Sweet Dreams

One of the projects I'd like to get started on when I get back from Maine is to begin laying away some Christmas gifts for my nieces. My dream is to give them some lovely old-fashioned flannel or muslin nightgowns - matching, of course! I can picture just the thing in my mind... The problem: I'm no seamstress. And practically the only girls' nightgowns you see out there these days are those dreadful polyester gowns screenprinted with one character or another. I can crochet a mean trim, though, and have some vintage pattern books with trims that would look just darling around the cuffs or neckline of a little girl's nightgown. So I'd like to find some basic flannel gowns that could use a little embellishment. Lands' End offers a red flannel gown that might work and Vermont Country Store has a floral gown in stock with an eyelet trim. Have any of you eagle-eyed shoppers seen gorgeous girls' nightgowns out there lately? Kitten will be just a few days shy of three this Christmas and Poppet will be 19 months old. (Gotta catch 'em while they're young with these matching outfits!)

As for us grown up girls, here are some of the 1940s nightgowns I've been coveting for myself lately. Can you tell I'm longing for cold winter nights?



Marjorie: You won't believe how wonderfully my prune whip turned out last night.
Helen: It can't possibly be better than mine, dear. Bill can't get enough!





Even the pajamas are pretty! I adore the floor-length rayon nighties with the lacy trim and plunging necklines. And the cable-knit bed jacket looks so soft...



Mustn't let the milkman catch us in our night things! A robe (or two or three) should do the trick. Check out the military influence in the red piece below. It was offered by Ward's for Christmas 1944:





No vintage night ensemble is complete without a pair of slippers. Sears offered slippers in every shape imaginable. It looks like blues and plums, crimson and dusty rose were the colors of the season in 1947.

Confession Time

So it turns out that I'm a bit of a streaker.

I suppose it's natural when you live by yourself... You just stop bothering to put on a robe and slippers every time you leave the bedroom. And though it really isn't a problem if my blinds are closed, I don't think it's very vintage-minded of me to be running about with only my nightclothes on.

Every time I see a movie from these years, the heroine (or villainess) always seems to wake in the morning with her slippers on the floor by her bed and her bathrobe draped over the foot of the bed. Before she steps away from her bedside, she's gracefully attired in robe and slippers. Even in her own home, it's kind of improper that anybody see your nightgown but your mirror and your spouse.

Should I really be treating my home like it's one big bedroom?

Catch-up Time

It's high time for one of those lil' bit of everything kinda posts - a catch-up post. The Great Housekeeping Experiment has left me curious about lots of things along the way, and I wanted to report on some of the things I've discovered.

First of all, my decision to straighten up the living room just before going to bed at night seems to work really well for me right now. I haven't forgotten to do it in quite some time, and having that extra few minutes in the morning for bedmaking has come in handy. For now, it works nicely. I'm not sure that'll be the case as I add more chores to my housekeeping schedule. The evenings may become a little more busy. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Remember that article on "eating to reduce" in a vintage copy of Good Housekeeping? I was curious about the portions I've been eating and how they compare to 1945 diet advice. According to the magazine, a standard size portion of cereal (suitable only for the men and teenaged boys in your family) was 2/3 cup. Women, teenaged girls and children should have a slightly smaller portion. A few days ago, Malt-O-Meal was on the menu at breakfast, and I prepared one serving according to the instructions on the package. When the cereal was finished cooking, it turned out to be 3/4 cup. Larger than even the serving size recommended for men and growing boys! I think I'll try cutting the size of the portions I'm making by just a smidge and see if I can get the finished servings of cereal down at least to 2/3 cup. I'd love a vintage waistline!

Speaking of cereal, this morning's menu was perfect for a chilly day:

Oatmeal with Prunes

The description is ever-so-slightly different than a similar meal I had a few weeks ago:

Stewed Prunes

Oatmeal

So instead of serving the Prunes on the side, I cut them in pieces and dropped 'em into the pot of oatmeal while it was bubbling away. A subtle twist on words here, but I think the author of the cookbook meant for these to be two different meals. In a vintage magazine article on bringing your family back to the breakfast table, I read that you might make cooked cereals more tempting to Jim or little Patty by adding dried dates, raisins, figs, prunes, or apricots. No doubt.

