Kathleen Marple Kalb's Blog, page 22
July 7, 2021
HOT SCOTS
Trendy is probably the last word you’d use to describe the Scottish.
(I can say that, since I’m one-quarter immigrant Scot myself.)
But in the 19th century, thanks to Sir Walter Scott and the overactive imagination of his most famous fan, Queen Victoria, there was a period where Scotland and particularly the Highlands, were all the rage.
Victoria and Albert bought a highland retreat, Balmoral, and proceeded to spend long summer vacations hunting, stalking and walking in the heather. The Queen even wrote a couple of bestselling books about their life in the Highlands, and Albert designed a Balmoral tartan that Royal men still wear when they’re up there.
Good thing, by the way – until the future George VI had the sense to marry an actual Scotswoman, the royals had no real right to wear any tartan, unless you count that EXTREMELY distant connection to Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots.
For many Victorians, Scotland was a thing, a just-distant-enough, just-romantic-enough escape from English or American reality. Scots, as everyone knew from the stereotypes, might have red hair, appealing accents, and very nice legs to look at in kilts – but they were also canny, hardworking and thrifty.
The Scots also seemed happy enough to be part of Britain, unlike the Irish who’d never really stopped demanding some level of autonomy. Of course, the British Government hadn’t starved a million or so of them to death in the Great Hunger, either…but that’s a different post.
So, the Scots were the safe Celts. They had all of the romantic legends, beautiful scenery, and musical accents…but none of the baggage of the Irish, who many Anglo-Saxons still considered barely human. Or at least rebellious, ungrateful and drunk.
Scots versus Irish, by the way, was still an issue as late as my grandparents’ courtship when my grandfather, who had an Irish last name, swore that he was SCOTCH-Irish – a good hardworking Protestant man! – to win over my great-grandfather.
In the late 19th century, though, it was enough to know that Scots were hot. From Queen Victoria putting Albert in a kilt (and later enjoying the company of her “Highland Servant” John Brown) to the ladies swooning over Scott’s heroes, everyone loved a Scotsman.
Victoria’s love of tartan and bagpipes was a harder sell. Many aristocrats snickered at the Balmoral décor, and cringed at the sound of Her Majesty’s piper at dinner. But middle-class Victorians, the queen’s real fans, were all in, laying down tartan rugs and cheering on their local pipe corps.
All of this is more than fun background for Ella Shane and her Duke. Gil’s mother is Scots, and he grew up with a love of his heritage…and a rebellious Highland streak. Ella, raised in an Irish family, finds some of her first common ground with him as a fellow Celt, realizing that this fine aristocrat is at least a little bit like her.
Oh, and that irresistible accent. As a Duke and a Member of the House of Lords, Gilbert St. Aubyn normally speaks standard London English. Except in angry – or intimate -- moments. Then, his natural North of England accent, similar to a Scottish burr, emerges. In my mind, Gil sounds very much like Sir Sean Connery, and I love to imagine him reading to Ella with that accent.
If you do too, feel free…good fantasies are for sharing!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
(I can say that, since I’m one-quarter immigrant Scot myself.)
But in the 19th century, thanks to Sir Walter Scott and the overactive imagination of his most famous fan, Queen Victoria, there was a period where Scotland and particularly the Highlands, were all the rage.
Victoria and Albert bought a highland retreat, Balmoral, and proceeded to spend long summer vacations hunting, stalking and walking in the heather. The Queen even wrote a couple of bestselling books about their life in the Highlands, and Albert designed a Balmoral tartan that Royal men still wear when they’re up there.
Good thing, by the way – until the future George VI had the sense to marry an actual Scotswoman, the royals had no real right to wear any tartan, unless you count that EXTREMELY distant connection to Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots.
For many Victorians, Scotland was a thing, a just-distant-enough, just-romantic-enough escape from English or American reality. Scots, as everyone knew from the stereotypes, might have red hair, appealing accents, and very nice legs to look at in kilts – but they were also canny, hardworking and thrifty.
The Scots also seemed happy enough to be part of Britain, unlike the Irish who’d never really stopped demanding some level of autonomy. Of course, the British Government hadn’t starved a million or so of them to death in the Great Hunger, either…but that’s a different post.
So, the Scots were the safe Celts. They had all of the romantic legends, beautiful scenery, and musical accents…but none of the baggage of the Irish, who many Anglo-Saxons still considered barely human. Or at least rebellious, ungrateful and drunk.
Scots versus Irish, by the way, was still an issue as late as my grandparents’ courtship when my grandfather, who had an Irish last name, swore that he was SCOTCH-Irish – a good hardworking Protestant man! – to win over my great-grandfather.
In the late 19th century, though, it was enough to know that Scots were hot. From Queen Victoria putting Albert in a kilt (and later enjoying the company of her “Highland Servant” John Brown) to the ladies swooning over Scott’s heroes, everyone loved a Scotsman.
Victoria’s love of tartan and bagpipes was a harder sell. Many aristocrats snickered at the Balmoral décor, and cringed at the sound of Her Majesty’s piper at dinner. But middle-class Victorians, the queen’s real fans, were all in, laying down tartan rugs and cheering on their local pipe corps.
All of this is more than fun background for Ella Shane and her Duke. Gil’s mother is Scots, and he grew up with a love of his heritage…and a rebellious Highland streak. Ella, raised in an Irish family, finds some of her first common ground with him as a fellow Celt, realizing that this fine aristocrat is at least a little bit like her.
Oh, and that irresistible accent. As a Duke and a Member of the House of Lords, Gilbert St. Aubyn normally speaks standard London English. Except in angry – or intimate -- moments. Then, his natural North of England accent, similar to a Scottish burr, emerges. In my mind, Gil sounds very much like Sir Sean Connery, and I love to imagine him reading to Ella with that accent.
If you do too, feel free…good fantasies are for sharing!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
July 1, 2021
MADE IN THE SHADES
Imagine summer without sunglasses.
Cute ones are a major pleasure of the season for many people (me!) and for most folks who drive or spend any length of time outdoors, they’re essential.
In the late 19th century, though, they weren’t nearly as common as they are now.
Sunglasses have existed for centuries; historians cite Nero watching gladiators through emeralds, ancient Chinese quartz lenses and even Inuit spectacles made of bone with tiny slits to cut snow glare. And they were certainly around in the Gilded Age.
