|One of the boys|
Even though the aim of a girl's life was marriage, we weren't allowed to be feminine.
For birthdays girls were given briefcases, alarm clocks, packs of cards and pen sets. I wanted a miniature plastic umbrella, a tutu and glittery plastic high heeled mules, like my friend Adele.
50s kids’ literature was full of children acting like adults – apart from the sex. The girl heroines were the kind the nuns liked: outdoorsy, tidy, clean, “mature”. They had adventures on their own and were responsible and helpful and prematurely middle-aged.
Books and magazines held up wholesome, outgoing youths who don’t “follow the crowd” but instead adore Dickens, groove to Beethoven, and collect seashells. They don't have special friends, they are “chums” with lots of “pals”. They play a sport, walk tall and are always cheerful, cheerful, cheerful. Be like this and all the other teenagers will hate you.
Translation: Don’t grow up too soon. Don’t be girly and interested in pop stars and boys, but at the same time don’t be a tomboy. Be clean and neat and well-groomed: clean hands, neatly filed nails, polished shoes, pressed clothes, glossy, well-brushed hair and a face that knows only soap and water.
Vanity was frowned on (perms, hair dye).
We were told:
Makeup is bad for your skin.
Plucked eyebrows grow back thicker.
Washing your hair makes it dirtier.
In the 30s, girls were meant to look lumpy in a gymslip, remain sexually ignorant for as long as possible, then go to Switzerland for a makeover, do the London season (lots of parties) and get married. So why all the propaganda about not looking pretty?
Girls’ literature never referred to life after boarding school (or outside it). The authors never mentioned the fact that girls grow up and get married. One minute you were being valued for your skills on the lacrosse field and your ability to keep the juniors in order, the next moment you were being judged on your looks, your clothes and your ability to flirt, and your sporting talents, frank friendliness and high marks in French were utterly irrelevant. Appearance (that “doesn’t matter”) was all that mattered, and you never thought about lacrosse again.
This advice for young ladies was barely updated since the 19th century – surely it was 1850s girls who collected seashells instead of admirers? And brushed their (long) hair a lot?
Emotions had to be “controlled” with “self-control”. Emotion was “sentimentality”. Expressing emotions – or even having them – was being "nervy, hysterical and worked up". If you went on like that you’d have a “nervous breakdown”. You must “calm down” and shut up as quickly as possible. And stop thinking about it.
The only way you could talk about your feelings was to “crack” – yell home truths and burst into tears. But next day everyone would pretend that nothing had happened.
You just had to put up with things. Unhappy? “Snap out of it” and “pull yourself together”.
Adults treated their feelings (with alcohol) instead of making structural changes (divorce). They were supposed to carry on, pretend it wasn’t happening, think about something else, never talk about it.
If tiny babies seemed to smile we were told it was “just wind”. Likewise thinking animals had human feelings was “sentimental” or “anthropomorphism”.
Sympathy (“mollycoddling”) was bad for people. You told them to buck their ideas up, or that they were better off as they were. God forbid they should try to change themselves, their appearance, their circumstances – it might inconvenience others, who might have to offer some actual help.
If you wrote to an agony aunt saying you were lonely, they replied that you were “stuck in a rut of self-pity”.
Unhappiness was “feeling sorry for yourself”, which was forbidden. And if you were unhappy, you didn’t look around for a cause.
You might be lucky enough to be officially “sensitive”, but this required a caring family and a lot of friends. Otherwise you were just “oversensitive”, or “insensitive”, and this was something you just were.
More here, and links to the rest.