47 + 3 = 50

Phew! The scale is headed in the right direction again... I weighed in at 144 this morning which means I've officially lost 50 lbs. since adopting this vintage fitness and reducing plan last April.

50 lbs!!! I couldn't have imagined seven months ago actually being able to make that happen. I thought then I'd be thrilled - and content - just to trim off about 20 lbs. Just to make getting around a little bit easier, make the clothes fit a little bit more comfortably, make my face look a little less puffy. Well, "content" isn't good enough any more. I'm pleased as punch with the progress I've made (just this weekend, I realized my cheekbones are starting to be noticeable again!), but I've got a long road to go. 27 more lbs. to reach goal. I'd like to be comfortably in a size 8 --- right now I'm a snug 10. And I'd like to be off the blood pressure medication entirely --- I'm now taking just 1/4 of the dose I used to take. The holidays are bound to take a toll, but I'm determined to continue losing a little something over the next several weeks!

One of the radio programs I've been feasting on these days - in lieu of leftovers! - is The Goldbergs. Known as The Rise of the Goldbergs when it premiered in 1929, this popular daytime serial could be heard every weekday on NBC for some 20 years before it moved to television in 1949. The program follows the ever-dramatic lives of Molly and Jake Goldberg, a Jewish couple living in the Bronx, who move to a farm in Connecticut with their children, Sammy and Rosalie, in an effort to improve the family fortune. The Goldbergs was written by Gertrude Berg, who also starred as the Goldberg matriarch.

I adore this show! Can't get enough of it. Many episodes have disappeared - such was the fate with most soap operas - but there are a few long runs of surviving episodes that allow you to follow along with a handful of storylines. I've been listening these days to a storyline from the early spring of 1941. Sammy Goldberg has fallen in love with a girl named Sylvia Allison and, despite his mother's suspicions and doubt about the girl, has gone to Sylvia's home in the South where Mr. Allison has agreed to employ Sammy while the couple plan a wedding. Molly, Jake, and Rosalie have driven South to attend the wedding only to learn that Sammy has discovered Sylvia's shocking deceptions. Alas, she was apparently entangled with her sister's husband at one point! Will Molly be able to save Sammy from marrying Sylvia out of guilt? Is Sylvia emotionally unbalanced and likely to hurt herself or Sammy if she fears losing him? Can Molly heal the Allison family, too? Stay tuned for tomorrow's visit "with that lovable family," the Goldbergs...

One of the most enchanting things about The Goldbergs is the ads. Oxydol was sponsoring the program at this time and their promotional spots give you such insight into some of the trials and tribulations of washday I'd never really considered before. Laundry was a very public exercise in these days before automatic dryers. In 2009, we can do our laundry at any time of day and on any day of the week and nobody's the wiser. We can wear our robes (if that's all we've got left) while we do our laundry and can cheaply replace most anything that doesn't get clean enough. For most 1940s housewives, there was no such thing as privacy when it came to laundry. A women had to literally "air her dirty laundry" on Mondays by hanging her clean wash on clotheslines that were in view of all her neighbors and passersby. When it came to laundry, there were two measures of success that must have preyed on many a housewife's mind:

1. How early are you able to get that wash on the line?
You may never have been the first woman to get it out there, but it'd be awful to be the last! It must have been a special point of pride for a housewife who was able to hang her wash up to dry early - maybe before it was even time to begin preparing lunch for herself and any children at home. The Oxydol ads point up the idea that with this revolutionary new soap you won't need to boil your laundry or use one of those old fashioned scrub boards. Just a gentle wash in Oxydol, with a little extra attention to stains, and Mondays need no longer be your least favorite day of the week. With the wash dispatched by the time The Goldbergs came on the air at noon, you'd have time to "rest" --- "more time to enjoy yourself."

2. Is your laundry white enough?
Again, you'd probably never have the whitest wash in the neighborhood, but wouldn't your family be humiliated if there were greasy, yellow linens on your clothesline? Oxydol ads promised listeners "the kind of washes women turn to admire, even envy." Whoever the marketing folks behind these ads might have been, they'd clearly found a way to use feminine competitiveness to their advantage. There's nothing new under the sun when it comes to that. Women still pick each other apart more harshly then men do --- and I think we're always much more concerned with how other women will judge us on whatever accomplishments society currently deems "feminine" than we are about how men will judge us on those same accomplishments. That's still something the advertising business uses to drive profits.

