26 December “Happy Christmas”

I have not posted for a few days. It has been a flurry of activity around here and literally did not have my usual afternoon spot of computer time. In some ways, being away from the computer for a few days in a row can be very addictive. I shall not, however, make it a habit in the coming year and will endeavor to post daily.
How funny that here, at the end of 1956, I should be embracing more the vintage things rather than longing for the modern. I love my computer, don’t get me wrong. It allows me to post and write and also more and more do art and create. Yet, as a tool it is fine, but as an eater of time it can be immense. So, when I found myself a few days without it, I did not miss it. But, I would miss all of you and what the blog has come to mean to me.
I wanted to share some photos of gifts today, but our camera has gone missing. I shall then do that tomorrow. But, these past busy days were fun and well, busy. On Thursday, I went to my nieces and helped her prepare for our family Christmas eve party. It is here turn to host, so I was there to help. We have a theme each year and it has spanned from 1950’s to Dickens Victorian. One year we did a black and white ball and all had to dress in black and white (easy for the boys in tux of course). This year the theme was a pajama party! It was fun. We served up breakfast foods, had stockings on the mantle and Christmas parlor games. What fun!
For food there was crab and dill quiche, vegetable quiche, Quiche Lorraine, French toast bake, home fries, and lashings and lashings of bacon and sausage! And, of course, mimosa’s poured heavily and were much imbibed.
And yesterday, Christmas day, we had our family Christmas of hubby and Gussie and I. Then around 4 off to my MIL for dinner and more presents and a fire and relaxing.
So, here I am the day after the holiday and unable to locate my camera. I will today and then post my gifts, and other photos. I am finding it more and more difficult to remind myself to document my life with pictures. When I started, back in 1955, it was more about the project. My life was focused on the minutiae of the day, what to wear, how to cook, what to serve, what I would have watched. This year has lead more to my growth  in these areas and also an increased practice of, oddly enough, computer skills in my little endeavors to make a site and forum.
Now, however, I find those things most likely worth documenting so normal and part of my life I don’t think of them as unique. Then I find myself thinking, “Oh, the guys and gals on the site would have liked to have seen that.”
To me a girdle hanging to drip dry, the fastening of stockings, laying the breakfast table with vintage dishes and a big spread of food, hat, gloves, and heels. All of these things have become such a normal part of my life, I just have sort of moved on as far as thinking them unique. And, in so doing, in many ways this blog has become more about my day than the uniqueness of the 1950’s. Yet, in my daily normalcy, it is very 1950’s so it is still, in many ways a vintage blog. One can get rather mixed up in time when one becomes a time traveler.
I realized yesterday morning how it was all so normal, yet how unique we were truly living. Hubby, in his vintage Pajamas and dressing gown reading his copy of a 1956 book Gussie had found for him. I, reading my 1956 December McCall's from my stocking, also from Gussie and she in her pajama’s trying on the nice vintage kid gloves  and hat I bought for her. I began discussing the articles I was reading in my magazine, admiring my new coffee urn that matches my Temporama dishes and thought, ‘If someone were to suddenly drop down in our home at this moment they might (if they didn’t look out the window at any modern cars) think they were truly in 1956. Our house is old, much older than 1956, vintage clothes, magazines, dishes. Even our topic of conversation was casually about the article I was reading about the the little prince and princess of England Charles and Anne. Yet, we still are very modern in many ways. It seems, without my conscience effort any longer, we have seamlessly meshed the past and present.
It leaves me realizing how the coming year will still find me reporting from the past (most likely 1957) yet still just living my ‘normal’ life and sharing that with you. And normal for me is rather a mix of the old and new. But, in many ways, I have always been rather comfortable with the past. There was a time when I mostly read books:history, novels, philosphy, etc from the 19th century and earlier. If it was published after 1930 I had little interest in it. I felt a kinship for the old, a look back and what was. Of course college in the 1990’s was hardly an inspiring decade. A sea of torn jeans and flannel shirts, grunge was des rigueur. Even the art world was rather bland, the expressionism and pop art having faded to a bland or shocking move towards performance and process. So, in many ways, my life was probably always on a course towards the past, yet for me in some ways I have come more into the future. The 1950’s were really a new modern world. Of course, prior to my trip to 1955, I had sort of taken on the malaise of the modern urban dweller. Jeans and Uggs. Shopping and materialism. Yet, in my own art, I always found myself portraying or considering the 19th century. As if my true life was simply waiting to be born after being cocooned in the modern for a decade or so.
Now, with  the approaching year I do find myself wanting to look more specifically to art. To the expression in pictures and words. In many ways I consider the past two years almost as a performance piece as well as my life. Now, with 1950’s being such a normal aspect to me, I feel like I can actually express something I should care about in an ‘artful’ way.
Now, of course you all know I consider the art of the Home to be, in fact, an Art form. Running and planning a home, the preparation of meals and the making of clothes, even cleaning all are true art forms. Ones in which I still am a student, yet consider it is a lifetime classroom. But, I have of late come to want to express myself artfully in a more specific representational way. In pictures and words. A children’s book, paintings, drawings these sorts of things. And I think they shall play a major role in my coming year.
My site, a year long attempt that, right now, I am rather disappointed in, needs to be simplified and streamlined so that I might focus more on my creating and then simply sharing with you. More time to discuss the art world and also the art forms of the home as well. I think a good homemaker can talk Rembrandt and Redecorating and Cleaning, don’t you?
So, here comes the new year and I hope all are getting ready to face it with new challenges and new excitement in improvement and joy in the Home and family. Happy Homemaking.
I will close with this song, “He’ll be coming down the chimney” which was the official Christmas seal song of this year, 1956, sung by Rosemary Clooney. I could not find her version of it, so here is Guy Lombardo’s version.

