Showing posts with label 1950s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1950s. Show all posts

Friday, February 29, 2008

Friday Night Dancing

Friday Night Dancing
11" x 15"
watercolors
Back in the 1950s, when I was in college, there were some popular spots for dancing. Going dancing was a priority to many of us, and we would rather dance than eat-or go to class. There was a ballroom with a jukebox in the the SUB (Student Union Building), right next door to Biology class. The place was usually crowded with students, dancing or watching and waiting to be asked, day and night, unless there was some big event going on, or the administration was trying to crack down and make us all go to class.
The town was "dry", so, in order to get a drink, people had to drive across the river to another county, for drinking, liquor stores, and dancing at the little nightspots that dotted the highway.
One of the most popular of these was the Paper Moon. This was a larger place, that attracted a crowd at night. There were some old songs on the jukebox that were popular for dancing and singing along to. One of those songs, "Faded Love", would be played over and over and even more frequently as people started getting a little tipsy. "Crying in their beer", as the saying goes, might be more accurate. When that song came on, the college students would stand up, sing along loudly and with passion, and raise their drinks. A lot of people said that this was our school song, instead of the approved song that the college band played.
We were kind of lucky in those days. Everytime a team won a game, we had a holiday the next Monday. And we always won during those years. It was a sad day on campus when the team did happen to lose, and we had to go to class on a Monday.
One Monday, we didn't have to go to school. We awoke to see the flag at half staff. And learned that the reason for the holiday was that the Moon burned down. People were crying and so sad they could barely walk around.
There was another place near the Moon, but I don't recall the name of it. It was smaller and didn't have that same atmosphere. But, we didn't have a whole lot of choices of places to go.
Just south of town on the Houston highway, there was another place with a pretty good dance floor and a jukebox, but I don't think that there was drinking there. It was in a wooden building, but I can't remember the name of that place either. That is the one that I was thinking of when I painted "Friday Night Dancing". It wasn't the place that everyone congregated, or the place that you went on a big date. As I recall, we would go there, dance a few dances, then move on to another place.
Another popular place was State Lake. It had one of those rock buildings, sort of like a clubhouse, with a big dance floor, jukebox, and a nice big terrace that overlooked the lake. It was one of the WPA projects. There is a similar building at Ft. Parker Lake, and, I'm sure, a lot more across the country since it was a project built during the Depression. Of course, there was no drinking, and there weren't even tables or a place to buy food. But, it was in a lot of woods, and gave us a place to go away from the scrutiny of the grownups on campus and in town.
In those days, I would have almost killed to have a pony tail that would swing when I danced. (Now my hair is much longer than that, but I can't dance anymore due to bad knees.)
I tried all kinds of things to make my hair grow longer, including pulling my hair as I rolled it. But, it would get almost to my shoulders and I couldn't stand it any longer, and I would have to get it cut in duck tails again. Pony tails, duck tails (or DAs, as some people called that cut), and a medium length hair style that was rolled with pin curls were popular for the girls. Guys had DAs, butch cuts, crew cuts, or a medium cut that allowed the hair to be combed back with a little swirl or poof on the top. Of course, the Aggies had their military hair cuts, with the freshman being bald. We were glad to date seniors, or juniors, who had better hair cuts!
When we went out, we had to have on our beads and earbobs, maybe a watch. We just wore a lipstick called "Natural" for every day. For dress up, we wore "Red" lipstick and, for really special occasions, we would add a little powder or mascara on our eyebrows. Circle skirts were in style and, when we wore those, we had to wear lots of petticoats to hold the skirt as straight out as possible. Six, eight, or even ten or more petticoats were required to make those skirts hang just right. Another style was pencil slim skirts. Those didn't require petticoats of course, but, unless you had an adequate kick pleat in the back, it was kind of hard to walk in those!
