Life, 1911-03-02 · page 14 of 52
Life — March 2, 1911 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story satirizes the "hobble skirt" craze of the 1910s—restrictive skirts so narrow women could barely walk. The cartoon at top mocks this: a man complains his horse is exhausted; another responds the dead bird on his companion's hat is worse—mocking the era's grotesquely oversized, ornament-laden women's hats (often featuring real feathers or taxidermied birds). The story itself uses a doll as a mouthpiece to critique wealthy society women. A young man takes the doll seriously while ignoring the actual Hobble Lady, finding the doll's observations more intelligent. The doll praises the Hobble Lady as "exquisitely and incomparably inefficient"—capable only of shopping, eating, dancing, and bridge-playing. The satire suggests these fashionable women were intellectually empty, slaves to passing trends, and socially useless despite their leisure and wealth. Author Nancy Woodrow uses absurdist humor to expose the vapidity Life magazine associates with high fashion.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“You CRUEL MAN! have sedulously cultivated my powers of observa- tion. Hence my widely opened eyes. Some people call them staring.” “Not at all,” said the young man politely, “and I will make bold to say that I consider you far more attractive than the Hobble ~~ ree iat, DON’T YOU KNOW THAT YOUR HORSE IS HALF DEAD WITH FATIGUE?" “HE AIN'T AS DEAD AS THAT BIRD ON YOUR Hat.” The Hobble Lady and Her Doll BY NANCY WooDROW HE Doll and the Hobble Lady had been out all day. They had been to the dressmaker's where they had learned how not to walk in the last new skirt, and where the dressmaker had ad- mired the Doll's beautiful brocaded coat and costly furs. Then to the milliner's, where the milliner had showed them the latest mad-house novelty in hats and predicted a more unlicensed eccentricity in shape and trimming than ever. Then they had gone to luncheon and the Doll had watched all the other Hobble Ladies eat; that is, she watched as well as she could for her fur scarf came up over her nose and her hat came down over her eyes. Then they had gone to a matinée, an Irish stew of tears and gowns and love and a leading man. Then they had tea in the restaurant of a smart hotel, amid stifling scents, unbear- able hot air and the saw-mill buzz of feminine voices. Then home, where the Hobble Lady had put herself and the Doll into the hands of her maid that they might both be arrayed in evening gowns and jewels for dinner. At dinner, which was an elaborate oc- casion with a number of guests, the Doll sat in a high chair between the Hobble Lady and a young man. This was con- sidered enormously amusing. The young man, however, took it quite seriously. He refused to speak to any one else during dinner, devoted himself to the Dol! and jotted down their con- versation in a note- book. “You seem to be quite an observer,” he said by way of opening the con- versation. “Truly I am,” returned the Doll. “Destined by Na- ture to be an on- looker at life, I A Owen, Lady's toy dogs. always digging their needle you.” The Doll grew a shade paler and shiv- ered slightly. “Thank you,” she said. Yelping little brutes, teeth into “ But since they have been banished we dolls have been receiving all kinds of rather, Black Hand or, Black Foot threats from them.” “Really!” He spoke rather absently. “But frankly now,” a shade of anxiety in his voice, “what do you think of the Hobble Lady?” “T admire her inordinately,” cried the doll enthusiastically. “She is so ex- ‘quisitely and incomparably inefficient. There is nothing in the world that she can do but shop and eat and dance and dress and play bridge, and the last in- adequately.” “You grant her very little gence,” defensively. “None, my dear man, none. The merest soupcon of it would mar her flaw- less inanity. If she had either intelli- gence or cultivation or any of those intelli- THE HOBSON HAT comicbooks.com