Teddy Roosevelt had a pair with yellow lenses that he wore for hunting. There were also ones with green and blue lenses for people with various conditions. Usually, they were the little wire-rimmed styles we associate with the fashions of the time. Sometimes, they still show up in online auctions – and people snap them right up.
Still, they hadn’t yet caught on for ladies.
Even though Ella and her velocipede buddy Hetty could definitely benefit from a good pair of shades, they probably didn’t wear them. Sunglasses just weren’t part of the women’s sports costumes of the time. The only time you see a woman with glasses is when she’s holding an opera lorgnette.
(The old saw about men not making passes at girls in glasses came later…but might well be part of it!)
Shades didn’t really become part of the cool girl’s outfit until the 1920s, when movie stars started wearing them for protection from the California sun, and quickly discovered they were good for so much more. Soon, everyone wanted that look, and sunglasses were everywhere.
Not our 19th century ladies, though. They fended off the sun the same way that their mothers and grandmothers had: a nice big straw hat. The straw hat, sometimes with a veil, was every lady’s first and best protection from the sun.
Every lady's – and just about everyone else’s, too! Straw hats of varying descriptions appear on people from farmers to fashion plates throughout the 19th century and before. Before reliable sunscreen, and wide use of sunglasses, putting a breathable layer of straw – and maybe an extra layer of thin fabric – between you and the sun was as good as it would get.
Not to say that our ladies didn’t have a few innovations at their disposal. One fashion plate from the 1890s shows a lady cyclist wearing a hat that has a long bill like a baseball cap. It’s still a ladylike straw hat – complete with a sweet little bow – but it offers some extra protection from the glare.
Why not? If it’s good enough for the boys of summer, it’s good enough for the women on wheels.
If you weren’t on wheels, you also had another option: a parasol. In just about every fashion illustration for an outdoor costume, the lady is holding a matching one. Women of means probably did splash out for the matchy-matchy. Most ladies, though, were likely happy to have one or two, usually white or pastel, to push back the heat as well as the light.
Parasols and hats are both excellent additions to the beach bag, even today. But sorry not sorry, this is one time I’m not tempted to give up my modern conveniences. I’ll be the one under the Jackie shades!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Cute ones are a major pleasure of the season for many people (me!) and for most folks who drive or spend any length of time outdoors, they’re essential.
In the late 19th century, though, they weren’t nearly as common as they are now.
Sunglasses have existed for centuries; historians cite Nero watching gladiators through emeralds, ancient Chinese quartz lenses and even Inuit spectacles made of bone with tiny slits to cut snow glare. And they were certainly around in the Gilded Age.
Teddy Roosevelt had a pair with yellow lenses that he wore for hunting. There were also ones with green and blue lenses for people with various conditions. Usually, they were the little wire-rimmed styles we associate with the fashions of the time. Sometimes, they still show up in online auctions – and people snap them right up.
Still, they hadn’t yet caught on for ladies.
Even though Ella and her velocipede buddy Hetty could definitely benefit from a good pair of shades, they probably didn’t wear them. Sunglasses just weren’t part of the women’s sports costumes of the time. The only time you see a woman with glasses is when she’s holding an opera lorgnette.
(The old saw about men not making passes at girls in glasses came later…but might well be part of it!)
Shades didn’t really become part of the cool girl’s outfit until the 1920s, when movie stars started wearing them for protection from the California sun, and quickly discovered they were good for so much more. Soon, everyone wanted that look, and sunglasses were everywhere.
Not our 19th century ladies, though. They fended off the sun the same way that their mothers and grandmothers had: a nice big straw hat. The straw hat, sometimes with a veil, was every lady’s first and best protection from the sun.
Every lady's – and just about everyone else’s, too! Straw hats of varying descriptions appear on people from farmers to fashion plates throughout the 19th century and before. Before reliable sunscreen, and wide use of sunglasses, putting a breathable layer of straw – and maybe an extra layer of thin fabric – between you and the sun was as good as it would get.
Not to say that our ladies didn’t have a few innovations at their disposal. One fashion plate from the 1890s shows a lady cyclist wearing a hat that has a long bill like a baseball cap. It’s still a ladylike straw hat – complete with a sweet little bow – but it offers some extra protection from the glare.
Why not? If it’s good enough for the boys of summer, it’s good enough for the women on wheels.
If you weren’t on wheels, you also had another option: a parasol. In just about every fashion illustration for an outdoor costume, the lady is holding a matching one. Women of means probably did splash out for the matchy-matchy. Most ladies, though, were likely happy to have one or two, usually white or pastel, to push back the heat as well as the light.
Parasols and hats are both excellent additions to the beach bag, even today. But sorry not sorry, this is one time I’m not tempted to give up my modern conveniences. I’ll be the one under the Jackie shades!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
June 24, 2021
...AND LADIES OF THE CHORUS
When the late Prince Philip reportedly observed that it’s a different world now, and some aristocrats are marrying chorus girls, some considered that a remarkably snobbish comment. It may have been. It was also the simple acknowledgement of a fact that began in the late 19th century, when a very specific kind of chorus girl began making her way into the aristocracy.
Just as some impoverished aristocrats started marrying American “Dollar Princesses,” when the strict standards for an appropriate match began to loosen, so did other aristocrats start taking a closer look at young ladies on the stage.
Not just any young ladies, though.
It started in the 1890s with the “Gaiety Girls” in Britain, polite, elegant and of course beautiful young performers in musical comedies at (where else?) the Gaiety Theatre. The ladies were the epitome of “pretty is as pretty does,” well-chaperoned and graceful, and the gents lined up to meet them. Many “married well,” as the expression goes, with more than one snaring an Earl.
Soon enough, the idea crossed the pond, and the featured members of Broadway’s famous Floradora Sextette had all the attention they could handle. Once again, they were lovely, well-behaved young ladies, impeccably chaperoned and of course virtuous. Rumor had it that every member of the original sextette married a millionaire, and true or not, the story of the sweet chorus girl who makes a good match was embedded in the culture.
It’s not, after all, a very long leap from that Floradora Girl to the cheerful gold-diggers of the flapper era – or many of the characters Marilyn Monroe played. Marilyn’s outfits are more fun, but the idea of the girl who makes the best deal with what she’s got was a well-established tradition by the time she blazed onto the screen.