And here is a  wonderful Home Movie from 1956 Christmas. From my Vintage Heart to all of you, Happy Christmas and A Wonderful Holiday!

16 December 1956 "1956 is slipping away"

This month seems to be slipping away from me, as does 1956. How is it that this is the end of the second year of what was a project and is now a life?

I have been so busy this past week. We had our cocktail party last night and the day before I was busy making and preparing for the day. It was a hit and we all had such fun. Now, here we are one week away from Christmas.

I have been rather bad at my daily posts and again, the site has been waiting for me. I have new plans for it but have not uploaded anything new as I am waiting, almost on myself, for concrete decisions for 1957.

I shall share photos of the party and other things later, but I rather think I need the rest of today to clean up and unwind. I had a guest who stayed over from the party and we had a lovely time gabbing away until a few minutes ago. I shall clean up, prepare for this evenings meal and take some time to wrap some gifts and finish up stitches on a homemade gift.

I hope all are enjoying the days leading up to this big holiday and are having fun making gifts or enjoying a reasonable  shopping. I would like to think more people are wisely spending less this holiday season, but I heard shopping is up from last year. I suppose we have short term memory when it comes to recalling the 'big crash' of a few years ago.

Until later then, Happy Homemaking and Happy Christmas Prep time.

5 September 1956 “Comments Continued…”

My latest comment to your comments on yesterday’s post was too long to be processed as a comment, so I am just making it into today’s post. Therefore, it is my continuing comment on those comments made on THIS post.
Missfifi-isn't it funny how often the 50's are shown as the time of 'keeping up with the Joneses' and certainly that was somewhat true then, but not like today. Today it is all about who is the coolest, hippest with the latest gadgets or most ironic tshirt saying or lowest rise most expensive track suit.
Dianne-That is very kind of you for thinking of me for the top ten list. I thank you again.
Sue G.-Vive la Revolution!
Jenny-Your husband sounds very right on. Funny that our phones should be a mobile office of organizing tools and blackberry's and stylus pens to keep our lives in order and yet it only adds to the chaos and includes one or more things to have to add to an already growing list of demands. How about a filing cabinet. A desk phone. A briefcase. A calendar. and a Weekly 'to do list' simple AND effective!
It is also so true about the branding of adults. Once this was a teenage or childish pursuit, but in a way it only cements what I have come to fear, all the old adults are dying off and we are left with the grown babies. Rather one is hip or cool or has the latest gadget is not a surprise for someone 13, but when one is a mother in her 50's it should not matter. Of course, this type of attitude only continues to teach the subsequent generations how important that is.
I was thinking how whenever someone drives by with their music blaring SO loud that you can literally FEEL the bass line, they are obviously doing that for OTHERS more than themselves. It says, 'Look at me, this is who I am by the definition of this song'. If they enjoyed that music, wouldn't' they listen to it at a comfortable level and who cares if others heard YOU listening to it. We live so much THROUGH the media of TV/computer/phones/text that we think we ALL OUR ON TV all the time and we have to live each day as if it is our reality show. "HEY LOOK AT ME" we all cry. And in some ways I almost feel as if we as a culture have so little to really say or think with and to ourselves that we are just grasping for anything for identity. It is truly sad that is out there to grasp is so empty shallow and pointless.
In some ways I worried that my own pursuit of 1955 was just that very same atitude: Look at me. And quite possbily in my early still modern mindset on 1 Janury 1955 that may have been my subconscious drive. However, what I have come to learn and feel of the depth and breadth of the homemakers of the past and truly that very War Generation has become more about the quality of my life. To me, when I dress vintage, it is about my own personal pride. There are days that I might not even be out in the public in any way, yet I am still dressed and living my life through vintage means. This is because it feels solid and real and tangible and honest to me. There is no one there to see me do it, yet I do it because it feels right and is for me and my family. That feeling of quality and purpose to life is often missing from the modern world. I am not sure why it vanished, but I have a strong feeling it went away when the importance of life switched to how cool you are and how many things you can own. Even now, many aspects of life are simply a drive to buy products that somehow represent the box in which you want to be put. If you like something you wear the advertising for it on your body, fill your shelves with the molded versions of it, yet all the while are not truly living it. Owning something does not give you the power of what it once represented.
