Authors: Lisa Grunwald,Stephen Adler
Tags: #Family & Relationships, #Marriage & Long Term Relationships, #General, #Literary Collections
“Bundling” was a common practice of the time, wherein an unmarried couple was allowed in a bed together, wrapped tightly in blankets, sometimes with a board placed between them, so that they could talk and be intimate without having sex.
Dear Nieces.
You remember that I wrote you a new Years Address, about two Years since, containing some few Articles of Advice that I then thought would pass with Propriety, considering the Relation between us, from me to you. You are at least two Years older, than you were then, and from a careful observation of your Conduct, I have found few Occasions of Blame, and from
your Conversation, and a frequent Inspection of your Compositions, I have reason to think your time has been in general, and in Comparison of the rest of your own sex, not ill improved.
But there are numberless Particulars that . . . will . . . be I hope no unacceptable Present, for the Year 1761.
The first relate to the Delicacy of your own Persons and Houses . . . the very general Complaint of british Ladies is that their Teeth, Necks, Hair, Perspiration and Respiration, Kichens and even Parlors are no cleaner nor sweeter than they should be. And the same ground of Complaint is in America. For my own Part, tho not very attentive to my own Person, nothing is so disgustful and loathsome to me, and almost all our sex are of my mind, as this Negligence. My own Daughters, whenever they shall grow to Years of Discretion, I am determined to throw into a great Kettle and Boil till they are clean, If I ever find them half so nasty as I have seen some. . . .
2. The next Article is that of Dress. It may be just[ly] considered, as the Principal Design of a young Lady from her Birth to her Marriage, to procure and prepare herself for a worthy Companion in Life. This I believe is modestly enough expressed. Now the finest face, and shape, that ever Nature formed, would be insufficient to attract and fix the Eye of a Gentleman without some Assistance and Decoration of Dress. And I believe an handsome shoe, well judged Variety of Colours, in Linnen, Laces &c., and even the Rustling of silks has determined as many Matches as any natural features, or Proportions or Motions. Hes a fool that is determined wholly by either or by both, but even a wise man will take all these, as well as others less, into Consideration. . . .
3. The 3d is [a] sense of Elegance. . . .
Neither rich furniture nor dress, nor Provisions, without this, will ever please.
The 4th is Behaviour in mixed Companies. I would not have you Pedants in Greek and Latin nor the Depths of science, nor yet over fond to talk upon any Thing. When your opinion is asked, give it. When you know any Thing, that the Company are at a loss for, disclose it. But what I mean is this. Attend to the Conversation of Gentlemen even when News, Politicks, Morals, Oeconomy, nay even when Literature and science but beyond the fathom of your Line make the subject: do not attempt to turn the Conversation to Billy’s Prattle—To the Doggs, or Negroes or Catts, or to any little contemptible tittle tattle of your own.
5thly. Observations of Mankind, or what is called the World. As the House is your Theatre of Action, an Attentive Observation of Domestic Characters should be your Rule. You are in all Probability in some future Part of your Life, to have Husbands. Remark carefully the Behaviour of other Wifes, wherever you go, to their Husbands, but distinguish well between Propriety of Behaviour and the Contrary. . . .
6thly. Under this Head of Conversation with the World falls naturally enough . . . Conversation with some Person of the other Sex alone: and this before Marriage And even
Courtship. Our illustrious young Monarck, indeed, will probably be married by Proxy to some Princess abroad, that he never saw: and this is for Reasons of State, no doubt necessary. . . .
And it seems, by what I see and hear, that Persons of Rank and figure even in this Province, are desirous that their Daughters should be married to Men who never saw them, by their prevailing Practice of concealing them from all Males, till a formal Courtship is opened. This Practice must proceed either from deplorable folly, an Awkward Imitation of Majesty, or else from a Consciousness of their Daughters futility and a Dread to expose them.
