Lesson 3 : What Was Life Like for Most Women in the 1950 S?

Lesson 3 : What was life like for most women in the 1950’s?

Read the article below and make a spider diagram about what it was like to be an adult woman in the 1950’s My week following 1950s housewife's guide: Will it turn me into a domestic goddess? By Louise Baty - Nov. 15th 2012

In my dreams, my home is immaculate. Delicious dinners bubble away on the stove and the sofa cushions are always neatly plumped.

But the reality is very different. Like most working mums, my life is on permanent fast forward. My husband Chris is a modern man and does loads around the house. But as he works full time, I really feel it’s my job to keep things in order. Caring for my eight-month-old daughter Marianne, though, combined with working part time, has led to chaos. Our living room looks like Toys R Us threw up in it and we’re always running out of clean clothes. I can just about manage cooking dinner as long as it involves beans and toast.

Maybe a new book, A 1950s’ Housewife, will give me some old-fashioned pointers. It looks at the history of my domestic predecessors, including their housekeeping tips. The book is fascinating and reveals how hard women worked back then. In the 1950s, feminism had not yet freed women from the home and so men didn’t need to lift a finger.

But author Sheila Hardy, who was a young woman in the 1950s, says this inequality wasn’t seen as such at the time. Men pulled their weight by working long hours and fetching coal for the fire. Sheila insists the women of her day were not downtrodden doormats – they were, she says, tough and ultra-organised.

“Modern women complain of pressure, but many 1950s women worked and still came home to do the domestic chores,” she says. So could I cut it as a 1950s housewife for a week? And would it turn me into a domestic goddess?

DOING THE LAUNDRY

Monday was set aside as washday in most 1950s households and there was a good reason why. Women spent hours boil-washing laundry before putting it through a mangle. It’s backbreaking work and my hands are red raw by the time I’ve finished. And washday was usually followed by the excitement of ironing night.

“Ironing took place on Tuesday evening if you were a working wife, or during the afternoon if you were at home,” says Sheila. Creased clothes just wouldn’t do in the 1950s. So, while I’d rather be watching Corrie, I reluctantly get all the ironing out. There’s so much billowing steam, I’ve given myself a DIY facial. But at least I’ve got an ironing board – in the 1950s, I’d be making do with a wooden plank on a table.

My stress levels aren’t helped by seeing Chris lounging on the sofa with a Mad Men-style shot of whisky. “Well, if you’re doing this authentically, so am I,” he says behind his paper. Charming! But I can’t help feeling all smug when I finally finish. Thanks to my efforts, my husband and child can face the world unmarked by creases. And I won’t have to go through this terror for another week. Time spent the 50s way: Seven hours. Time spent the modern way: Half an hour.

SHOPPING

Fridges were rare in the 1950s, and the internet non-existent. Housewives had to visit their local shops most days to buy food. I think this makes sense. It’s convenient to nip into the supermarket for a pint of milk, but superstores are sapping the life from local high streets. Then, there’s all those random, impulse buys you end up with when you trail around Tesco. “Shopping locally two or three times a week can save money,” says Sheila.

Down on our local high street, I buy minced beef from the butchers for tonight’s cottage pie, before popping into the greengrocers. I chat to the shopkeeper as he packs potatoes, onions and carrots. Supermarket shopping is never as friendly as this. Is it cheaper? Well, supermarket meat wouldn’t be as costly, but it’s probably not as good quality. It’s time- consuming, though. Not only do I have to write out daily meal plans, I have to stagger back up the hill with my bag full of groceries.

It’s heart-warming to think I’m supporting my local high street but it’s less hassle to order from home. Time spent the 50s way: An hour. Time spent the modern way: Half an hour a week to order online.

COOKING USING THE LEFTOVERS

Living through the rationing of the Second World War taught thrifty 1950s housewives to never waste a scrap. If that meant cobbling together a hearty meal from leftovers, then so be it. I like to make full use of leftovers too – but eating last night’s takeaway pizza straight out of the fridge probably doesn’t count.

Chris usually makes the dinner. But that wouldn’t have happened in the 1950s. “Very few men cooked,” according to Sheila. I decide to try making the book’s grim sounding minced meat and macaroni, using leftover mince from yesterday’s cottage pie. The recipe says to use lard. But that’s one step too far for me so I opt for some 21st-century olive oil. The meal is easy to make but looks decidedly beige when I plate it up.

As often happens when I present Chris with food I’ve cooked myself, he is wary. But, surprisingly, it’s a success. He even asks for second helpings – a rare occurrence. Time spent the 50s way: An hour. Time spent the modern way: Five minutes to open ready meal and cook in the microwave.

MAKE DO AND MEND

New clothes are an unaffordable luxury for many of us these days – just like in the 1950s, when times were hard after the War. Back then, 1950s ladies used their knitting needles and sewing machines to make their own clothes. Their inspirations were Dior’s New Look, which championed tiny waists and full skirts, and stylish royals, such as the young Queen and her sister Princess Margaret. Rather than buying outfits off the peg, women bought patterns and fabrics, before heading home to make their own dresses.

Sheila reckons this is something we could emulate in today’s cash-strapped economic climate. “This is the time for dressmaking, knitting and revamping old clothes,” she says. Finally, something I can get excited about. But I’m not sure I’d go as far as 1950s women, many of whom made their own wedding dresses.

Instead, I try some simple make do, and mend on Chris’s favourite trousers, which were heading for the bin after getting ripped. I also darn some socks – hardly thrilling but essential in the 1950s, when it wasn’t possible to pop into Primark and pick up cheap replacements. Time spent the 50s way: Darning took 10 minutes per sock. Time spent the modern way: Seconds to chuck offending socks in the bin. Half an hour to pop to the shops for a new pair.

SO DID MY 1950S WEEK TURN ME INTO A DOMESTIC GODDESS?

Honestly? I thank my lucky stars to be a woman living in 2012, rather than 1952. With mod cons at our disposal, why would we make life harder than it has to be? I’m even more thankful to be living in an age that is post-feminism, when real men aren’t afraid to brandish a feather duster, scrub down the shower, or bake a cake. Spending a whole day doing the laundry is a horror I would spare anyone.

But some of the skills I learnt, such as rustling up dinners from a few scraps, will almost certainly help me in my daily life. The 1950s were tough and I have respect for those who lived through them. My domestic experiment has taught me to be more organised. But, by the end of it, while feeling vaguely satisfied with all my household efforts, I was exhausted. http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/real-life-stories/living-like-a-1950s-housewife-will-it-turn- 1435905#ixzz35ZCNBwRo