I loved this book! I just loved it. I didn't have my first romantic rendezvous until I was 25 and even though he is now my husband (!), I spent my high school and university years comparing myself to my peers and feeling left out. Feeling as though I was missing out on all of the relationship milestones. I wish I had read this book when I was a teenager. I think I would have fared better with Notorious H.G.B. by my side.
Even though it was written in 1962, much of its content is applicable today (and much can be discarded, which is why I didn't give it a perfect five stars.) This book is a standout because of Helen Gurley Brown's tone of voice: she is your best girlfriend, gal pal, closest confidante throughout. She just wants what you want, and will help you get it! Want to get a new man, new job, new apartment? Want to learn to cook or buy flattering clothes or wear makeup when once you wore none? Want to manage your own money? Travel? Helen will talk you through it all with a perfect mix of humor and no-nonsense attitude.
And oh boy, is she funny! Here are the snippets I wrote down to remember. R.I.P. Helen (1922-2012.)
I believe that as many women over thirty marry out of fear of being alone someday -- not necessarily now but some day -- as for love of or compatibility with a particular man. The plan seems to be to get someone while the getting's good and by the time you lose your looks he'll be too securely glued to you to get away. Isn't it silly? A man can leave a woman at fifty (though it may cost him some dough) as surely as you can leave dishes in the sink. He can leave anytime before then too, and so may you leave him when you find your football hero developing into the town drunk. Then you have it all to do over again as if you hadn't gobbled him up in girlish haste. How much saner and sweeter to mary when you have both jelled. And how much safer to marry with part of the play out of his system and yours. It takes guts. It can be lonely out there out of step with the rest of the folks. And you may not find somebody later. But since you're not finding somebody sooner as things stand, wouldn't it be better to stop driving...to stop fretting...to start recognizing what you have now?
***
Most importantly, a single woman, even if she is a file clerk, moves in the world of men. She knows their language -- the language of retailing, advertising, motion pictures, exporting, shipbuilding. Her world is a far more colorful world than the one of P.T.A., Dr. Spock and the jammed clothes dryer. A single woman never has to drudge. She can get her housework over within one good hour Saturday morning plus one other hour to iron blouses and white collars. She need never break her fingernails or her spirit waxing a playroom or cleaning out the garage.
***
I do not mean to suggest for a moment that being single is not often hell. But I do mean to suggest that it can also be quite heavenly, whether you choose it or it chooses you. There is a catch to achieving single bliss. You have to work like a son of a bitch. But show me the married woman who can loll about and eat cherry bonbons! Hourly she is told by every magazine she reads what she must do to keep her marriage from bursting at the seams. There is no peace for anybody married or single unless you do your chores. Frankly, I wouldn't want to make the choice between a married hell or a single hell. They're both hell.
***
Are you totally, horribly, hideously, irrevocably offended by this whole discussion of sex? Do you feel it is a subject better left for married girls to probe? If so, by all means skip this chapter! Or skip the whole book! It is written for girls who may not marry but who are not necessarily planning to join a nunnery.
***
Most importantly, a job gives a single woman something to be. A married woman already is something. She is the banker's wife, the gangster's wife, the wrangler's wife, the strangler's wife, the conductor's wife (streetcar or symphony.) Whatever hardships she endures in marriage, one of them is not that she doesn't have a place in life. A single woman is known by what she does rather than by whom she belongs to.
***
Finish the projects. If you don't finish them, it doesn't count! These are relatively painless projects, however, and take only low-grade will power. If you've promised your pal at the service station to bring him the picture from Life that looks like him, bring it. If you've promised yourself an entire Sunday in bed reading movie magazines and drinking hot chocolate, flake out! Make your personal life a history of started and completed projects if you want to be the kind of person a career can happen to. There is a connection.
***
As for going from company to company in search of susceptible bosses...quelle bore! You would probably do yourself more real good by staying right where you are and learning to read a statistical report. After all, girls to go to bed with he can always find. No real training is required, but where is a boss going to get a girl who can read statistical reports?
***
If you try to show off in a building or neighborhood you can't afford, you must dress, drive, entertain and live poshly; and that way lies debtor's prison! A more impressive way to impress is with what's inside -- you and the furniture! Dazzled by you both, nobody will remember they came through a slum to get to you.