That was the hardest lesson for me to learn as I ventured into 1955. That to simply buy up a decade in objects was not truly living or feeling what it was to be there. Now, most things I use and own ARE vintage, but their use is more tantamount to the production of my day than to how ‘cool’ or ‘retro’ I might look. My old mixer has the advantage of being lovely to look at, but that meat grinder attachment gets a good workout and all my foods are made in those bowls for my family to eat. My clothes are lovely, to me, but do not merely represent a new form of the t-shirt that says, ‘Hey I love 1950’, but both stand as a uniform to my day of pride of that time and also practicality. It is cheaper to make my own clothes and keep and maintain their sturdy construction by me than to simply plop down 20 dollars at Old Navy for an entire wardrobe.
I guess this is all really continuing the same thoughts I have been having of the actual tangible quality to a vintage life. What that can really mean. And I am all for filling our homes with vintage items because they DO make one feel a certain way, but then I want us to really take those items, look at what they did and perform tasks with them and see how the simpler aspect of your life, the preparation of food with less tools but well made beautiful ones actually DO MAKE A LIFE and is not a chore. Many of us have no problem setting aside 5 hours of a Sunday to sit online, but ask someone to take an hour to make, rise and bake bread and you might as well ask them to fly to the moon. I think this does a disservice to us. We people are much smarter than we have allowed ourselves to be in the ease of the modern world.
The real truth and the ‘secret to life’ is often just this:
Life is NOT better when it is cheaper and easier. Hard work often DOES=Better life
And when we begin to see that what we consider ‘hard work’ is actually the actions of living, we will realize it is not work at all, but life itself. They say God is in the details and surely Life is in the Doing not the Owning.
And as Jenny pointed out, try not to judge and to teach our children not to judge is the right and often the hardest thing to do. Perhaps because we are so judgmental ourselves we are so scared of BEING judged.
Many people write me and say they wish they could dress vintage or try to live a more vintage life, but they are afraid. It is hard, but we must let go of this fear. And we, as humans, are natural judges, but if we can learn to look kinder to others than perhaps we can, in turn, be kinder on ourselves and not worry of others judgment. Who cares, truly, if you are wearing a full on 1950’s outfit, hat gloves and all, and others stare at you. If you feel good and proud of this, do the opinions of others who ARE judgmental truly matter more than your own?
This is always a hard lesson, but it once was was the lesson of adulthood. There are countless episodes of 1950’s sitcom where the wiser mature parent teaches this lesson to the children: Do not judge others, be kind, and don’t worry about ‘going along with the crowd’. While today I am sure sitcoms have the parents merely older versions of the teens, worrying about how cool they or who has the best stuff.
We have lost that entire generation of mature parents. There is no Father from father knows best or Donna Reed to turn to us and say, “Now, darling, don’t let what those people are saying about how you are dressed bother you. They, themselves, must feel inadequate or hurt to hurt others. We must let each of us live the life we must, but truly people are good and are just misunderstood or misunderstanding”.
I hate to think of the modern mother role model of today in her SUV shouting at the other drivers while on the cell phone. Her kids mindlessly staring at the video screens in the seats in front of them, branded with their favorite character or store, while piled in the back is their daily booty of bags of frozen foods and soda and later that night, the mother borrowing her daughters cool top to go out and ‘party’. I want a grown up! I want someone to say, ‘it matters little what they say, but MORE what you do. You should live right and conscientiously and you will feel fulfilled and look inward and not care who is looking at you”.
PAT-I too, before my project, would say I was a number one consumer. I always looked for happiness at the end of a shopping line or in the bottom of my Home Goods bag. It wasn’t until I began to truly live and live simply, that my life began to feel real. I began to actually FEEL like a grown up. I always wondered when that magic moment of adulthood would come and I realize it never would had I not done this project because that transition from teen to adult almost does not exist any longer. So, in a way, it is up to we Vintage followers to make it apparent to others that the chores and lessons of Homemaking are not drudgery or ‘work’ or even demeaning, but in fact living and feeling alive in the moment of your life. You can play a video game, such as the sims, where you make up a world with a house and family, or you can simply live your own true life. And you know what? The Graphics are GREAT in real life. They are very lifelike and the experience is very 3-D.

