all a matter of taste, I suppose.

I guess the important thing is no matter what style you choose, be sure to choose wisely - big pieces like these are expensive. However, with a little extra TLC, these pieces can last a lifetime. I suppose that's a post for another day, though! Happy decorating (or in my case, dreaming)!

Our Own Ultimate

As I was skimming around Amy Vanderbilt's Guide to Gracious Living today, I was struck by her decision to devote an entire section to "familiar words and phrases from other languages." It caught me off guard, because although the title of her (in my opinion fabulous) book lends itself to be a guide to everyday living, I wasn't sure how having a base knowledge in other languages (especially Latin, which we all know is a dead language) is something anyone (let alone a 50's housewife) would utilize every day. Or even once a week, for that matter.

But even as I type this, I'm having an ah-ha! moment, because therein lies the appeal of the 50's housewife, right? For lore tells us of a woman rich in grace and beauty, who keeps a spotless house, has 2.5 children with impeccable manners, a husband who adores her, and he with never a wrinkle to be found on his clothing, in addition to her being cultured. She may not use Latin or French every day, or even on most days...but the one day she needs to partake in the witty repartee of her husband's business associates and their spouses, she can do so with ease. Now that is something to aspire to.

The kind of society we should seek is that which stimulates us to express ourselves verbally, that spurs our intellectual processes, that makes us want to achieve our own ultimate (p. 467).

Our own ULTIMATE! What a fantastic concept. To just be the best we can be, stealing the Army's once famous motto. When I get tired and just down and out about my lack of 50's housewife skills, I can remember the goal is truly - to achieve my own ultimate. Even if I completely fall short of perfect (which, let's be honest - not even June or Margaret can call themselves that), I will still be a blessing to my family by striving for my personal best. And, as a writer and lover of literature, it brings me great pleasure to share some of Amy's list of familiar words and phrases from the language that's dead to the world, but not to us housewives...Latin!

ex cathedra - usually used in connection with a pronouncement from the Pope. Literally, "from his chair" or "officially."

ex libris - (among) the books (of), a bookplate with the owner's name, coat of arms, etc., to be pasted on the inside cover of a book

habeas corpus - a writ or order permitting a prisoner to be produced at a stated time to determine the court's right to detain him. This is a phrase beloved by crime reporters and mystery writers.

You see? Before today, I thought habeas corpus was just a line from Legally Blonde. We're learning so much already, aren't we?!

ipso facto - by the act itself

mare nostrum - our sea. A phrase used politically by the Italians to indicate the Mediterranean. And a phrase particularly liked by editorial writers.

A word of caution here, fellow housewives, if I may. I'm guessing it wouldn't go over well in the world for Americans to start referring to the Atlantic or the Pacific as mare nostrum. Just a thought!

multum in parvo - much in little

And that's where we'll end the language lesson for today. I hope you were all taking notes, housewives. The lesson within the lesson that Amy should wish to impart is that the learned housewife is the happiest housewife. Until next time, Valete! And if you don't know what that means, I'm afraid you'll have to look it up to get the joke!

It's BadMINTON!

I've blogged quite a bit about the work involved in keeping a June-like life, but have yet to spend much time on leisure activities of the 1950's. While watching yet another episode of Father Knows Best, my interest was piqued when the episode centered around whether or not Jim was too old to play badminton. Eventually, he and Margaret skip off (in a very youthful fashion, I might add) to play badminton with another couple for the evening.

I guess it's not much different than couples playing tennis together today, but it was just funny to me because I haven't played badminton since tenth grade gym class. And also...I thought it was "badmitten"...like fingerless gloves. Seriously, I figured out I was wrong for the first time today when I tried to type "badmitten" into Google search and all the results came up for "badminton." I guess they're wrong when they say computers will never be as smart as humans.

Anyway, badminton to me, seems just a little "cuter" version of tennis. Obviously, there are the logistical differences of a shuttlecock being used instead of a ball, and the court being a bit different, but it seems similar enough. I, not being particularly adept at tennis, am actually very interested in trying out badminton (for the second time ever) sometime soon.

Before I get ahead of myself, I think it's best to consult the expert on all things, Amy Vanderbilt on the topic at hand.

A sociologist or psychiatrist could glean considerable information about any [badminton] player's personality defects by watching his behavior on the court. In this game, the man stands revealed, even in a game of mixed doubles. He has plenty of room in which to throw a tantrum or his racket, lots of space to yell and hurl taunts at his opponent, many opportunities to cheat when there is no referee and his word as a sportsman and gentleman decides whether the shuttlecock is in or out (p. 163).

Now that gives us lots to look forward to, doesn't it? It sounds very similar to what I imagine will be my son and his peers interacting in about another year or so. Nevertheless, Margaret Anderson did look so snappy in her cute little badminton outfit - maybe I'll still give it a go!

No Rest for the Weary Wife

The time has come...to say goodbye...to a favorite ritual of mine.