While Ella Shane would admire Marilyn Monroe as an underrated artist, she doesn’t have much appreciation for the chorus girls of her time. After all, Ella’s fighting – sometimes literally – to be considered “a lady and an artist,” and those little darlings at the Gaiety or the Floradora show just waltz in and take all the cookies.
Ella expects anyone who wants to be taken seriously as a professional performer to do the work, and she doesn’t have much respect for the light singing and dancing required of the Gaiety girls especially. What she misses – but a modern observer doesn’t – is that the minimal effort is part of the point.
Someone like Ella, a magnificently talented, highly trained artist, would not be nearly as appealing and approachable to a certain kind of man as one of those pretty lightweights. Ella, even without a sword in hand, is a little scary for some men. Not so the Floradora girls, who are pretty and modestly accomplished. They’re a much more comfortable companion for the powerful men of the time, who want a woman who they can show off – but who won’t show them up.
Well, most powerful men of the time. There’s one particular British aristocrat who very much likes being challenged by Ella…and isn’t afraid of her, either. Though he is a little scared about what he might have to do to win her. No spoilers on how that turns out!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
Just as some impoverished aristocrats started marrying American “Dollar Princesses,” when the strict standards for an appropriate match began to loosen, so did other aristocrats start taking a closer look at young ladies on the stage.
Not just any young ladies, though.
It started in the 1890s with the “Gaiety Girls” in Britain, polite, elegant and of course beautiful young performers in musical comedies at (where else?) the Gaiety Theatre. The ladies were the epitome of “pretty is as pretty does,” well-chaperoned and graceful, and the gents lined up to meet them. Many “married well,” as the expression goes, with more than one snaring an Earl.
Soon enough, the idea crossed the pond, and the featured members of Broadway’s famous Floradora Sextette had all the attention they could handle. Once again, they were lovely, well-behaved young ladies, impeccably chaperoned and of course virtuous. Rumor had it that every member of the original sextette married a millionaire, and true or not, the story of the sweet chorus girl who makes a good match was embedded in the culture.
It’s not, after all, a very long leap from that Floradora Girl to the cheerful gold-diggers of the flapper era – or many of the characters Marilyn Monroe played. Marilyn’s outfits are more fun, but the idea of the girl who makes the best deal with what she’s got was a well-established tradition by the time she blazed onto the screen.
While Ella Shane would admire Marilyn Monroe as an underrated artist, she doesn’t have much appreciation for the chorus girls of her time. After all, Ella’s fighting – sometimes literally – to be considered “a lady and an artist,” and those little darlings at the Gaiety or the Floradora show just waltz in and take all the cookies.
Ella expects anyone who wants to be taken seriously as a professional performer to do the work, and she doesn’t have much respect for the light singing and dancing required of the Gaiety girls especially. What she misses – but a modern observer doesn’t – is that the minimal effort is part of the point.
Someone like Ella, a magnificently talented, highly trained artist, would not be nearly as appealing and approachable to a certain kind of man as one of those pretty lightweights. Ella, even without a sword in hand, is a little scary for some men. Not so the Floradora girls, who are pretty and modestly accomplished. They’re a much more comfortable companion for the powerful men of the time, who want a woman who they can show off – but who won’t show them up.
Well, most powerful men of the time. There’s one particular British aristocrat who very much likes being challenged by Ella…and isn’t afraid of her, either. Though he is a little scared about what he might have to do to win her. No spoilers on how that turns out!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
June 17, 2021
I SHAVED MY LEGS FOR THIS?
It’s my favorite country song title – and one thing a 19th century woman would never have to say!
But, that doesn’t mean that women didn’t resort to all kinds of creative, and potentially dangerous, ways to get rid of excess hair that WAS visible.
In the days of floor-length skirts and stockings, it didn’t matter in the least if a woman had hairy legs, and honestly, most of the fellas probably didn’t know to notice. Western men who traveled to parts of the world where women were a lot more into depilating did sometimes write about how amazingly smooth the local limbs were…but they would definitely NOT expect their ladies to take up the fashion.
We can also dispense with any thoughts of the bikini wax. That particular variety of personal landscaping didn’t even show up on the map until the mid-20th century. Some folks probably did neaten up the downstairs a little in the Victorian Era, but they sure didn’t talk about it.
No, if women were worrying about hair, they were probably worried about hair somewhere on their face, whether it was overly energetic eyebrows, a bit of peach fuzz, or a more serious mustache situation. But whatever it was, they probably weren’t shaving it.
There’s a reason they called ‘em cut-throat razors back then. Most men used – or paid a barber to use – one of those big scary blades. Safety razors had been invented…but it wasn’t until the Gillette disposable hit the market in 1903 that they became popular. So if the missus wanted to address her mustache with a razor, she’d have to borrow a blade.
Probably not.
Which leads us to all kinds of depilatories. This could be anything from a relatively mild abrasive – to something used in a tanning factory. Women could be, and sometimes were, injured and disfigured for life by some of these preparations. And since it was before any serious safety regulations, they were just out of luck.
If you think that’s scary, how about radiation? No kidding. In the late 19th century, some doctors did X-ray hair removal. Eventually, the doctors decided it was too dangerous for them, but it continued in some private salons well into the 20th century.
Early electrolysis was also available, and almost as risky as those tanning products. Long before the modern understanding of electricity, this wasn’t a much better bet than any of the others. But – this one did get safer with time. Fun fact: a lot of Golden Age movie stars got their perfect hairlines thanks to state-of-the-art electrolysis. Rita Hayworth was NOT born with that widow’s peak!
But back to our 19th century lady glaring at her little mustache. She’s down to two of the things we still rely on today: wax and tweezers. If you control the temperature with wax, you’re not going to do much damage, even if it hurts to rip out the hair. Tweezers take time, but they work, even if they’re fussy and just as painful. Still a small thing compared to permanent disfigurement.
So yes, while we may sometimes question if something – or someone – is worth shaving for, it’s still a vast improvement over what Great-Grandma had!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
But, that doesn’t mean that women didn’t resort to all kinds of creative, and potentially dangerous, ways to get rid of excess hair that WAS visible.
In the days of floor-length skirts and stockings, it didn’t matter in the least if a woman had hairy legs, and honestly, most of the fellas probably didn’t know to notice. Western men who traveled to parts of the world where women were a lot more into depilating did sometimes write about how amazingly smooth the local limbs were…but they would definitely NOT expect their ladies to take up the fashion.