4 September 1956 “Nostalgia: Ethereal or Tangible?”

Since starting my project I have really come to wonder at the nostalgia of things. The look of vintage appliances and canisters on a kitchen counter. The feel of either a vintage fabric or a vintage cut dress and the swish of the petticoat. The sounds: The heavy click and bang of the manual typewriter, the jet-engine roar of my vintage Kirby vacuum, the pure crescendo of the old telephone’s ring. Why is it that these elements of the past, these visual and audible, even tactile, messengers from the past touch us so deeply?
One could say the joy of one’s past, but many of us, myself included, were not there for the original use of these items. I never saw the real 1950’s or 60’s for that matter. Other’s might say we simply are donning our rose-colored glasses to view a time in a prettier nostalgic light. But, I am not sure.
The more I find others out in the world through this blog and the site who have a true affinity for all things vintage, I am beginning to wonder if there is some tangible quality to these items. And, if it is simply dreaming up a time that was or maybe even wasn’t but is imagined, that touches us, then there is a validity to it. That tells me, if one wants happiness, contentment, or simply a simpler truer life, then perhaps vintage and nostalgia are better than Prozac and psychiatry.
Take the telephone which we just recently discussed. Many recalled or expressed current joy in their sound, the weight of them and the permanency in their position in the house. There was also a certain freedom FROM the item, as you used it on your phone bench in the front hall or kitchen and when you were not at home or in the laundry room where  you couldn’t hear it, you were not bothered by it. One can always argue (Well what about emergency) but I have noticed that these past two decades, fear seems to be the driving force behind consumerism. What if? Well, what if? Do we really want to structure our life and home around future possible catastrophe? Is that a good quality of life? And, now that you have had cell phones, as an example, how many times has it served you in an emergency. And, had you not had it, how would you have addressed the emergency otherwise?
I think these past items and the aspect of taking on a past time is merely our psyche trying to get free of the oppression and fear driven cycle of life we current reside in. If I happen to even drive by the mall, with the parking lot jammed, I wonder, how much fear is driving these people? Fear of not looking cool or not wearing the latest or not buying the latest thing. The fear of not ‘having my coffee, I HAVE TO have my double soy latte in the morning or I am impossible” and so on.
We might look back at a time such as the 1950’s and think, “No computers, no cell phones, no cable, no malls, less cars, less options for careers, no cheap products available 24/7 at stores whenever we want them, how did they live?” And when we consider that, does there not seem to be, even a slight twinge,  of envy in that? How much fuller would our days be if we were NOT connected 24/7? If we only were able to talk to people if we happened to be home and near the phone when it rang. Or if we wrote or received a letter. Yet the slower easier pace of life made days more valued and enjoyed.
This is how we once taveled on planes. Compare that to today. Many people may say we have more fear and terror, but why is that? It wasn’t just born out of thin air, possibly it could be the way we or other countrys who now take on such a consumer driven life, that we actually have a rather poor diplomatic relations with other countries. How far have we hurt our world and our safety simply by being countries who want it now cheap and at any cost?