A white wash was truly a challenge during the winter when women living in northern climates weren't able to hang the wash outdoors and take advantage of the bleaching effects of sunlight. Not to fear! Housewives who had to dry their laundry in basements or attics wouldn't have to worry about a "dingy and gray" wash if they'd only pick up a box of Oxydol on their next trip to the grocer's.

Here's something this liquid detergent user never thought about in relation to laundry soap. One of the points Oxydol uses to sell its product is the idea that you won't spend Mondays sneezing from the clouds of dust that your laundry soap raises every time you pour some out. For housewives who wanted to get to know this detergent a little better before investing in a box, Oxydol partnered with Apex, a washing machine manufacturer, to make a special offer during the spring of 1941. For a limited time, if you stopped by the showroom of your local Apex dealer, he would personally demonstrate the merits of Oxydol in one of those new "time-control" Apex washers.

All this talk of a laundry has got me all excited for tomorrow's wash. Almost makes me wish there were neighbors around to chat in awed whispers if I had the whitest wash on the street. You know I like a challenge!

Soap Opera

What on earth did people do when there were shortages of soap during the war?

If there's one thing that's become absolutely clear to me with these nightly baths, it's that I'm going thru a lot more soap than I was in the shower. One bar lasts me about ten baths before it breaks into pieces and has to be recycled to the soap dish beside my sink. Now imagine if I had a family of six (considered average in the '40s). My household would probably be going thru a bar of soap every other day. Unless I had a passel of little boys, that is! I know there are tricks to making a bar stretch. Like turning the little bits and pieces into a jellied soap. But even a few tricks like that won't keep your family squeaky clean. The only thing I can figure is that folks just got used to being a little less clean than they'd like to be...

Another thing I've noticed about my baths is the bathtub gets grimier and in need of a cleaning much more quickly than it used to. It no longer surprises me that the authors of America's Housekeeping Book (1945) recommended that the tub be thoroughly cleaned each and every day. Here in a single-person household, mine could probably use a good scrubbing twice a week.

Though the vintage articles on bathing I quoted from last week were split on whether a woman should soak in the hot water before - or after - doing her washing and exfoliating, I've fallen firmly into the before camp. The water is at its hottest and most likely to take the knots out of your shoulders. And it's not all cloudy with soap scum and, well, probably dead skin cells. If I waited to lie back and relax until after I got myself all cleaned up, I'd be soaking in my own grime! Definitely, definitely a before kinda girl.

All told, my nightly baths take me about 40 minutes. That's counting from the time I begin drawing the water until I'm drying off after my brief post-bath shower (for shaving and for washing my hair). It's more time consuming than a single shower in the morning, but I love the feeling of being super clean when I climb under the covers. Even better, it's a ritual that's actually getting me to bed earlier at night. It used to be I could easily stay up until 10:30 or 11:00 puttering about, surfing the net. These days, I'm into the tub by 8:30 or 9:00 and ready to turn out the lights and go to sleep by 9:30 or 10:00. I'm all mellowed out, I guess, by the time I get out of the tub. Don't feel like watching TV or even reading. I just want to call it a day. And you can't beat a little extra beauty sleep!

One of my vintage beauty missions this week is to be very mindful of giving myself a vigorous dry with the towel after my bath. It's also made me more mindful of my towels! So I'm going to go thru them in the next few days --- thinning out the linen closet, so to speak. If it's threadbare in spots - if it's not something I'd put out for a guest - then it's time to hit the rag bag. (The ratty towels will make great cleaning rags once they're cut up.) If I spy any loose threads, I'll trim 'em off with my sewing scissors. This will clear up some room for a few new towels in vintage colors.

Skin Care

Soap and water may have been okay for the teenage crowd, but 1940s beauty experts did have a few tricks up their sleeves for women looking for a little more in cleansing the face.