We can also dispense with any thoughts of the bikini wax. That particular variety of personal landscaping didn’t even show up on the map until the mid-20th century. Some folks probably did neaten up the downstairs a little in the Victorian Era, but they sure didn’t talk about it.
No, if women were worrying about hair, they were probably worried about hair somewhere on their face, whether it was overly energetic eyebrows, a bit of peach fuzz, or a more serious mustache situation. But whatever it was, they probably weren’t shaving it.
There’s a reason they called ‘em cut-throat razors back then. Most men used – or paid a barber to use – one of those big scary blades. Safety razors had been invented…but it wasn’t until the Gillette disposable hit the market in 1903 that they became popular. So if the missus wanted to address her mustache with a razor, she’d have to borrow a blade.
Probably not.
Which leads us to all kinds of depilatories. This could be anything from a relatively mild abrasive – to something used in a tanning factory. Women could be, and sometimes were, injured and disfigured for life by some of these preparations. And since it was before any serious safety regulations, they were just out of luck.
If you think that’s scary, how about radiation? No kidding. In the late 19th century, some doctors did X-ray hair removal. Eventually, the doctors decided it was too dangerous for them, but it continued in some private salons well into the 20th century.
Early electrolysis was also available, and almost as risky as those tanning products. Long before the modern understanding of electricity, this wasn’t a much better bet than any of the others. But – this one did get safer with time. Fun fact: a lot of Golden Age movie stars got their perfect hairlines thanks to state-of-the-art electrolysis. Rita Hayworth was NOT born with that widow’s peak!
But back to our 19th century lady glaring at her little mustache. She’s down to two of the things we still rely on today: wax and tweezers. If you control the temperature with wax, you’re not going to do much damage, even if it hurts to rip out the hair. Tweezers take time, but they work, even if they’re fussy and just as painful. Still a small thing compared to permanent disfigurement.
So yes, while we may sometimes question if something – or someone – is worth shaving for, it’s still a vast improvement over what Great-Grandma had!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
I SHAVED MY LEGS FOR THIS?
It’s my favorite country song title – and one thing a 19th century woman would never have to say!
But, that doesn’t mean that women didn’t resort to all kinds of creative, and potentially dangerous, ways to get rid of excess hair that WAS visible.
In the days of floor-length skirts and stockings, it didn’t matter in the least if a woman had hairy legs, and honestly, most of the fellas probably didn’t know to notice. Western men who traveled to parts of the world where women were a lot more into depilating did sometimes write about how amazingly smooth the local limbs were…but they would definitely NOT expect their ladies to take up the fashion.
We can also dispense with any thoughts of the bikini wax. That particular variety of personal landscaping didn’t even show up on the map until the mid-20th century. Some folks probably did neaten up the downstairs a little in the Victorian Era, but they sure didn’t talk about it.
No, if women were worrying about hair, they were probably worried about hair somewhere on their face, whether it was overly energetic eyebrows, a bit of peach fuzz, or a more serious mustache situation. But whatever it was, they probably weren’t shaving it.
There’s a reason they called ‘em cut-throat razors back then. Most men used – or paid a barber to use – one of those big scary blades. Safety razors had been invented…but it wasn’t until the Gillette disposable hit the market in 1903 that they became popular. So if the missus wanted to address her mustache with a razor, she’d have to borrow a blade.
Probably not.
Which leads us to all kinds of depilatories. This could be anything from a relatively mild abrasive – to something used in a tanning factory. Women could be, and sometimes were, injured and disfigured for life by some of these preparations. And since it was before any serious safety regulations, they were just out of luck.
If you think that’s scary, how about radiation? No kidding. In the late 19th century, some doctors did X-ray hair removal. Eventually, the doctors decided it was too dangerous for them, but it continued in some private salons well into the 20th century.
Early electrolysis was also available, and almost as risky as those tanning products. Long before the modern understanding of electricity, this wasn’t a much better bet than any of the others. But – this one did get safer with time. Fun fact: a lot of Golden Age movie stars got their perfect hairlines thanks to state-of-the-art electrolysis. Rita Hayworth was NOT born with that widow’s peak!
But back to our 19th century lady glaring at her little mustache. She’s down to two of the things we still rely on today: wax and tweezers. If you control the temperature with wax, you’re not going to do much damage, even if it hurts to rip out the hair. Tweezers take time, but they work, even if they’re fussy and just as painful. Still a small thing compared to permanent disfigurement.
So yes, while we may sometimes question if something – or someone – is worth shaving for, it’s still a vast improvement over what Great-Grandma had!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
But, that doesn’t mean that women didn’t resort to all kinds of creative, and potentially dangerous, ways to get rid of excess hair that WAS visible.
In the days of floor-length skirts and stockings, it didn’t matter in the least if a woman had hairy legs, and honestly, most of the fellas probably didn’t know to notice. Western men who traveled to parts of the world where women were a lot more into depilating did sometimes write about how amazingly smooth the local limbs were…but they would definitely NOT expect their ladies to take up the fashion.
We can also dispense with any thoughts of the bikini wax. That particular variety of personal landscaping didn’t even show up on the map until the mid-20th century. Some folks probably did neaten up the downstairs a little in the Victorian Era, but they sure didn’t talk about it.
No, if women were worrying about hair, they were probably worried about hair somewhere on their face, whether it was overly energetic eyebrows, a bit of peach fuzz, or a more serious mustache situation. But whatever it was, they probably weren’t shaving it.
There’s a reason they called ‘em cut-throat razors back then. Most men used – or paid a barber to use – one of those big scary blades. Safety razors had been invented…but it wasn’t until the Gillette disposable hit the market in 1903 that they became popular. So if the missus wanted to address her mustache with a razor, she’d have to borrow a blade.
Probably not.
Which leads us to all kinds of depilatories. This could be anything from a relatively mild abrasive – to something used in a tanning factory. Women could be, and sometimes were, injured and disfigured for life by some of these preparations. And since it was before any serious safety regulations, they were just out of luck.
If you think that’s scary, how about radiation? No kidding. In the late 19th century, some doctors did X-ray hair removal. Eventually, the doctors decided it was too dangerous for them, but it continued in some private salons well into the 20th century.
Early electrolysis was also available, and almost as risky as those tanning products. Long before the modern understanding of electricity, this wasn’t a much better bet than any of the others. But – this one did get safer with time. Fun fact: a lot of Golden Age movie stars got their perfect hairlines thanks to state-of-the-art electrolysis. Rita Hayworth was NOT born with that widow’s peak!