The daily nap.

My son has recently switched from two naps to one and it has not been a very easy transition! He's doing fine now, but there were a few days last week where my husband couldn't get home from work soon enough because I was exhausted and my poor little non-napper was, too. Finally, I figured out it was a combination of being ready to switch to one nap a day, and the dreaded teething once again.

However, when I say farewell to the siesta, it's not his I'm talking about. Hopefully he'll keep that up until he's 3 or 4! It's, well...my own nap I'm having trouble parting with!

Go ahead, judge away - but it's tiring chasing a 13 month old, and keeping non-edible items out of his mouth, and getting your finger bitten several times a day, and on and on! I get up at 6 and on good nights get to bed around 10:30 - it's been so lovely to have a nap almost any day I want one.

But this 50's housewife life is a work in progress - and as I progress...or start to see less progress than I would like - I see it's probably only going to improve if I'm willing to part with my beloved nap. I couldn't even find time to make my mincemeat yet and that post was well over a week ago! If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it all the way.

Wish me luck - and better wish my husband luck, too! I can imagine I'll be far less pleasant to be around sans-nap. If things get too out of control, Amy Vanderbilt has this advice:

A tired mother needing a bath and a nap might employ a baby-sitter to watch the baby in the playpen, sandbox, or nursery (p. 321).

Well, at least it's comforting to know that 50's housewives weren't robots after all...they got tired, too. That makes me feel at least a little better about life!

The Mystery of Mincemeat

Today, I have decided to embark on another 50's food adventure, this time from Successful Entertaining at Home. I will be making...mincemeat.

I have heard the expression "I'll make mincemeat out of you," and I have even heard of mincemeat pie, but I have no idea what mincemeat is actually comprised of (I fail to believe it is actually comprised of a person you have a beef with - pun intended).

Further research (aka typing "mincemeat" into the search box on Allrecipes.com) led me to the conclusion that there is actually meat in mincemeat. Well, huh. This leaves me with only one logical question: Who would want to eat a pie made of meat? I'm told it used to be quite common. Well, as has become my custom, I will say only this: this should be interesting.

Page 172 of my beloved 50's entertaining book suggests cooking mincemeat in a brandy sauce and serving it over vanilla ice cream.

Mincemeat Brandy Sauce

mincemeat

brandy

Put the desired amount of mincemeat for your sauce in a chafing dish, pouring enough brandy over it for flaming just before you serve it on vanilla ice cream. The brandy is lighted and when the flame dies down the sauce is spooned over the vanilla ice cream which has already been dished into the silver goblets.

This is a very attractive service one's guests will enjoy watching, and it is just as pretty when the ice cream is scooped up from a large crystal or silver bowl, to be served by the hostess on flat crystal plates and topped by the sauce from the chafing dish.

This all sounds great, but I still don't know how to make mincemeat. I suppose I will use the recipe from Allrecipes.com which can be found at:

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Blue-Ribbon-Mincemeat-Pie-Filling/Detail.aspx

The problem is, this mincemeat recipe makes THIRTY TWO whopping servings of the stuff, and I know it's going to be a hard sell to get my husband to try one bite. My plan is to pare down the recipe to 4 servings and serve it over vanilla ice cream (not sure if I will attempt the flambe or not!). If he starts to complain, I'll just pour a little extra brandy on top...or in a glass on the side!

I'll let you know how the mincemeat goes tonight once we've tried it for dessert. Consider this part one of the mincemeat blog. And just think: part 2 might include a rant from my husband about why 50's foods are not so commonplace anymore! Get excited!

The Lost Art of Asking

There are many things about the 1950's that I love, as you may have gathered from my previous posts. Although I haven't attained "June status" yet as a housewife, I am doing my best every day, researching and putting to use what I have learned as best I possibly can...while living in 2011. The more I learn about the fabulous 50's, the more I love about them. Sure, things weren't perfect then, and I don't expect they will ever be this side of heaven, but it seems that there was a greater sense of propriety and a shared societal understanding of what is and what is not appropriate behavior back then.

So I guess that's why I am more than just a little bit baffled that roughly 60 years later, some things have gone completely out the window.

For example, this past weekend I was fortunate enough to be able to take a "girls weekend" away to visit my best friend in Wilmington, North Carolina. We had a ball - went to the beach every day, out for nice meals, antiquing, and had plenty of great conversations. Saturday night after dinner, she wanted to take me to a rooftop bar where she and her friends often like to go. The place was great - it had a beautiful view of the city, it wasn't too crowded, and the dj was playing music I actually like. My best friend and a couple of other girls she knows were just doing our thing, having fun on the dance floor when out of nowhere my friend looks at me like a deer in headlights because she sees what's coming and I clearly don't. Some random dude has come up behind me and tries to start dancing with me (or some version of that) without even a) asking me or b) facing me.