One of the questions I took up about a month ago was the wardrobe appropriate for a 1940s housewife during the early hours of the morning. Should I be fully dressed and ready for company by the time I start breakfast? Would a housecoat be suitable for morning housework? How 'bout a robe and slippers? Since I head off for work after breakfast, I've been getting dressed before getting things started in the kitchen - but hadn't given up my comfy slippers until yesterday. Let's face it, though. If a '40s housewife went to the trouble of getting fully dressed before breakfast, she probably didn't dumb down her outfit with slippers! So shoes it is. And though I love wearing a pinafore-style apron while I'm working at the stove, it doesn't seem quite right once I'm sitting down to eat. It's funny --- there's nobody here to see what I'm wearing - or not wearing - at the breakfast table, but wardrobe can really have an impact on your state of mind. Breakfast should be a festive meal.

In the homes of workers breakfast always comes at the all-too-brief period between waking and dashing off for the train to the city. It is the unusual commuter who rises early enough to spend much time at table in the morning... Set your table in the sun, if possible. Look out on a garden if you can do so, or, in winter, on a birds' feeding station. It's fun to have breakfast in company with the juncos and blue jays. It's also nice to pull a small table close up to the open fire on chilly mornings, or to set out breakfast on the terrace in summer. Flowers or fruit on the table. Place mats, or a gay peasant cloth. Napkins at left. People should wake up cheerful and breakfast should be serene and gay. Try to manage your household so that your husband enjoys his breakfast and wishes he could stay longer, even as you push him out the door with a kiss on his way to the eight-fourteen.

Lily Haxworth Wallace, ed., The New American Etiquette
(New York: Books, 1941)

Here's my last bit of catch-up for the day. A glimpse of my favorite vintage tablecloth, which probably dates to the WWII years. It makes my table so bright and cheery. Even on days with a menu like the infamous Tomato Juice and Waffles with Butterscotch Sauce.

Competing Visions

Since I still had a Grapefruit Half left over from yesterday, today's breakfast was more of the same. Once again, I ended up with citrus juice on my tablecloth. I've decided that I'm either going to have to loosen each of the segments at the kitchen countertop before bringing my grapefruit to the table or take the tablecloth off the table when grapefruits or oranges are on the menu! Maybe I'll have pick up some non-vintage table linens for just these kinds of mornings...

I came across an article in a July 1944 issue of The American Home with one woman's routine in keeping house. "I Run My Career Like a Star" was written by Celia Mattox, a mother of three. Here's the bit on her morning schedule:

Whatever day it is, it begins at 6:30. To wash, I slip into a becoming dressing gown - watch the shade, for a strong color gives a pasty look to a face without any make-up. Then I change into my blue denim outfit to prepare breakfast. [She explains earlier that while at home during the day she likes to wear a "becoming cotton blouse" with a blue denim skirt and "gay apron."] That over, the dishes are stacked, the house is aired, and I snatch a few minutes to do my exercises.

There's one woman who opted for a "dressing gown" while she spent some time in the bathroom washing up, but she was fully dressed before hitting the kitchen. I notice that she mentions stacking the dishes (maybe she doesn't wash her breakfast dishes right away either) and airing her house (fresh air is given lots of emphasis in the 1945 housekeeping manual). It sounds like Mrs. Mattox wouldn't have much to argue about with the authors of the manual - at least when it comes to her early morning routine. Heck, maybe she even owned a copy herself!



The Good Housekeeping Housekeeping Book (1947), edited by Helen W. Kendall, also contains a schedule for housework, though it's not quite as detailed as the one in the 1945 manual. Each member of the household is instructed to "hang up night clothes and put away slippers" before finishing up in their bedrooms in the morning. As soon as breakfast is over, "the dishes should be washed and the kitchen straightened up before you go about other household work."

• Remove dishes from the table, scrape, and rinse under the faucet if they need it. Stack them neatly at one side of the sink.
  
• Put away foods that belong in the refrigerator.
  
• Clear away waste food. Get rid of grounds from coffee or tea pot and empty cooking utensils which have been soaking during the meal.
  
• Clean sink so that it will be ready for dishwashing.
  
• Prepare dishwater and wash, dry, and put away dishes.

Kendall suggests that the living room be tidied up just before going to bed at night. "To start each day with the room neat, take a few minutes before going to bed to pick up newspapers and magazines, empty the ash trays, and take glasses into the kitchen." While the 1945 manual advises every member of the family to do their part in straightening up the living room at bedtime, they seem to have built this step into the post-breakfast routine just in case others hadn't done their part after Mother retired for the evening. Those crazy teenagers and their record players! As a one-woman household, I have more control over this situation, so tidying up the living room at bedtime rather than in the morning is certainly an option.