***
All the recipe pages do is make it pretty clear that if you aren't stuffing a twenty-pound bird with chestnut-and-bacon dressing you are weakening the moral fiber of America. It's enough to weaken your fiber and send you out to the kitchen for another peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. The very word "entertaining" sounds kind of snooty and married -- like the Turkish ambassador's wife having seventy for sit-down dinner, the actor and actress team ladling out marguerites at a pool party. Can they really call what you do -- frozen pizza for three girl friends before a Dean Martin spectacular -- entertaining? Certainly! All you have to do to qualify as an entertainer is to cook something or pour something.
***
Pussyfooting means that on little cat feet you sneak up on one dish at a time. First you boil water, then you make Jell-O. Next you make a mousse; and one day, sing choirs of angels, you have advanced on and overtaken...Beef Stroganoff!
***
If you decide to go the health route, don't talk about it on dates. Think how cleverly Dracula concealed his vampirehood.
***
Do get dumbbells. A woman's upper arms give her age away faster than slip-ups about remembering Kay Francis in One Way Passage (not on television). Also, hoisting your dumbbells even in a stupor, makes you feel so en rapport with the rest of the world's athletes.
***
If there's nobody available, walk alone. One Labor Day weekend I walked three days in a row by myself. It sounds kind of pitiful, doesn't it, but who saw me but lizards? By Tuesday I was tummyless, lean and feeling very smug about the whole thing. A mountain climb is the greatest way to work off a rage at a man who has done something awful. Don't take him with you, of course. When you get off the trail, you just haven't the strength to hate until much later.
***
Now, I think, is the time to confess I'm just on the nervous edge of trying to increase my ten-minute exercise period for the thirtieth time in my life. There will probably be a thirty-first, thirty-second, etc. This accursed book has fallen into my hands -- How To Keep Slender and Fit after Thirty by Bonnie Prudden. Now Miss Prudden is an exerciser from way back, with the figure to prove it. And her book describes about ninety-three hundred thousand things you could do if you had a rubber body, and the stamina of King Kong. My first inclination was to write her a letter and say how ridiculous it is to expect a woman to do a fraction that much. And maybe we're turtles, but turtles have feelings too -- and don't like to be criticized for hating "bicycles."
***
Ocasionally a man you truly adore has a clothes preference, and you must humor him, of course. My husband is a fiend for slinky black...wants it worn winter or summer, day or night. I remember one hot August afternoon when we were first dating, he said, "Get into something slinky black. We're going over to meet my friends Jackie and Ernest." Naturally I wanted Jackie and Ernest to like me, so I got right into something slinky and black. Well, everybody was out by the pool in wet swimsuits and faded denims, and there was I -- Vampira at high noon. When I get my slinky-black instructions now, unless it's night, I just pretend everything's at the cleaners or fell into the bathtub when I was trying to steam the wrinkles out.
***
Nearly every woman is part-beauty. She has one good feature even if it's just smooth elbows. You play up that feature. You draw a face on the elbow with little eyes and a mouth. (I'm kidding!)
***
Married couples go places in neat little twos, fours, and sixes -- which seems so orderly. Naturally they do! There are two of each, so they multiply for social outings in twos like themselves. But you are not one of Noah's aardvarks, and it is all right to move in threes and fives occasionally.
***
Many married hostesses (who are not working women themselves) would be more comfortable with a Martian at the dinner table than a single female over twenty-five. They figure the only way to solve the whole embarrassing mess (a friend of their husband's brought you) is to bring you into their world and confine the conversation entirely to the children's summer camps, parties you haven't been to and what to put in the rock garden. About once a year I used to come down with an illness I could diagnose as patio fever -- total malaise brought on by having admired one too many split-level houses, basements converted into rumpus rooms or freshly landscaped patios. In an all-married gathering, I always found the best course of action was just to shut up and smile. Nobody will understand or care a bloody thing about what you do anyway. Of course, if you absolutely insist on entering the conversation, you can open with, "I understand this is one of the few neighborhoods in the city where property values have gone down consistently since 1956." That will put you in the action.