To make sure that the figure was held in check, girls had to wear Merry Widows, that brought reminders of earlier days of corsets and tiny waists. If you couldn't breathe, you had the right adjustment on the Merry Widow! To complete the look of the tiny waist, over the skirts, girls wore a wide elastic belt, like a huge rubber band.
Sweaters were popular with the skirts as were simple blouses .
Small scarves were tied about the neck, like the cowboys wore in the movies, only with more variety in color and designs.
Shoes for dancing needed a good leather sole. To keep from slipping and having an embarassing fall on the dance floor, due to shiney new shoe soles, sandpaper could be used to scuff the bottom of the shoe a bit, until it got worn enough from dancing. Rubber heels and some soles were available, but , while they were okay for normal walking, you couldn't dance with those. And, new shoes were usually stiff as boards, which made walking with blisters on the feet, a painful activity. Often, shoes were abandoned in favor of dancing in socks or stocking feet. Guys usually kept their shoes on, unless it was at a sock hop, when everyone wore various kinds of socks.
Ballet or ballerina slippers were popular for dress, dancing, and every day. Penny loafers and saddle shoes were also popular. For dress up, the taller the heels, the better. Three to four inch heels were for dress up, flats were for everyday wear, or if your date wasn't very much taller than you were.
Along with dress up, we wore sheer stockings held up with a garter belt or a girdle. Some ladies could hold up their stockings with just a pair of garters, but that was mainly girls who were on the thin side. Stockings might be worn with flats or heels, but usually not with penny loafers or saddle shoes. For the more casual shoes, we wore white socks that rolled over into a thick top. Two or three rolls were most desirable. In the summer, there were thin cotton socks. Also, sandals were great for hot weather.
We danced to big band music, rock and roll, some blues, and old country western. If we thought it would shock our parents, without actually shocking us worse, we were all for it.
My painting didn't fit on the scanner, so I showed a detail of it, then smaller details from each side. The girls dancing aren't supposed to be anyone in particular. They just show the styles, the movement of jitterbug or jitterbop that we used to do, and the colorful jukebox at the edge of the open dance floor. (Other dances included the waltz and the fox trot, but, in my painting, my girls are carried away with the rhythm of the jitterbug.)

Saturday, September 29, 2007

September Song

September Song
8.5"x 11"
pencil
Saturday night in a dorm room on the campus of a small college, Sam Houston State, in Texas. A night for dates, parties, dancing, celebration of a win of the big football game in the afternoon. There is bustling activity as girls put on their formals for a big dance, anticipating a perfect evening. Others meet their dates in the lobby/dining area. One young man slips his date's wrap over her shoulders as they leave for a party.
There has been much primping, borrowing, changing clothes, asking for opinions and help from other girls as the young women work for the perfect look. They hope that their dates from Texas A&M University will show up in their uniforms, especially if they are seniors and can wear the prized senior boots. But, if they are not in the Corps, or even if they are from the local college, the girls hope that their dates will arrive, dressed up and using their best manners. They hope that they can go where they can show off their dates, as well as their outfits. And, they hope that this date will be the best ever, and something that will be permanent.
Spirits are high around the town after a football win, so everyone prepares for the big night with lots of energy.
And, then, there are those without dates. There's casual dress, jeans and a large shirt, shorts, or even a housecoat and slippers around the dorm. Books might be brought out, and some might make a trip to the library, or a few might go with another group of girls, to a movie and out to eat. Those would be the ones who still had money left, and whose boyfriends were too far away to come here and take them out. It might be time to catch up on laundry, cleaning, homework, or a group might get together for a card game.