I whip around just as this bonehead's arm is about to secure itself around my waist and promptly say: "Hi, although I really appreciate you taking the time to ask me if I want to dance, I'm hanging out with my friends. And by the way, I'm married." To which my friend added, "AND she has a baby!!" HA. That ought to do it! And with that, the rejected gentleman (and that's using the term loosely, believe me) disappeared into the crowd.

Just as we were getting back to getting our groove on, three more guys came over to us and said: "We just saw you tell those other guys you didn't want to dance with them, but..." And in my head I'm like "But what? You think you're different or special or better looking than they were?" I politely (as possible) pointed to the single ladies and went to the bar to get a drink. Momentarily, I was left to my own thoughts waiting for the bartender's attention and I couldn't help but wonder...how did we get here?!

According to Amy Vanderbilt, in the 50's, there were dance cards - not only did gentlemen ask the ladies if they would care for a dance, they basically scheduled the dances in advance! Oh, how sweet those days must have been! In the 50's (or at least at card-dance), no female was essentially danced upon unwillingly by a man with absolutely zero manners. And if a woman was asked for a dance by a man she didn't care to dance with, she had a choice in the matter - she had the option of politely refusing his polite request.

No lady need dance with anyone if for some reason she doesn't care to. But she must always be polite in her refusal (p. 218, Guide to Gracious Living).

You see the distinction? What Ms. Vanderbilt is suggesting is that there is never a place for rude behavior or speech. A woman is not a senseless object to be used however a man sees fit - most of all when the man doesn't even know the woman, or care to know her, as can only be assumed by the essential "hostage taking" that happens on dance floors in clubs today. I realize I may be coming across as prude, but I don't think women have to share my love of the 50's to share the opinion that men's dance club behavior has become an absolute abhorrence.

There were, of course, dames of the 50's who had to avoid their own awkward dance floor moments:

Girls, of course, get stuck too during interminable dances when no one asks to cut in. When no relief seems in sight either partner can suggest leaving the floor, usually under the pretext that there are too many couples dancing, that a drink, or a talk, or a walk in the air might be more fun (p. 218).

Ah, if only it were that simple again! To have the worst problem a girl could face on the dance floor be "getting stuck in an interminable dance." I do wonder how shocked women who had full dance cards in the 50's would be to see the hideous mess that has become of dancing in our society today. Because let's be honest...seeing a woman literally man-handled is shocking no matter what generation you grew up in. At least, it should be. Women nowadays put up with too much and ask for too little in return, if you ask me. I hope my son will grow up to be a gentleman and if I ever have a daughter...well, she's not leaving the house until she's 40!!!

With a Cardigan, Of Course!

I was watching Father Knows Best again today - I say it's for blog research, but it's really just so intriguing to me, watching a sitcom from so many years ago. In my defense, I do watch Maragaret Anderson like a hawk, noting all the things she does and says; I try to decipher what morsel of good 50's housewifery I can glean from her today.


The episode I watched today was the 5th in the first season, called "Live My Own Life." In this episode, Bud wants to move away from home to prove to his family he is old enough to be his own boss. It was cute and predictable, as you would expect it to be. The whole time I was watching it, I was thinking about what I could blog about. I watched and studied as Margaret put towels away, cleaned the dishes and arranged flowers in a centerpiece on the dining room table. She looked so elegant and domestic as she completed all these taks, which is something I need to work on (read: eek, it's 2 pm and I haven't hit the shower yet today!!).


The thing that interested me the most, though was when dear Mrs. Anderson sat on the couch, reading a magazine, pretending she didn't care that her darling son was about to leave the house "for good." I didn't quite catch the magazine she was reading, but it made me curious enough to do some further research: What did ladies of the 50's read in their magazines? How is it different, if at all, from what we read today?

I found a great source for upcoming blog posts online where 1950's issues of Good Housekeeping and other 50's housewife publications like The Journal of Home Economics are available to read. Today will be the first of many posts from these archives - and guess what? They have also encouraged me to include some pictures in my postings to liven things up a bit! Gee, now isn't that swell?!

Today's topic comes from the May 1950 issue of Good Housekeeping and is an update on an article of clothing that is the epitome of timelessness: the cardigan.

The article is short, but the writer insists:

On a summer street, cover is what you need. Cotton offers two solutions: dresses with cardigans of their own, dresses that welcome yours (p.69).

So, ladies, as we are just stepping into summer with Memorial Day just behind us, what say we all pair our sundresses with a cotton cardigan to achieve two important purposes: 1: much needed cover on a summer street and 2: to really feel the part of the 50's housewife. Perhaps if I look the part, I'll then feel the part, and then I'll just...become the part. Methinks this would be a good time to ask my dear husband for a lovely strand of pearls, no?!

Ok, so that might not happen for a while...or ever...but I do have plenty of cute sundresses and I, for one, intend to rock those frocks this summer the way June might have - with a cardigan, of course!