If you use a granular wash, such as beauty grains, you will find the skin tone clarified, and the texture improved. (The New American Etiquette, 1941)

An effective routine for the care of the war worker’s skin is frequent, thorough cleansing with warm water and a medicated soap. ("No Ration on Soap," St. Petersburg Times, 27 August 1943)

After cold water is used, an astringent should be applied with cotton, allowed to dry on. Cosmetic counters are full of them. ("To Improve Defects in Facial Skin," St. Petersburg Times, 28 February 1941)

I don't know yet if I'll take them up on any of this advice, but it's nice to know there are plenty of vintage options... The soap and water thing is probably not going to work in the long term for me - at least not just soap and water. I love the clean, but it leaves my face feeling a bit stingy even a couple hours later.

Could it be that I'm getting used to cooking dinner from scratch? For the first time since I started making the vintage dinners, I actually sat down at the table last night without feeling completely exhausted. Here's the menu:

Boiled Potatoes
Buttered Carrots
French Fruit Salad
Gingerbread Square

The Boiled Potatoes and Buttered Carrots are pretty self-explanatory. The Gingerbread was a wartime recipe - made without any sugar or eggs. It was easy to make and yummy fresh from the oven. (No nudges necessary to eat those leftovers!) The superstar of this menu was definitely the French Fruit Salad. The original menu calls for a Jellied Fruit Salad made with the leftover orange, pineapple, and banana from the previous menu (see last weekend). I don't eat gelatin as it's an animal by-product, so I paged through the chapter on salads looking for something I could make using the same fruits. Here's the recipe that caught my attention:

*****

FRENCH FRUIT SALAD

1 orange
1 banana
1/2 pound Malaga grapes
1 dozen walnuts
Lettuce
French dressing

Peel the orange and cut the sections from the membrane with a sharp knife or a pair of shears. If the fruit is allowed to stand in cold water after peeling, the bitter white membrance will come off easily.

Peel the banana and cut in quarter-inch slices. Remove the skins and seeds from the grapes. Break walnuts into small pieces, but do not chop. Mix these ingredients thoroughly and place on ice. Serve on lettuce leaves with a French dressing.

*****

The trick is making the French dressing variation that's suggested for fruit salads. No garlic, no pepper, light on the mustard, paprika, and sugar, citrus juice substituted for half the vinegar. The orange, banana, grapes, and walnuts were a lovely combination. Alas, I couldn't find any Malaga grapes at the supermarket. (Malaga grapes are both red and white grapes originally cultivated in a region of southern Spain. By the '40s, they were a profitable California crop.) My grapes were Chilean. And, no, I didn't peel 'em. What's with the '40s phobia about fruit skins? They're peeling their tomatoes, peeling their grapes. It's perfectly good fiber! And I love the snap of a super fresh grape - skin intact.

An Age-old Debate

One cosmetic issue just as hotly debated during the 1940s as it is today: whether or not to be gentle to your face when washing it. I find myself now - at 35 - being much more gentle with my face than I was in my early 20s. When all the world was my oyster and my skin would be beautiful forever... On the other hand, you do see all those infomercials with gorgeous women in towel turbans praising appliances meant to massage and stimulate your facial muscles. That's supposed to be the key to keeping a youthful skintone, so they say.

I'm not sure what to think, but it is a comfort knowing that my '40s counterpart probably would have been just as confused. Helen Follett, touched on the debate on the women's page of the St. Petersburg [Florida] Times during the early 1940s.

Never Be Afraid of Your Face

November 9, 1940

Don’t be afraid to give your complexion a thorough friction with soap and water. Some women clean their faces with little dabs as if the skin were something sacred, should be treated with the utmost gentleness. Friction tones the tissues, stimulates glandular activity and rouses up the blood streams which give good coloring to the flesh. Muscles and tiny fibers are exercised.

To Improve Defects in Facial Skin

February 28, 1941

Mirrors magnify complexion defects; let that be a consolation to the girl whose complexion is of coarse texture, pores large and falling into little dents. She longs for a fine-grained facial coat, and if she will be persistent she can improve the one that is so disappointing to her. She must avoid the use of hot water when washing her face, have the water just warm enough to form a suds. Friction is a help in skin toning and refining, so when rinsing away the suds she should use the palms of her hands, dashing the cold water first on her chin, working up over her forehead. A first-class face washing can be a pretty fair facial treatment. When drying the face, wrap the towel around the hands and do that same upward slapping.