Also, the increased cheapness of things is always paraded out to us like it is the GOOD thing happening to us. It is so cheap to have cell phones now, food is so cheap, clothes are so cheap. Yet this driving force of wanting to pay next to nothing for something so we can have more things is a very new concept really. Of course a 1950’s homemaker would hunt for and want bargains, but they did not wake every day thinking, “Well I DESERVE that low price” they would not march into the grocery store and say, “I will give you 10 cents a pound for that instead of the 12 you have listed” and yet, in many ways, this is how we currently live.
There is little wonder then that today no small business can survive as it once did. And unfortunately with the disappearing small business, so to goes the middle class. And the happy content middle class is that last vestige of a truly happy and content vintage life. Those people who are willing to work hard but for that hard work have affordable houses to buy and realistic quality to the products they buy. When they bought a mixer it cost them hundreds in today's dollars, but they knew it would last. I know it would last, because the mixer in my kitchen now was from the 1950’s and it is still going strong. How long do you think that ‘bargain priced’ 25 dollar mixer at Wal-Mart will last?
And the small business I do see today are almost all catered to ‘things’. Gift or cutesy or items we honestly don’t need. The grocery, the butcher, the milkman, the farmer, the tailor, the doctor even, all of these items used to be supplied by individuals more so than large corporations. So, now if the ONLY type of small business that can survive is the gift or novelty store, no wonder when the economy falls (largely in part of the greed of the larger corporations mistakes) the first to get hit are these small business. Because, when you need to tighten your belt you will cut out that sort of item and then head to the big box store where you can buy your food really cheaply. So, the system really is set up to be self-protective at the expense of the small business and the middle class. The sad thing, really, is that WE are the reason it continues. WE are the people saying, “Sure, I’ll head on down to Wal-Mart and save and don’t care how cheaply the product it made or where it comes from” and yet wonder after our small downtowns and good friendly neighborly customer service with people we know.
Well, this rant was really meant for me to discern what tangible quality vintage items and nostalgia have. And I think when it comes right down to it we all now, collectively, that we are not living right. We feel the emptiness and shallow existence that we currently are a part of, but haven’t any idea how to free ourselves. So, that piece of the past that represents a world we wish we could have allows us to use as a touchstone. A small connection to a time we either consciously or subconsciously covet.
I want to find ways to make our desire to have this life, to try and get it back, more realistic. That it can be an actual process we could try and go through to achieve. I think if I do try and go ahead with a book that would be it’s main point. To celebrate what I have learned from 1955, but also really to be a primer for those of us that would like to take back the past and start building a new future. It seems so daunting in the face of the vastness of the corporation and so many people blindly following a life driven by fear, but maybe we really can live in a bubble inside that world. I know I do presently. And, much like in the bath, if enough small bubbles bounce and come into contact with one another, a larger bubble is often formed. I don’t know if there is a real way for all of us to get back a Vintage life, but I am surely willing to try. In fact, every day I try and most times succeed.
Well, I hope this post isn’t too much nonsensical rambling. I honestly feel that the memorable past can be a gateway to a better life. Does anyone want to come along with me?
Until tomorrow, Happy Homemaking.