But back to our 19th century lady glaring at her little mustache. She’s down to two of the things we still rely on today: wax and tweezers. If you control the temperature with wax, you’re not going to do much damage, even if it hurts to rip out the hair. Tweezers take time, but they work, even if they’re fussy and just as painful. Still a small thing compared to permanent disfigurement.
So yes, while we may sometimes question if something – or someone – is worth shaving for, it’s still a vast improvement over what Great-Grandma had!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
June 10, 2021
NOT THE MARRYING KIND
NOT THE MARRYING KIND
They didn’t have out and proud in 1899, but they certainly had gay people.
Probably not a revelation, but definitely a good place to start when we’re talking about Ella Shane’s cousin Tommy Hurley, one of my favorite characters for a bunch of reasons.
He’s a smart businessman, a standup guy, an avid history buff, and a devout Catholic. He’s also “not the marrying kind,” which is how Ella describes him. Close family and friends would know exactly what that meant.
And, since Tommy’s a former boxing champ, anyone who wasn’t close enough to trust with the truth would not ask too many questions. Tommy has a good bit more space to live his life than many gay people did, thanks to the very prejudices that built the closet.
A boxing champion, a big, sturdy handsome fellow, could not possibly be a “sissy,” which was one of the less offensive descriptions of a gay man at the time. Tommy, of course, is well aware of that, since he took a fair amount of playground bullying before he got his full height and polished his right cross.
Ella, by the way, was part of his problem, and his staunchest defender. His kindness to his little orphan cousin (as she was at the time) marked him as “soft” to the tenement bullies, and may have sparked their suspicions. Ella knew it, and threw in on his side anytime she could.
For the adult Tommy, though, life is a lot easier.
And that boxing trophy is a big part of it. The stereotypes of the time mean a fighter is the manliest of the manly. It would be very difficult for anyone to wrap their brain around the idea of him as anything else.
Not just in 1899, either. Part of my inspiration for handling Tommy’s orientation came from an old episode of “All in the Family.” A friend of Archie Bunker’s, played by a very virile Philip Carey, comes out to him…and Archie doesn’t believe it. He can’t process the idea that a “real man” could be gay.
Offensive stereotype for sure, but an opening for a person hoping to live some version of their truth in a closeted time. Tommy takes that opening and builds a life with it.
People assume that he lives with Ella because she needs him to run her business. (Yep, more stereotypes!) Nobody’s especially bothered by his close friendships with other men, either. Remember, in the 1800s, it wasn’t unusual for men or women to have intense same-sex friendships that they experienced and discussed in terms we would consider almost romantic.
Those friendships, by the way, are exactly that, most of the time. Tommy’s best friend, Father Michael Riley, is emotionally closer to him than anyone – including Ella. But there’s nothing else going on; as observant Catholics, neither Tommy nor Father Michael would even consider the possibility that there could be. As far as Tommy’s concerned, Father Michael’s heart belongs to God. Full stop.
But, things are a little different with Cabot Bridgewater. The patrician uncle of one of Ella’s stage-door johnnies, he shares Tommy and Ella’s interests in books, baseball and making the world a better place. Cabot, who’s never been married and has none of the usual nasty habits of rich single men, has been hanging around Washington Square a lot lately. We may be seeing more of him…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
They didn’t have out and proud in 1899, but they certainly had gay people.
Probably not a revelation, but definitely a good place to start when we’re talking about Ella Shane’s cousin Tommy Hurley, one of my favorite characters for a bunch of reasons.
He’s a smart businessman, a standup guy, an avid history buff, and a devout Catholic. He’s also “not the marrying kind,” which is how Ella describes him. Close family and friends would know exactly what that meant.
And, since Tommy’s a former boxing champ, anyone who wasn’t close enough to trust with the truth would not ask too many questions. Tommy has a good bit more space to live his life than many gay people did, thanks to the very prejudices that built the closet.
A boxing champion, a big, sturdy handsome fellow, could not possibly be a “sissy,” which was one of the less offensive descriptions of a gay man at the time. Tommy, of course, is well aware of that, since he took a fair amount of playground bullying before he got his full height and polished his right cross.
Ella, by the way, was part of his problem, and his staunchest defender. His kindness to his little orphan cousin (as she was at the time) marked him as “soft” to the tenement bullies, and may have sparked their suspicions. Ella knew it, and threw in on his side anytime she could.
For the adult Tommy, though, life is a lot easier.
And that boxing trophy is a big part of it. The stereotypes of the time mean a fighter is the manliest of the manly. It would be very difficult for anyone to wrap their brain around the idea of him as anything else.
Not just in 1899, either. Part of my inspiration for handling Tommy’s orientation came from an old episode of “All in the Family.” A friend of Archie Bunker’s, played by a very virile Philip Carey, comes out to him…and Archie doesn’t believe it. He can’t process the idea that a “real man” could be gay.
Offensive stereotype for sure, but an opening for a person hoping to live some version of their truth in a closeted time. Tommy takes that opening and builds a life with it.
People assume that he lives with Ella because she needs him to run her business. (Yep, more stereotypes!) Nobody’s especially bothered by his close friendships with other men, either. Remember, in the 1800s, it wasn’t unusual for men or women to have intense same-sex friendships that they experienced and discussed in terms we would consider almost romantic.
Those friendships, by the way, are exactly that, most of the time. Tommy’s best friend, Father Michael Riley, is emotionally closer to him than anyone – including Ella. But there’s nothing else going on; as observant Catholics, neither Tommy nor Father Michael would even consider the possibility that there could be. As far as Tommy’s concerned, Father Michael’s heart belongs to God. Full stop.
But, things are a little different with Cabot Bridgewater. The patrician uncle of one of Ella’s stage-door johnnies, he shares Tommy and Ella’s interests in books, baseball and making the world a better place. Cabot, who’s never been married and has none of the usual nasty habits of rich single men, has been hanging around Washington Square a lot lately. We may be seeing more of him…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
June 3, 2021
(ALMOST) EVERYONE LOVES A PRETTY HAT
Late-1890s outfits are almost impressively NOT crazy, by the standards of what came before and after. No huge bustles like the 1880s…no painful S-bend corseting like the early 1900s…and no insanely large hats, as the 1910s would bring. But hats were still quite a thing!