On this Saturday night, late in September, in the 1950s, she sits alone in her dorm room while activity goes on outside of her little world. She has on jeans and a shirt, she is barefoot, and sits at her desk with books on the shelf, unopened. The little 45 record player is ready with some popular selections. A Coke sits ready to be sipped on during the evening. She has pulled out a couple of sheets of blue stationary from a box on the shelf. Fountain pen and a bottle of blue ink wait to be used. She will write a long letter as she listens to the record player and the radio. She hopes that the boy won't mind getting a letter from her. She really likes him, and he has asked her out several times. But, when he gets away from her, is she just a joke to him? After all, he is older, going to a big university, he's smart, and oh-so-good- looking. She writes a guarded letter, in her best handwriting, hoping that maybe he will ask her to one of those big football games at his school, to a dance, or, even, that he will ask her to go anywhere again. Before the letter is mailed, she will ask her friends to read it, to be sure that it is alright and that there are no mistakes. After all, like other girls, she came to college to meet her Prince Charming and live happily ever after. To her, he was that one. She had turned down dates with other boys she knew. And, so, here she was, on a Saturday night, listening, and writing, with tears in her eyes, while others went out to celebrate the big victory.
It was September, and, as "September Song" played, she envisioned a landscape outside of her window, with colorful leaves drifting down to fill the parking lot below. The weather would be cool and all those fall clothes she had brought to school would be comfortable. There would be the fragance of apples and sugar cane in the air. She would wear a soft, cashmere sweater, a felt circle skirt with lots of petticoats, a wide belt, a neckerchief or a cashmere collar, pearl earbobs, and ballerina shoes, and she would carry a matching cashmere sweater or poodle cloth jacket in case it got cooler. She would wear red lipstick and a hint of mascara on her eyebrows. She would have liked to have a long pony tail that would swing when she danced, but she lacked the patience it takes to let her hair grow that long. Instead she had ducktails and swept the top in a soft swirl. When her dream date would come to take her out, she would be ready for dancing, a movie, going out to eat, or even just riding or walking around.
But, this was Texas. It was still hot in September, so it was more practical to wear cotton clothing, although girls did wear layers of clothes and those tight merry widows. The leaves didn't change or flutter to the ground. Apples didn't grow in that part of the country. You would have to go to a store or fruit stand to find them. Sugar cane was brought in to the stores. Music didn't play all the time, and Prince Charming never did arrive on his big white horse to whisk her away to an enchanted life.
The only time she got to go to one of those big football games was when she went with her grandfather and her father. She never got to go to a dance at the big school.
The boy did come back, a few times, but he moved on, and so did she. But, she still remembered. And, one day not long ago, she wondered where the time had gone and knew that her dream never would come true.
She did go out, and go dancing, and to other big dances, with other boys, over the years, and went on with life.
Back then, it did truly seem like a long, long time, from May to December, and through the rest of the year. The days have grown short, now that it is Semptember. Time to watch the young ones, and remember. As I watched the A&M-Baylor football game today, I couldn't help but remember.
"September Song" is done in pencil and shows a memory of college days. Except for football and tv programs and ads, and the stores decorated with pumpkins and Halloween objects, it's a bit hard to get in the mood for what we think of as traditional autumn around here. Often, what happens is that leaves on some trees start to change, then a norther comes through and knocks all the leaves to the ground. So, we go from summer, to a few days that look like we are going to have autumn, then we go directly to winter-for a few days. Soon, it's hot again, and summer-like.
As September comes to a close, I hope that it has been a good, memorable month for you. We look forward to the promise of October.
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Tuesday, September 4, 2007

What Are You Going To Wear Tomorrow?


What Are You Going To Wear Tomorrow?
8.5" x 11"
pencil
For quite some years, now, we have been hearing young people explain that they want to dress like they do, in order to express themselves. That this lets them be individuals. And, even in the most conservative places, there will be at least one student, who will dress themselves in the strangest of hair and clothing styles, which astonishes the older generation.
However, if you look around, those expressions are not at all different, but are reflections of what is in style in other locales, or in the media. Even those with the "original" styles, are dressing just like someone else. Most likely, they wouldn't dress that way, if someone else was not already dressing in that manner.
