Life, 1921-01-13 · page 14 of 36
Life — January 13, 1921 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes early 20th-century women's social behaviors and domestic expertise. The text mockingly catalogs female stereotypes: women obsessed with appearance (perfectly styled hair), those who memorize directions, calorie-counters, housekeeping experts, and efficient multitaskers who simultaneously manage children and bake. The accompanying sketch, titled "The Bell-hop: BRIDAL SUITE, SAH? YES, SAH," depicts what appears to be a wedding scene or social gathering where a doorman or bellhop addresses an upper-class crowd, likely implying class dynamics or marital expectations. The satire targets women's narrow social roles—emphasizing appearance, domestic management, and social climbing—while the dialogue fragment "Was She an Exception?" suggests commentary on whether women could escape these limiting expectations.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
-LIFE- Women Who Impress Me OMEN whose sleckly shining and marcelled hair—under a carefully adjusted net— never budges the fraction of an inch. (My own slips and flies about and looks so discouragingly like hair.) Women who don't have to count on their fingers. Women who say, “My bedroom has a southwestern exposure,” or “Go due north on Third Street until you come to Maple Avenue, then turn to your left and walk over two blocks.” (I always listen without batting an eye—and inquire of handsome strangers at each corner how to proceed.) Women who, know all about calories and gluten. remember to ask my sister-in-law whether gluten is desirable— or deadly. Somebody by the name of Wiley keeps her con- stantly upset about these things.) Women who understand house-plans—and argue with the architect about the place for the kitchen sink. Women who write papers on the Modern Tendency in any- thing—from Sculpture to Corn-canning. Women who clean a big house—bathe, dress and spank five children—make some mayonnaise and a chocolate cake—put a lot of other food in a mysterious box that will mysteriously (1 must The Bell-hop: BRIDAL SUITE, cook—and bustle off to the Mothers’ Club by two o'clock Women who talk lightly and learnedly to grocers and butchers and by poking a raw chicken on a special spot, decide instantly whether it is tender or tough. Women who know what ought to be done about ex-convicis and back yards and the smoke nuisance Women who speak in low tones of “top-milk and barley- water” and “a little cotton on a match dipped in boracie acid solution.” with their offspring.) (These things, I've gathered, have something to do Janet, my sister-in-law, is all of these women in one. A fine mother—and a fine mayor. And she explains so gently to me— as to an idiot child, For example, all I have to say is: “ Janet, what is this strange thing I'm constantly finding in your strange magazines—called a Budget”? And the dear girl will gener- ously give me the rest of her afternoon. ‘ How do they get like that? Are they normal? Or am J nor- mal? I submit this to that earnest, upright, Christian periodi- cal—Lirr, Jacqueline Embry. Was She an Exception? ST: Ah! Good morning, my dear young lady. Has your mother a dish-washer? Davcuter or Tie House: You're looking at one now, sir. H? YES, SAH. comicbooks.com