But be it remembered that no Man that is free and can think, will rush blindfold, into the Arms of any such Ladies, who, tho it is possible they may prove Angells of Light, may yet more probably turn out Haggs of Hell.
You must therefore associate yourselves in some good Degree, and under certain Guards and Restraints, even privately with young fellows. And, tho Discretion must be used, and Caution, yet on [considering] the whole of the Arguments on each side, I cannot wholly disapprove of Bundling.
“ADVICE TO UNMARRIED LADIES”
NEW-YORK DAILY GAZETTE
, 1789
The article was not signed.
If you have blue eyes—languish.
If black eyes—leer.
If you have a pretty foot, wear short petticoats.
If you are in the least
doubtful
as to that point—let them be rather long.
If you have good teeth—don’t forget to laugh now and then.
If you have bad ones—you must only simper.
While you are young—sit with your face to the light.
When you are a little advanced—sit with your back to the window.
If you have pretty hands and arms—play on the lute.
If they are rather clumsy—work tapestry.
If you have a bad voice—always speak in a low tone.
If you have the finest voice in the world—never speak in a high tone.
If you dance well—dance but seldom.
If you dance ill—never dance at all.
If you sing well—make no previous excuses.
If you sing indifferently—hesitate not a moment when you are asked; for few people are judges of singing, but every one is sensible of a desire to please.
If in conversation you think a person wrong—rather hint a difference of opinion, than offer a contradiction.
If you find a person telling an absolute falsehood, let it pass over in silence—it is not worth your while to make any one your enemy by proving him a liar.
Never touch the sore place in any one’s character—for be assured, whoever you are, you have a sore place in your own; and woman is a flower that may be blasted in a moment.
It is always in your power to make a friend by smiles—but a folly to make enemies by frowns.
When you have an opportunity to praise—do it with all your heart.
When you are forced to blame—appear, at least, to do it with reluctance.
If you are envious of another woman—never shew it but by allowing her every good quality and perfection except those she really possesses.
If you wish to let all the world know you are in love with a particular man—treat him with formality; and every one else with ease and freedom.
Make it a rule to please all—and never appear insensible to any desirous of pleasing or obeying you, however aukwardly it may be executed.
If you are disposed to be pettish or insolent—it is better to exercise your ill humours on your dog, your cat, or your servant, than your friends.
If you would preserve beauty—rise early.
If you would preserve esteem—be gentle.
If you would obtain power—be condescending.
If you would live happy—endeavor to promote the happiness of others.
DOROTHY DIX
COLUMN, 1922
Elizabeth Meriwether (1861–1951) was twenty-one when she married George Gilmer and still in her early twenties when she had to face the fact that he was both physically and mentally ill. Though the couple never divorced, she spent a great deal of time away from him. Hired by the New Orleans
Daily Picayune
in 1894, she started by writing obituaries, but a year later, as “Dorothy Dix,” she introduced the weekly advice column for which she became internationally famous, eventually reaching an estimated sixty million readers through syndication in more than 250 newspapers.
Dix is sometimes confused with Dorothea Lynde Dix, a nineteenth-century social activist. In fact, the columnist chose her byline because she had always liked the name “Dorothy” and because “Dick” was the name of a former slave who had loyally saved the family’s silver during the Civil War.
Mother didn’t approve of bobbed hair, of high water-skirts, and bare knees, of jazz, of shimmying, of the eternal gadding of her flapper daughter, and she waged a ceaseless but futile fight against them.
“Aw, lay off, Ma,” protested the girl. “Come up to date! This is 1922, instead of 1892. What do you expect me to do? Sit up of an evening in the parlor with a fellow, and show him the family photograph album, and feed him on chocolate cake like you used to do?
“I am having my day. You had yours, though I’ll tell the world it must have been some punk day for a girl in your time.”
“Oh, I don’t know that life was so altogether unendurable in the remote ages to which you refer so pityingly,” replied mother. “The girls in those times had their amusements, and life had its compensations even if we stayed in our own front yards instead of jumping all the bars as you do.