Beauty and the Bath

Have you ever noticed that food becomes much more interesting the minute you've barred yourself from snacking?

From the minute the clock struck 8:00 last night, I could think of nothing but the snacks I'd like to be eating. (Even though there are probably many nights when I'm not snacking at that hour!) And with a kitchen full of new groceries, there was plenty to tempt the palate. I ended up turning in early just to banish those awful cravings. Well, wouldn't you know, I managed to survive the night. For years, I've indulged every whim when it comes to eating, so to put even the slightest of boundaries on food feels harsh and twisting --- but I'm sure that feeling won't last forever.

I survived my walks as well. 35 minutes - that's three laps 'round the track at the park - on both Saturday and Sunday. I'm glad I broke out the baseball cap, because it was already a sunny 89 degrees by the time I got to the park this morning. I may give some thought to walking on the weekend before I eat my breakfast and do my morning chores. Maybe even before I shower for the day...

This evening's 1945 dinner menu:

Browned Potatoes
Asparagus Salad
Enriched Bread
Fresh Fruit Cup, Three

My first decision as I prepared to begin washing my face in the mornings? Whether to do it in the shower or in the sink. This would have been a moot point for most women in the 1940s as showers were just beginning to gain in popularity. The grooming routine does recommend that the face be washed in the evening after taking a bath. With that in mind - and in order to give my face the attention it deserves - I decided to wash my face in the sink after my morning shower. Besides, the skin's already been steamed. The pores are open. It should be an ideal time for cleansing. Next, I had to decide on a soap. I've been using a bar of Ivory soap scented with lavender in the shower. But my face has always been sensitive to fragranced things, so it was off to the drugstore to hunt up something mild and fragrance free. What a disappointment not to see almost any of the brands I'd been admiring in vintage magazines! No Lux, no Woodbury's, no Palmolive (at least not in the face soap aisle!) --- I ended up taking home some unscented Ivory.

The soap and water does make my face feel clean, but it also feels a little taut. I can't tell yet whether that's the soap itself or the toning effect of the cold water splashed on at the end. Judging from the articles in magazines and newspapers of the period, women in the '40s were also concerned then about the drying effect of soap. Beauty experts seem to have universally advised the daily use of cold cream to re-moisten the skin, but soap was still deemed the best cleanser available: "Nothing can cleanse the skin so satisfactorily as soap and water, leaving the face fresh and glowing." A warm water rinse was essential, though, as cold water wasn't thought to thoroughly remove soap residue. Check out this darling article I found in the women's column of the April 18, 1943 edition of the St. Petersburg Times:

Beauty and the Bath
by Betty Clarke

Dear Housewives:

There's no excuse girls for looking fagged out and weary when papa comes home from work! It's just as much your duty to give his eyes something to feast on as it is to have his dinner on the table.

Even though time seems to be on your rationed list now that you're cook, cleaning woman, laundress, and gardener yourself, you still must sandwich in a few minutes for nothing but beauty...

[The author goes on to extol all the merits of a late afternoon bath.]

While you're running the tub, you can do so much. First be sure to tuck your curls high on your head or they will get wet and stringy. Then take care of your complexion by lathering your face with a deep pore-cleansing soap delicately scented with lavender. The next step is skin lubrication - smooth on a night cream generously and let it soak in as you soak in the tub...

And now back to your face. Remove every speck of cream that hasn't been absorbed and dash on a refreshing skin lotion. Then, your make-up.

Do you remember last winter when I realized that I really ought to start wearing a bathrobe and slippers around my apartment in the morning? That streaking about in my nightclothes probably wasn't very vintage-minded? That's been a hard habit to break. Until yesterday. As I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off, ran a brush through my hair --- I found myself reaching for a bathrobe. I didn't want to stand there over the sink washing my hair and trying to keep a towel wrapped around me at the same time. I guess when you spend even a few extra minutes tending to yourself in the morning, that robe or housecoat really comes in handy.