Kendall recommends that pots and pans be soaked during the meal so they're ready for dishwashing as soon as you are. A great concept, but what if your family's interested in a second serving? This would probably work out fine for me unless I had any leftovers that needed to be dispatched with beforehand. The biggest way in which Kendall's routine differs from my 1945 housekeeping manual is dishwashing. She is adamant that the breakfast dishes must be washed before doing anything else. This is not a bad idea, but the fact that I have a dishwasher which only gets filled up a couple times a week makes it kind of a moot point. I might give some thought to getting the pots and pans washed up and put away right after breakfast. If I straightened up the living room at bedtime, that'd free up some time for dishwashing in the a.m.

What do you think? Have you come across any vintage housekeeping schedules that offer advice for these early morning chores?

A Wardrobe Question

I'm up to my ears in gingerbread this evening, but I wanted to pop in and share some of the things I've been pondering lately as I stir my Malt-O-Meal and tidy up my living room. For starters, the schedule in my 1945 housekeeping manual doesn't tell me when the housewife could shower (or bathe) and dress herself. Did she head down to the kitchen fully washed and dressed and ready to be seen by early morning callers, or was she wearing a robe with her hair still in curlers? If we were to judge by advertisements from the era, I'd say they were fully dressed at the breakfast table. In real life, though, was that really the case?

For myself, I've found that it seems to make more sense for me to get showered and dressed (and to have the bedroom straightened up) before I begin preparing breakfast. That way, if I have something that's going to take a long time - like Stewed Apricots or Prunes - I can get those started before getting dressed and have plenty to do while they're bubbling away on the back burner. Plus, I'm just not able to summon any kind of appetite as soon as I get out of bed in the morning. Definitely need some time to rustle that up! Since I have to head to work by 7:15 or so, I might as well be fully dressed as I go about my early morning chores.

Was it an age thing? Were older women more likely to be dressed for the day before leaving the bedroom? Were mothers - who also had to get the kids up and dressed - more likely to spend the early morning in bathrobe and slippers? Where do housecoats fit in? Here are some wonderful photos of '40s housewives in morning garb courtesy of the Library of Congress. The captions were written by the photographers.

Sheffield, Alabama. Mrs. Hall prepares breakfast for her husband before he leaves for work at the aluminum plant. (June 1942)

Washington, D.C. Lynn Massman, wife of a student at the Naval Air Station, eating breakfast while her eight-weeks-old son takes a nap. (December 1943)

Cincinnati, Ohio. Mrs. Cochran, the wife of a Greyhound bus driver, giving the children Sunday breakfast. (September 1943)

Frankford, Pennsylvania. Although she's one of America's vital production workers eight hours each day, fifty-five-year-old Eva Smuda still finds plenty of time to devote to home and family. Before the rest of the household is up, she has breakfast on the stove. (March 1942)

I was super excited when I found some Wheatena at one of the local grocery stores on my way home from work today. I've been looking all over for something wheat-y in the hot cereal section. And just in the nick of time, too, as I spy Cooked Whole-wheat Cereal coming up on the menu. The next item on my scavenger list: maple sugar. My breakfast this morning was building-blocks basic:

Grapefruit Juice

Cooked Farina and Barley Cereal

You know, I don't mind the lumps in my cereal very much when they happen, but I'm finding it's become a point of pride or something to make lump-free cereal. What's happening to me?!?

Dinner and Dancing

Mr. and Mrs. Amberg are having the Millers over for cocktails and dinner, and then they're off for a dance at the country club. Probably more of a fantasy for the average American housewife than a reality. Unless they had hired help, the Ambergs would have had dinner dishes to clean up after and kids to get off to bed. They would only occasionally be able to afford an evening out. I suspect these pictures were actually taken over a series of days than being "a day in the life," otherwise Mrs. Amberg's changed her clothing six times in one day!

Jane Amberg, housewife & mother, prepares for dinner party by carrying roast beef platter to dining table she has carefully set w. colorful place mats, silver candlesticks and silver center piece w. flowers & a bottle of Chianti as her guests finished cocktails in living room.

Hostess housewife Jane Amberg (C) chatting w. her dinner guests Mr. Bert Miller & wife, as her husband Gilbert stands behind her, carving a roast beef to be served at table set w. place mats, candlesticks & a bottle of Chianti, at their home.

Jane Amberg dancing w. husband Gilbert (3L) amidst other couples at their country club formal dance.

Jane Amberg mending a pair of socks as she lounges in bedroom while listening to her favorite jazz records during her "leisure" hours (time w/o kids) at home.