18 August 1956 “Those Who Have Gone Before Us: We Salute You.”

A recent comment from a long time follower really touched my heart:
Hey 50's Gal,
Sorry I haven't commented the past few days, we buried my Grandmother yesterday, a great lady at the age of 90, she will truly be a hard act to follow.
In the 50's she raised her family on a farm, helped my Grandpa out in the fields, took care of the barns, yet still managed to make homemade food and pies. Lunches were like suppers with meat, starch, veggie and dessert.
I don't know how she managed it, but she did and in my eyes she truly eclipsed the modern Superwoman by leaps and bounds.
I will also miss her for the rest of my life.......
Mom in Canada
It got me thinking how many statues of military figures or plaques to various men in history can be found everywhere. How documentaries and films are made about the lost hero of the past. Yet, where is the homemaker? Where is her memorial? How many of those so honored themselves had a loving mother making a home and family life for them.
The more I have come to be ingrained in the 1950’s role of Homemaker, the greater my admiration for those ladies grows. The silent proud casts of millions that for centuries, in various forms, made the world in which we live. So much had been discussed and hearlded when Women’s liberation became a topic and for some reason, that strongest female heroine of all time: The homemaker, was not lauded but instead tossed in the dust bin. How can we, as ladies, expect men to appreciate such a role when we, ourselves, call it foolish or old fashioned. Is it old fashioned to want a home of love and a place to grow and raise future members of communities? Is it not a certain strength to make the world nice for those around you, because you enjoy it (though it is work) and feel it is part of your role?
As those final ladies of the 50’s generation pass away and we are left with the Boomers as our new ‘old’, I feel an almost fear or panic. Nothing against the Boomer generation, but we must all admit that the war generation, those ladies who made and raised the boomers, were a breed of their own. And consider the stock from which they came: Laundry boiled in huge dangerous pots, everything made and grown by hand, child birth taking many without proper medicine.
The homemaker was and is an important part of our human history. Rather modern ‘libbers’ want to forget about the smiling mothers in aprons in kitchens or want only to herald the random ruling Queen’s or other wealthy Suffrages, lest we forget the common woman who, without her, the world would have ceased surely. And, now without her, with her role all but gone or a shambles, what have we now with the world?
So, I ask of you, any of you, if you would like to: Email me family photos and stories and I shall share them here as I can. Tell us now about that grandmother or great aunt or even mother, who selflessly made the world a beautiful safe and comfortable place where the meals were hot and nutritous, there was always the smell of something wonderful in the air, a dampened hankie was always available to make the wayward dirty face better and the prim hat, coat, and gloves were a badge of honor as proud and important as any military uniform that ever was.
Today, ladies and gentleman, I salute the Homemaker, the mother, the woman of the past who diligently and with great skill and courage, made our world better and stronger. I stand in salute to you great and fallen in my best Sunday hat and coat, my gloved hand at salute to those who knew that what might seem silly to us now, was not only important but was what gave we humans, Humanity. I salute you the unsung hero.
Here are an assortment of photos of such women. If these are from any of your blogs, I do apologize for using them, but I felt they deserved to be here.
 