In my drawing today, "What Are You Going To Wear Tomorrow?", I have shown that question being asked over our telephone, in the house where I grew up. We had a telephone on the wall in the small hall, between my parents' bedroom, and the linen closet. There were two more doors in that little hall-one to the bathroom and one to the the bed room that my sister and I shared.
There was a crank on one side of the wooden box that was our telephone, bells on the front with a little shelf below for writing, a metal piece for talking into, and a cradle on one side where the receiver rested, when we weren't talking.
We could turn the crank, stand on tip toes, and ask "Central" (the lady who ran the telephone office and kept the switchboard, which was in her house) to ring the person we wanted to talk to. Sometimes, Central would tell us that the person was somewhere else, and move our call to that place. Or they would tell us what the person was doing, if they had company, or were outside that time of day. In later years, we were encouraged to tell Central the phone number we wanted.
"Central, give me 161, please." or "Central, give me 1, please."
If there was a fire, and we heard the fire whistle at the City Hall blow, we could call Central, and she would tell where the fire was. We could also ask her what she had heard about most any topic of interest.
Central was a sweet lady, who had, with her husband, lived in a downstairs apartment from us, in my great-grandfather's house, when I was small. That was before she became the town telephone operator.
We didn't have a phone in our new house, or the old apartment, either. Times were hard, and everyone tried to save. Salaries were really small, too.
Finally, Daddy got a phone, and we called everyone we knew who had a phone.
As a young school student, we called each other to get help with homework, or an assignment that we missed. And, each evening, we had to make the rounds of calling each other to see what everyone else was going to wear the next day. We needed to fit in, and not wear things that the rest of the students were not wearing. Jeans or pants for girls were not allowed at school (except when it was really cold and the heat was not working on the top floors of the school) . There was a time, when the rules were relaxed a little, and we could wear jeans to class on Friday or pep rally day. And, for a while, we could wear overalls, just with special permission. Some of the boys showed up with Mohawk haircuts, much to the dismay of all the teachers. The boys were giggling, and we thought that was just awful to look like that. They weren't going to be allowed to play football with their hair like it was. So, other boys got Mohawks too. Everyone was shocked at such behavior.
I always wanted red hair, and my mother wouldn't let me put a rinse or dye on my hair. So, I went to the drugstore and bought a box of red rinse for my hair. I locked myself in the bathroom and made my hair red. My mother was upset, and I thought I had ruined my life. I was now a loose woman with dyed hair. I went to school like that, wearing my overalls, and waited for the compliments, or for some teacher to fuss at me for doing that to my hair. The band even marched in the football game that night. I was sure to get a lot of attention with my beautiful red hair!
No one said a word about my hair. I even told some people what I had done and it didn't get their attention. I don't think it stood out at all because my hair did look red in the sun, anyway. It wasn't a bright red, but looked a lot like it always did. But, I was sure that I had done something terrible, and permanent.
The rinse came out with shampoo, and, years later, I was told that I would have to have the color removed from my hair before I could get the lighter colors that I wanted. I never wanted to do that. But I did use peroxide on it when I was in college, and tried to do the red thing again after I had children. It wasn't that different from the natural color.
We pretty well stuck to the accepted styles, in our school years, mainly with fashions that came from movies or movie magazines. And, whatever the leaders in school wore, we wanted to wear the same thing. We wanted to fit in, not be different.
Some styles dictated that our skirts had to be exactly 2 1/2 inches above the top of our roll- over socks. The next year, skirts were shortened (shockingly!) so that there were 3 inches between the skirt and the top of the socks. Those things were not easy to accomplish, when socks kept sliding down. so, we devised using rubber bands to hold up our socks. (Not so good for circulation.)
We might wear a white peasant blouse with a circle skirt and ballerina slippers, and natural lipstick. Or we might all decide to wear a pencil slim skirt, a white shirt with turned up collar, pearls and pearl earbobs, rolled-over white socks with penny loafers. We had other outfits, too, of course, but those are just a couple of examples. No matter what, however, we had to call each other and see what everyone else was wearing.