. . . “You speak with scorn of our simple amusements. It is true that we had no jazz then, and were so ignorant that we did not even suspect that cow bells and tin pans, and kitchen pots were musical instruments that ravished the senses when beaten upon by a husky hand, but every girl then played upon the piano, and she was a mighty poor performer who couldn’t put on the soft pedal, and hand out gooey, sentimental stuff until she got a man so doped up that he would be proposing before he knew it. There is nothing in jazz that makes a man think about home and mother. It makes him want to go out and be free, and wild, and untrammeled. Put that in your cigarette and smoke it.
. . . “You
modern girls are wise about many things, but you don’t know your a b c’s about how to handle men.
“In proof whereof,” concluded mother, “in your day you run after men that you can’t catch, and in my day we coyly eluded men who pursued us, captured us, and married us.”
“Some day,” said the flapper.
FRANK LOESSER
“MARRY THE MAN TODAY,” 1949
For its unforgettable music, perfect structure, and lively characters,
Guys and Dolls
is often cited as the best musical of all time. The basic plot—inspired by Damon Runyon’s stories of the New York underworld—involves two supposedly hard-boiled gamblers and the women they can’t resist. Frank Loesser (1910–1969) wrote both the music and lyrics. “Marry the Man Today” is the duet sung at the end of the show by the two female leads.
Guy Lombardo was a popular bandleader; Rogers Peet was a men’s clothing store.
Marry the man today
Trouble tho’ he may be
Much as he likes to play
Crazy and wild and free.
Marry the man today
Rather than sigh and sorrow,
Marry the man today
And change his ways tomorrow.
Marry the man today
Maybe he’s leaving town
Don’t let him get away
Hurry and track him down
Counterattack him and
Marry the man today
Give him the girlish laughter
Give him your hand today
And save the fist for after.
Slowly introduce him to the better things
Respectable, conservative and clean
Reader’s Digest!
Guy Lombardo!
Rogers Peet!
Golf!
Galoshes!
Ovaltine!
But marry the man today
Handle it meek and gently
Marry the man today and train him subsequently.
NUNNALLY JOHNSON
HOW TO MARRY A MILLIONAIRE
, 1953
When it was originally released,
How to Marry a Millionaire
was as notable for its cast and story as it was for the fact that it was one of the first movies made in CinemaScope, the wide-screen format intended to attract an increasingly home-bound TV audience. The pros and cons of the technology supplied much of the focus for reviews in the
New York Times
and
The New Yorker
. The actual plot of the movie was seen as less revolutionary. Written by Nunnally Johnson (1897–1977), the comedy starred Lauren Bacall, Marilyn Monroe, and Betty Grable as three models who rent an upscale apartment in an effort to snare upscale husbands.
Schatze Page was played by Bacall, Loco Dempsey by Monroe.
SCHATZE: | Well, to put it simply, the idea is this. If you had your choice of everybody in the world, which would you rather marry, a rich guy or a poor one? |
LOCO: | I think I’d rather marry a rich one. |
SCHATZE: | All right, then, where would you be more likely to meet a rich one? In a walk-up on Amsterdam Avenue, or in a joint like this? |
LOCO: | Well, I should say in a joint like this. |
SCHATZE: | Okay then, that’s it. We’re all working steady, so we throw everything we make into the kitty and get a little organization into this marriage caper. Class address, class background, class characters. To be specific about it, nothing under six figures a year. |
LOCO: | I’ve never heard anything so intelligent in my life. |
SCHATZE: | Well, if you wanna catch a mouse, you set a mouse trap. So, all right, we set a bear trap. Now all we’ve got to do, is one of us has got to knock off a bear. |
LOCO: | You mean marry him? |
SCHATZE: | If you don’t marry him, you haven’t caught him, he’s caught you. |