5 August 1955 “Dianne’s Day, Teen Fashion, and Art”

After receiving a wonderful comment (which follows) from one of my readers, Dianne, I had to reprint it here. I hope that she does not mind, but her recounting of a day in 1955 was so perfect, I felt it needed to be addressed.
I was so inspired by her glimpse into her past that I felt I had to add these photos I found. They are NOT Dianne's, but they had a feeling, to me, of her day recounted. I hope you enjoy it.
    To 50's gal and all: I will be very glad to tell you why 1955 was my favorite year. I was in high school in 1955 and it seemed liked a period of time when everything was exactly as it should be. Have you ever experienced that? While 1955 actually straddled two school years, they were both great. I loved my teachers, my classes, and had some wonderful times with my friends. I had my favorite teacher for homeroom and English class. We were studying Chaucer, lots of Shakespeare, the Globe theater, and English poets and their poems. I loved every minute of it. Perhaps if I share a favorite weekend it will help you understand. My girlfriend and I had planned a special weekend with me spending Friday and Saturday night there. I always loved being at her home and to this day it remains one of my favorite houses. It was a large two story house with a lot craftsman style. The living room was dark green with a great deal of crisp white woodwork,a white mantel, and white craftsman style build in bookcases with glass doors. The comfortable sofa and chairs were slipcovered in a softly muted large floral print. It was our plan to take the bus downtown on Saturday morning to buy matching outfits. We had each saved $2.98 to buy gray corduroy bermuda shorts and pink knee socks (probably about $.59). It was one of those beautiful October days when the sky was a perfect blue with fluffy (cumulus) clouds. We got home and changed into our matching outfits: pink sweaters, gray corduroy bermuda shorts (they had a very different cut than shorts today), pink knee socks, and penny loafers. After lunch, we headed off (walking) to the neighbor soda fountain for dessert. Two happy teenaagers getting a strawberry ice cream cone and a vanilla fountain Pepsi. When we got home her father was finished with his Saturday chores and offered to teach us how to waltz. He was a distinguished looking man, silver hair and also a silver gray mustache. He had a beautiful speaking voice. A record was put on and we took many turns waltzing around that attractive living room with this gentle man. Of course we were so pleased we had gotten these special outfits to wear on this beautiful October day. That night we attended a party (we did not wear our great outfits, we were dressed up) and that gallant man escorted us to the family car to drop us off at the party. This October 2009, it will be 54 years ago that two excited high school girls spent an absolutely perfect Saturday afternoon waltzing around a living room with a distinguished gentleman. By 1965 that world didn't exist any more; it was as obselete as the dinasaur. I do not mean any disrespect to those who love the 1960's and the bright,happy colors of that time. Most likely teenagers today wouldn't have a clue how to understand that day, and might even ridicule it. But for me, my heart belongs in 1955 when I wore full skirts with crinolines that rustled and swished when I walked and could enjoy a day like that October Saturday. That day is firmly fixed in my Happy Place Memories. Best wishes to all and thank you for reading about one of my favorite days and hope it helps you understand why I love 1955. Dianne
This made me, again, think of a 1950’s teens wardrobe. How I honestly feel that a teen girl then was really given the opportunity to dress for fun and for herself, not to be ‘sexy for boys’. Compare that with these modern fashions Again, I am not a prude and in fact I am only getting to realize that the 1950’s really was not restrictive except in the way that it restricted what men could stare at. There really is a truth to being treated the way you represent yourself. One of my friends told me she watched some tv show about modern teens in abusive (as in beating and broken limbs) relationships increasing. I am not saying, put on a puffy dress and you get respected, but there is an element in the way one feels and represents oneself in their clothes. Then, the fashion allowed one to be ‘cool’ in the latest style while still having fun with fashion in a way that skimpy sexy clothes that aren’t ‘situation specific’ can be. I don’t know, maybe I am just rambling or overheated from all my packing, what do any of you think?


David Hockney was born on July 9, 1937, in Bradford, England. This is a painting of his father. Somehow I thought it fit with our dear friend Diane’s story, as this was painted in 1955 and it is of a distinguished father. I find I am struck by the color and style of this Hockney. I have been tempted and drawn, of late, to return to my paint pots and canvas. I have not, as yet, done so. But, somehow deep inside is boiling up ideas that I can take to the canvas from this year. The ideas and ideals, the skills and respect that has been growing for this lost generation needs expressing somehow. I have mentioned Mark Rothko in the past and this painting is from 1955. I have to say it has come to mean to me, somehow, all that I loathe of what is to become in the art world. The over painted expression of the “I” over the viewer. The importance of the artist’s ‘feeling and moment’ over the response required from the viewer. To me it has come to represent the laziness and unaccountability of the modern world. “Why should I work hard to represent an emotion or object or time” the artist might be seeming to say. “I don’t have to worry about how the viewer responds, let them figure out what THEY see”. Just my opinion. This painting, also made in 1955, has much allegory and yet can be viewed in its beauty of color, form and composition. He was part of a time when industrilzation was seen as the god and beacon of new man. He often chose to view the changing world much the way I have come to see it. The corporation and greed over human dignity. His beliefs were to get him into trouble in the post WWII era time of the “Red Scare”. His brother, blacklisted screenwriter and movie director Herbert Biberman, was one of the Hollywood 10, jailed for contempt in refusing to answer congressional inquiries about his socialist political affiliations. I feel, in this case, I can see and feel now much more of that world in an image such as this than I would ever take away from a Rothko. In a sense, Rothko and later, I feel, Warhol, represented that very thing they may have meant to poke fun at:over-produced un-indvidualized art and craft. Mass produced images and non-specific almost machine done productions. There is much of the mirror in art, don’t you think?
Well, no recipes or cleaning tips this time around. I do have a funny story (though it wasn’t at the time) of an incident I had with a cake, a hot humid night, and preparing for baked goods for my hubby to take to work. I shall recount that. I also promised to talk about 1950’s beauty tips and products, I too will get to that, don’t think I forgot.
Well, until later then, have a great day and keep homemaking!