Reporter Hetty MacNaughten may not enjoy writing about it, but a lot of ink and energy was spilled on millinery at the time, and her editor was probably right to insist on regular articles about the latest hat trends. Women spent what seems to us like a truly insane amount of time on their wardrobes and accessories, so they would have happily snapped up Hetty’s latest articles.
And, even though Hetty considers it well beneath her journalistic dignity, there was actually a lot going on with women’s hats. Some of it, of course, is just the desire to follow the current fashion and wear something that looks nice.
But, in copy on hats, as with most other things at the time, there’s often the description of “correct” styles. That’s not just an extra word. In an era full of immigrants and poor people on their way up the social ladder, whether through education or entrepreneurship, “correct,” or “appropriate” looks are a key piece of that mobility.
A lady dresses the part.
So women studied those articles about fashionable hat shapes and appropriate trimmings with considerable intensity. No one wanted to walk into a room and stand out as someone who didn’t know what the fashion was – or what was correct. They didn’t call them mean girls then, but there were plenty of female gatekeepers ready to slam the door on anyone who didn’t meet their standards.
Worse, a woman’s style and behavior reflected on her men. A man who is “making something of himself” needs a woman at his side to match. All of those melodrama plots about men who leave unsuitable women behind one way or another (often murderously!) carry a grain of truth.
But back to hats! The styles of the late 1890s had another big social twist: they were the very early beginnings of the menswear trend. The straw boaters that Hetty and Ella wear for cycling are just about indistinguishable from a man’s. They might be a little smaller – or not, considering that the ladies need room for their hair and men don’t.
More, by 1899, those boaters are coming off the bicycle and onto the beach, and even the sidewalk – often without so much as a bit of extra trim. Women had borrowed styles from men before, of course, but the difference is that this time, they don’t feel the need to girl up the hats.
Though sometimes they do – and often for practical reasons. Another key summer accessory in the time before sunscreen was the veil. A lady might add a veil to just about any hat in hot weather, to provide a little extra protection from sun damage.
Still – even with a veil, a boater is still very clearly a masculine style.
And so, with apologies to Miss MacNaughten of The Beacon, hats were actually a pretty serious topic!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Reporter Hetty MacNaughten may not enjoy writing about it, but a lot of ink and energy was spilled on millinery at the time, and her editor was probably right to insist on regular articles about the latest hat trends. Women spent what seems to us like a truly insane amount of time on their wardrobes and accessories, so they would have happily snapped up Hetty’s latest articles.
And, even though Hetty considers it well beneath her journalistic dignity, there was actually a lot going on with women’s hats. Some of it, of course, is just the desire to follow the current fashion and wear something that looks nice.
But, in copy on hats, as with most other things at the time, there’s often the description of “correct” styles. That’s not just an extra word. In an era full of immigrants and poor people on their way up the social ladder, whether through education or entrepreneurship, “correct,” or “appropriate” looks are a key piece of that mobility.
A lady dresses the part.
So women studied those articles about fashionable hat shapes and appropriate trimmings with considerable intensity. No one wanted to walk into a room and stand out as someone who didn’t know what the fashion was – or what was correct. They didn’t call them mean girls then, but there were plenty of female gatekeepers ready to slam the door on anyone who didn’t meet their standards.
Worse, a woman’s style and behavior reflected on her men. A man who is “making something of himself” needs a woman at his side to match. All of those melodrama plots about men who leave unsuitable women behind one way or another (often murderously!) carry a grain of truth.
But back to hats! The styles of the late 1890s had another big social twist: they were the very early beginnings of the menswear trend. The straw boaters that Hetty and Ella wear for cycling are just about indistinguishable from a man’s. They might be a little smaller – or not, considering that the ladies need room for their hair and men don’t.
More, by 1899, those boaters are coming off the bicycle and onto the beach, and even the sidewalk – often without so much as a bit of extra trim. Women had borrowed styles from men before, of course, but the difference is that this time, they don’t feel the need to girl up the hats.
Though sometimes they do – and often for practical reasons. Another key summer accessory in the time before sunscreen was the veil. A lady might add a veil to just about any hat in hot weather, to provide a little extra protection from sun damage.
Still – even with a veil, a boater is still very clearly a masculine style.
And so, with apologies to Miss MacNaughten of The Beacon, hats were actually a pretty serious topic!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
May 27, 2021
DON'T MESS WITH MAMA
Fight like a mother.
You’ve probably seen the t-shirts – and may even own one. (Mine says “Tough Like A Mother.”)
The idea of the feisty mama fighting for her family wasn’t even a gleam in Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s eye in the 19th century…but even then, a mother was allowed to do otherwise unacceptable things to protect her children.
In a time when women and their children were the legal property of their men, there was only one scenario when a woman was allowed – and sometimes even encouraged – to exercise real economic or social power: as a widowed mother. As the protector of her children, a woman might be allowed to run her, and their, affairs in ways that she would never be permitted to when a man was around.
Not that she wasn’t still on a leash. Usually, there was some male relative floating around to “watch over” mom, because she was still a woman, after all.
Even so, motherhood was one of the few areas where a 19th century woman got the benefit of the doubt. She was assumed to be acting in the interests of her children, unless she proved herself to be an “unnatural mother” in some way, which usually required a good bit of effort.
Motherhood didn’t just confer economic strength, either.
Sometimes it meant superhuman strength in a more literal way.
Women were allowed to step away from the hearth for a bit and protect their children more directly if there was a serious threat. Sensational, and much enjoyed, stories of brave pioneer women who scared off grizzly bears, colonial goodwives who saved their crops from the Redcoats, or just a lady who pulled her toddler out of the path of a runaway grocery wagon, were all a far cry from the Angel in the House.
But they all ended the same way. Mama plays the heroine and wards off the threat…and then hugs her cherubs, picks up her embroidery and returns to her spot by the fire. People – especially male people – were just barely comfortable with the idea that a woman might occasionally have to do something un-womanly in the defense of her family…but not with the idea that she would make a regular thing of it.
They didn’t call her the Avenging Angel in the House, after all!
No, they called her “Mother, Queen of Home.” That’s a real 19th century song, with a hearts-and-flowers picture of a lovely woman cuddling an infant and two more adorable (clean and non-cranky, too!) children clustering adoringly about her. The Queen of Home might take up arms to defend her castle, but no one’s going to talk about that unless they have to!