Some older girls used a cake of brown mascara in a little case, spit on it, then used the little brush to apply the mascara to their eyebrows and eyelashes. Of course, we had to wait until we got to school for those things, and had to remove it before we went home. Now I know that we shouldn't have done that, but that is what people did at the time. One girl, who wanted to be an airline stewardess, even had a compact with pancake makeup in it, that she applied in the restroom at school, while we all watched. (I couldn't tell any difference.) But, we thought that this was a very grown up, and risque, thing to do. Later, about time for graduation, some girls wore a little face powder, for special occasions. There was red lipstick for Sunday and for dress up, but only natural for every day.
In the drawing above, I have shown the hall telephone, as I tried to find out what to wear the next day. My little sister liked to come in the hall, especially while I was on the phone with my friends-even if I closed all the doors to the hall.
That phone was hung just at the right height to catch her head as she ran through the hall. She would get a nice "goose egg" on her head after she ran into the corner of the telephone. At least, the phone was well built and sturdy.
I can still spend hours in the closet, trying to decide what to wear. Not that I have that many clothes, I just try to decide what is comfortable, appropriate, and looks nice. I keep changing my mind. It would be nice to be able to call a classmate and find out what everyone would be wearing, so we could all match. I would certainly save a lot of time.
"What Are You Wearing Tomorrow?" is a sketch done with pencil. I have thoughts of reworking this as a pen and ink drawing, or a painting in watercolor or oil.
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Monday, September 3, 2007

Going To School

Going To School
8.5" x 11"
pencil
Today is the first time, that I can remember, in all my years, that students have had to go to school on Labor Day. The university, college, and public schools are all having classes today. I was so surprised, I had not thought of my grandson having to go to school today, and had thought about what we could do for a holiday. The oldest one has to work, so it is turning out to be just another day for us.
I surely would have needed a peach tree switch to get me to go to school on a day that has always been a holiday.
In all my life, I never had to go to school on my birthday, after Christmas holidays. One year, as a teacher, I had to go for teacher workday that day, and I was not a happy camper, at all. I was a grouch all day. Not that I did that much to celebrate. It was just the idea that this was always my last day of freedom before school started again for the new year.
I guess that school started a little later, this year, and they may have fewer days off, or something. Since I am no longer teaching, and don't have a vote on the school calendar, I don't know what the reasoning was.
As a teacher, I always needed the extra days in the Labor Day weekend, to work on my classroom, plan for the year, make out seating charts, order supplies, make out things like gradebook and lesson plan book, and make prepartions to teach. At one time, we didn't start school until after Labor Day. Those days of starting in early August were just too much. It was too hot and people were uncomfortable and not ready to be cooped up inside classrooms.
I don't remember ever participating in any Labor Day celebrations, like the ones that we see on tv and in movies. In fact, I don't recall being in a place where any celebrations were held. Offices, stores and businesses closed, as did libraries and schools, but there were never picnics, speeches, games, or gatherings. Sometimes families barbequed or had picnics, went to the swimming pool at the country club or played golf, but there was nothing for groups or the community.
In more recent years, the Jerry Lewis MDA telethon became a big thing to watch on tv, complete with special meals or tv dinners, served on tv trays.
In the drawing above, I showed the way that I often went off to school in the morning. Mama had to follow me with a switch across the porch, then down the little hill in our yard, and out into the street. She usually didn't have to follow me much further than the curb, unless I knew that I had work that was due and not finished, had a test, or someone was sure to beat me up after school.
Poochie, our black dog with a fluffy, curley tail, followed me some. She was really more attentive to my little sister and would return home to follow my sister around all day. When my sister started school, Poochie went with her. I think she even went inside the room a time or two. Usually, she just sat at the windows, watching inside the basement room until my sister came out. Then she followed my sister home. We said that she was like Mary and her little lamb, that followed her to school one day.
