Every few years, THIS 1955 article* resurfaces online and reminds me of the evolving way in which our society works and how roles and expectations change. Though I love the idea of my husband, or anyone else in my family for that matter, coming home to a tranquil environment (careers are consuming - it certainly takes a village to keep your stress low) - it's always good to have some hearty lols when you hear the 1955esque suggestions of how to make that happen:
"You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first — remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours."
"Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax."
"Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him."
I mean, dang. Can this chick be home waiting for Jay and me? I can't say that I would mind sliding through my front door to her clean house, her fluffed pillows and her waitressing services as she offers us a nice cool drink at 5:30 after a long day. I'm only human, after all. But while that all sounds nice, other wifely suggestions seem foreign to the reality I know. "Let him talk first" - or I'll talk when I want to talk, how about? Just call me Donkey from "Shrek", it's making me shut up that's the trick. "Never complain if he doesn't come home" - uh. Yeah, okay. I'll work on that in my next life.
As a matter of fact, the fabulous girls of this era have been on my mind lately - and not just in the form of apron-wearers. And that's because [drumroll please] we're watching "Mad Men" right now. Before I go on, please no spoilers! I know the show came out ten decades ago and thus I have no right to hush anyone on the topic but I'm trying to keep my brain a pure, virginal "Mad Men" space for as long as I can. With that said, outside of assuming that God most definitely cut into some of my time in order to spend a littlllleee more timmmmeeee on Jon Hamm (he took time from someone is all I can say), all I can look at is the ladies and all the fun stuff they get to wear in their 1960s professional existence.
When I was a little kid envisioning the turbulent '60s, I used to always say that I probably would have been a part of the hippie scene had I lived then. But as I've gotten older and my tastes and style has evolved, I know there's no way that could be true. The bouffant hairstyles, the bright makeup, the pillbox hats, the endless array form-fitting dresses, the sheer femininity of it all - that's something I definitely gravitate more to in my adult years. And as we've watched episode after episode, the only thing I'm swooning over
is Don Draper is heading to work in an ensemble that includes all of the above.
Though I'm pretty stoked that cigarettes are no longer allowed in offices. Nothing chic about those.
Well, maybe when Don's smoking one...