Still, women were very well aware of who and what they were; more than a few referred to themselves as lionesses defending their cubs when they had to take some action on their children’s behalf. But they also knew that they’d have a much better chance of ensuring happy lives for themselves – and their children – by playing the Queen of Home right up to the moment the lioness had to take over.
Tough like a mother, indeed!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
You’ve probably seen the t-shirts – and may even own one. (Mine says “Tough Like A Mother.”)
The idea of the feisty mama fighting for her family wasn’t even a gleam in Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s eye in the 19th century…but even then, a mother was allowed to do otherwise unacceptable things to protect her children.
In a time when women and their children were the legal property of their men, there was only one scenario when a woman was allowed – and sometimes even encouraged – to exercise real economic or social power: as a widowed mother. As the protector of her children, a woman might be allowed to run her, and their, affairs in ways that she would never be permitted to when a man was around.
Not that she wasn’t still on a leash. Usually, there was some male relative floating around to “watch over” mom, because she was still a woman, after all.
Even so, motherhood was one of the few areas where a 19th century woman got the benefit of the doubt. She was assumed to be acting in the interests of her children, unless she proved herself to be an “unnatural mother” in some way, which usually required a good bit of effort.
Motherhood didn’t just confer economic strength, either.
Sometimes it meant superhuman strength in a more literal way.
Women were allowed to step away from the hearth for a bit and protect their children more directly if there was a serious threat. Sensational, and much enjoyed, stories of brave pioneer women who scared off grizzly bears, colonial goodwives who saved their crops from the Redcoats, or just a lady who pulled her toddler out of the path of a runaway grocery wagon, were all a far cry from the Angel in the House.
But they all ended the same way. Mama plays the heroine and wards off the threat…and then hugs her cherubs, picks up her embroidery and returns to her spot by the fire. People – especially male people – were just barely comfortable with the idea that a woman might occasionally have to do something un-womanly in the defense of her family…but not with the idea that she would make a regular thing of it.
They didn’t call her the Avenging Angel in the House, after all!
No, they called her “Mother, Queen of Home.” That’s a real 19th century song, with a hearts-and-flowers picture of a lovely woman cuddling an infant and two more adorable (clean and non-cranky, too!) children clustering adoringly about her. The Queen of Home might take up arms to defend her castle, but no one’s going to talk about that unless they have to!
Still, women were very well aware of who and what they were; more than a few referred to themselves as lionesses defending their cubs when they had to take some action on their children’s behalf. But they also knew that they’d have a much better chance of ensuring happy lives for themselves – and their children – by playing the Queen of Home right up to the moment the lioness had to take over.
Tough like a mother, indeed!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
May 20, 2021
FRIENDS SAVE YOU EVERY TIME
I wouldn’t be here without my friends.
How often have you said, or thought, that in the last year?
As important as friendships are to us now, in the 19th century and earlier, they were sometimes the single most important factor in whether a woman had a manageable life, or unending misery.
From the colonial period, women cultivated relationships with their neighbors, extended family, or church connections, not just to have somebody to talk to, but to share work and resources. In the days before washing machines, vacuum cleaners (and helpful husbands), it took a staggering amount of physical labor simply to maintain a clean, decent home.
Often women had servants to help, but just as often, they had the daughter of a friend who was learning to run her own household one day. For really big tasks, neighbors and friends might work together. Monday became infamous as laundry day for several reasons, but one was simple: if everyone is working on the same task, they can help each other.
Women didn’t just share work – they shared food and other resources too. Ethel “borrowing” a cup of sugar from Lucy is just the echo of something that had been happening from the first time two Pilgrim families built cabins close by.
That same network of friendships enabled women to survive in the tenements; they would help watch each other’s children, share what little they had with a friend in need, and rally around a neighbor when some disaster struck. A woman with a strong network of friends, and often family, had a much safer and happier life than someone who had no one.
So, women prized their friends.
Ella Shane is no different. She’s well aware that the only reason her mother survived as long as she did in the tenements was the network of friends and neighbors…so she has a strong incentive to make and keep good women friends.
But it’s much more than that.
Ella has deep bonds with her closest friends because they’re going through many of the same experiences as women testing the limits of their time. Her singing partner, Marie de l’Artois, has found a way to combine a career and a family, something that was almost impossible then. But Marie has what she needs to make it happen: an extraordinary talent, an understanding husband…and accepting employers, like Ella’s opera company.
As close as Ella and Marie are, she probably has more in common with her other close friend – Hetty MacNaughten. As one of two female reporters on her newspaper, The Beacon, Hetty is facing an even tougher professional challenge than Ella and Marie. Everyone at least acknowledges that women are needed to sing their roles. Nobody acknowledges the need for a woman reporter.
More, unlike Marie, who is somewhat insulated by her private life as Mrs. Paul Winslow, Hetty is right out on the front lines of the New Woman’s world. So is Ella. When Ella and Hetty take off for velocipede rides or walks in the park, they often talk about their work and the challenge of being a woman doing a “man’s job.”
Just as the tenement women help each other any way they can, so do Ella, Hetty and Marie. Because whether you’re a colonial goodwife, New Woman…or 21st century girlboss, you aren’t going to get very far without your friends.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
How often have you said, or thought, that in the last year?
As important as friendships are to us now, in the 19th century and earlier, they were sometimes the single most important factor in whether a woman had a manageable life, or unending misery.
From the colonial period, women cultivated relationships with their neighbors, extended family, or church connections, not just to have somebody to talk to, but to share work and resources. In the days before washing machines, vacuum cleaners (and helpful husbands), it took a staggering amount of physical labor simply to maintain a clean, decent home.
Often women had servants to help, but just as often, they had the daughter of a friend who was learning to run her own household one day. For really big tasks, neighbors and friends might work together. Monday became infamous as laundry day for several reasons, but one was simple: if everyone is working on the same task, they can help each other.
Women didn’t just share work – they shared food and other resources too. Ethel “borrowing” a cup of sugar from Lucy is just the echo of something that had been happening from the first time two Pilgrim families built cabins close by.
That same network of friendships enabled women to survive in the tenements; they would help watch each other’s children, share what little they had with a friend in need, and rally around a neighbor when some disaster struck. A woman with a strong network of friends, and often family, had a much safer and happier life than someone who had no one.
So, women prized their friends.
Ella Shane is no different. She’s well aware that the only reason her mother survived as long as she did in the tenements was the network of friends and neighbors…so she has a strong incentive to make and keep good women friends.