We only lived about a half block from the big school, which is now the town high school. For us, it was all grades. Elementary school, restrooms, Ag, Homemaking, and the cafeteria were in the basement. Middle school, the auditorium, choir room, cloak room, and the offices were on the second floor. And the third floor was high school and the library. People didn't ask what grade or level you were in, but instead, asked what floor you were on in school. I always wondered where people went after they finished all the floors. If someone had to go to the restroom, they asked to go to the basement. In the lower grades, we had to show, with our fingers, what we needed to go to the restoom for. I was too embarrassed, so I just waited until I got home in the afternoon, no matter what!
In the 1940s and '50s, we still had flights of airplanes that flew over in formation. The sound of the motors was so relaxing, I would almost fall asleep. I still do, when I hear those engines in a movie. I have shown one of these formations in my sketch. Later, there were frequent flights of trainers going between Waco and Bryan and, still later, jets started to fly over.
Another sound was the cooing of the Mourning Doves in the park, that carried over our neighborhood, especially in the early morning. Such a peaceful sound.
There were empty lots on each side of the street, with houses across the street and past my house on the way to town. The lots to the right side in my sketch, were filled with Indian Paintbrushes in the spring. There was a path cut through there, where kids would go to and from school, from the next streets over. One of our dogs loved peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We would make sandwiches for the dog, who would eat part of it, then bury the rest of it in the empty lot across the alley from our house. Several houses have been built there, so the wildflowers and the path are long gone.
In the picture above, I am walking with my books, head down, one arm out, as I balance while walking on the curb. Something that I often did, and it took me longer to get anywhere that way. "Don't dawdle!" my mother would tell me, as I drug my feet or walked balancing on the curb.
A little earlier, the street would have been filled with cars, kids on bicycles, or walking to school. I was often the last one there.
Interestingly, I was not the first one out of the building to go home each day. I wanted to stay as long as I could with friends, some days, or join my friends and classmates in some kind of games or practice. Some days, I was trying to avoid being hit by a girl who waited for me and gave me black eyes and bloody noses. And, sometimes, I was walking , slowly, toward town, with my boyfriend.
And then there were the special days, in high school, when I got to drive the car, all that whole half block from my house to the school! Those days, I was ready to go to school early, so that people could see me driving the car. We had a 1948 Ford four door, with a speaker in the back for the radio, and a 1948 Willys Jeepster, convertable. Daddy had his pickup that he loved to drive, so there were cars for me to use.
Of course, every time I took the car, without asking him, or if he said "no" that day, I ran into trouble. Flat tires, out of gas, ran into a ditch and couldn't get out, and even ran over the big rocks that were at the entrance to the park and got the car hung. (That was my great-aunt's Nash, that time. Her husband had told her to not let me drive their new car, but she was determined to teach me to drive. So, we took the car for a ride in the afternoon. The park had a circular drive around the inside, and that was one place we practiced. But, coming out, I didn't turn short enough and ran over a big rock. The car was hung. And my great-aunt had to call her husband to come get the car unstuck. He was not happy. But she was not bothered.
Instead, she told me about when she and her sisters-in-law were learning to drive, in the early 1900s. They drove a car out into the country, but couldn't figure out how to shift gears correctly. They ended up backing the car all the way back to town. ) Her husband never said more about the car. I think I was more upset than anyone. The car was not damaged.
As for the switch, or hairbrush, I am convinced that I would not have done much if I had not been afraid not to do what I was supposed to do. Today, a lot of kids don't seem to have fear of anything, so they do what they please at school, at home, or anywhere.
I hope that, if you had to go to school or work today, you didn't have to have someone chase you with a switch! And, if you are observing Labor Day, I hope that you are having a good time, and making memories.
"Going To School" is a pencil drawing of one of my memories.
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Happy Labor Day.