But it’s much more than that.
Ella has deep bonds with her closest friends because they’re going through many of the same experiences as women testing the limits of their time. Her singing partner, Marie de l’Artois, has found a way to combine a career and a family, something that was almost impossible then. But Marie has what she needs to make it happen: an extraordinary talent, an understanding husband…and accepting employers, like Ella’s opera company.
As close as Ella and Marie are, she probably has more in common with her other close friend – Hetty MacNaughten. As one of two female reporters on her newspaper, The Beacon, Hetty is facing an even tougher professional challenge than Ella and Marie. Everyone at least acknowledges that women are needed to sing their roles. Nobody acknowledges the need for a woman reporter.
More, unlike Marie, who is somewhat insulated by her private life as Mrs. Paul Winslow, Hetty is right out on the front lines of the New Woman’s world. So is Ella. When Ella and Hetty take off for velocipede rides or walks in the park, they often talk about their work and the challenge of being a woman doing a “man’s job.”
Just as the tenement women help each other any way they can, so do Ella, Hetty and Marie. Because whether you’re a colonial goodwife, New Woman…or 21st century girlboss, you aren’t going to get very far without your friends.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
May 13, 2021
LET ME EAT CAKE!
Food, and especially treats, are part of the fun in cozy mysteries, and characters spend a lot of time eating, cooking or baking – and just talking and thinking about their next delicious bite. Ella Shane is no exception…but, like everything else with her, there’s a lot more to it than that.
In her earliest childhood, when she was living in a Lower East Side tenement room with her widowed mother, there was no such thing as a treat. People scraping by on piecework were grateful if they had a couple of meals a day of bread and something to put on it. And if there wasn’t enough money, they might not get that. A poor tenement kid like little Ellen O’Shaughnessy might only have tasted candy at Christmas.
Once she was living with her Aunt Ellen and bricklayer uncle, hunger was no longer a threat, but sweets were still a rare and precious luxury. As an orphan taken into a large and struggling family, she would have been more than grateful for whatever she was given. She still carries a fond memory of her first night with the family, when her cousin Tommy gave her a cookie and a little attention.
They probably would have bonded for life anyway, but that cookie – her first treat in a very long time – sure didn’t hurt.
The grown-up Ella and Tommy, sharing a Washington Square townhouse with their earnings as a successful opera singer and retired boxing champ turned theatre manager can have all the treats they want. And they do, most of the time.
Mrs. Grazich, their cook, makes sure the cookie jar is always full, penuche fudge is frequently on offer, and major and minor occasions are celebrated with an elaborate and delicious cake. She does an excellent job of taking good care of her employers, who she treats with the same concern and affection as her own, mostly-grown children.
There’s one little problem for Ella. As a singer of trouser roles, she wears breeches, or doublets and hose, onstage – and, as she’s been known to point out, “No one wants to see a Romeo who looks like Brunnhilde.”
Since even decently well-off people could eat four times a day in the late-19th century (Breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner) Ella has to be a little careful if she wants to be able to button her breeches. So, she gives up cake and most sweets during the run of a show.
Like the rest of us, what she can’t have is the one thing she wants, so Ella spends much of A FATAL FIRST NIGHT thinking – and talking – about cake. What kind of cake she likes, what she misses, what she’ll have when the run is over.
And indeed, when the show has successfully closed, and the killer caught (sorry, no spoilers!) Ella gets her hands on a great big slice of opera cake, or torte. Opera cake, "Torte de l'Opera" in the original French, was just coming into vogue at the time – first officially recorded in 1903, but likely around earlier. It’s big, extravagant and satisfying, just like a good opera: almond sponge cake, coffee cream, chocolate ganache and more.
So in the big wrapup scene, when Ella quite literally takes the cake, it’s all that she’s been dreaming of in the midst of murder and mayhem. Since the Duke is on hand, she may get more treats than she bargained for…but I’m DEFINITELY not spoiling that!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
In her earliest childhood, when she was living in a Lower East Side tenement room with her widowed mother, there was no such thing as a treat. People scraping by on piecework were grateful if they had a couple of meals a day of bread and something to put on it. And if there wasn’t enough money, they might not get that. A poor tenement kid like little Ellen O’Shaughnessy might only have tasted candy at Christmas.
Once she was living with her Aunt Ellen and bricklayer uncle, hunger was no longer a threat, but sweets were still a rare and precious luxury. As an orphan taken into a large and struggling family, she would have been more than grateful for whatever she was given. She still carries a fond memory of her first night with the family, when her cousin Tommy gave her a cookie and a little attention.
They probably would have bonded for life anyway, but that cookie – her first treat in a very long time – sure didn’t hurt.
The grown-up Ella and Tommy, sharing a Washington Square townhouse with their earnings as a successful opera singer and retired boxing champ turned theatre manager can have all the treats they want. And they do, most of the time.
Mrs. Grazich, their cook, makes sure the cookie jar is always full, penuche fudge is frequently on offer, and major and minor occasions are celebrated with an elaborate and delicious cake. She does an excellent job of taking good care of her employers, who she treats with the same concern and affection as her own, mostly-grown children.
There’s one little problem for Ella. As a singer of trouser roles, she wears breeches, or doublets and hose, onstage – and, as she’s been known to point out, “No one wants to see a Romeo who looks like Brunnhilde.”
Since even decently well-off people could eat four times a day in the late-19th century (Breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner) Ella has to be a little careful if she wants to be able to button her breeches. So, she gives up cake and most sweets during the run of a show.
Like the rest of us, what she can’t have is the one thing she wants, so Ella spends much of A FATAL FIRST NIGHT thinking – and talking – about cake. What kind of cake she likes, what she misses, what she’ll have when the run is over.
And indeed, when the show has successfully closed, and the killer caught (sorry, no spoilers!) Ella gets her hands on a great big slice of opera cake, or torte. Opera cake, "Torte de l'Opera" in the original French, was just coming into vogue at the time – first officially recorded in 1903, but likely around earlier. It’s big, extravagant and satisfying, just like a good opera: almond sponge cake, coffee cream, chocolate ganache and more.
So in the big wrapup scene, when Ella quite literally takes the cake, it’s all that she’s been dreaming of in the midst of murder and mayhem. Since the Duke is on hand, she may get more treats than she bargained for…but I’m DEFINITELY not spoiling that!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
