It’s hard to fathom that just over 100 years ago (or “one person ago,” as Netflix comedian Joe Rogan would say) that women dressed like this. The corsets and flowy ankle-length dresses may have felt confining, but those hats must have weighed five pounds in themselves. Such were the times in 1911.
Only 6% of all 17-year-olds finished high school back then, and many women (such as these New York ladies in 1909) spent their days, bent down, making straw hats.
If not for the skills of the hat-makers in millinery shops, gossip columnist Hedda Hopper would never have been able to amass such a collection several decades later.
And the precip keep a’falling in the greater Austin area today. I’m thanking God I’m in the suburbs, as all of Austin is under a mandatory water boil notice, after the historic hill country flooding. Our lakes look like Nestle Quik.
Several of my friends’ lakeside homes have been destroyed. Many don’t have flood insurance because we’re lucky to get two drops of rain per year. This is a drought city. We go several months at 100 plus temps and not a drop of rain. Nearly every dang summer. It’s feast or famine.
And now it’s feasting time. You don’t realize how important clean water is until you need it. We have a whole house filter in our home, as well as a reverse osmosis on our fridge water, because I HATE the taste of nasty water. And our non-Austin, unfathomably overpriced city water tastes nasty. We’ve all been in restaurants with that chlorine-y water or at a relative’s house who serves ice that’s been sitting in her freezer for three months. Gross.
But Austinites would be happy for that nasty tap water today. All the local Starbucks are closed (though you’d think if any place could boil water, it’d be them), grocery stores have tossed all produce that was sprayed with city water, most eateries are closed (save the few that have workers coming in early to boil massive quantities of water to wash vegetables and clean dishes, while serving canned drinks), and no schoolchildren can drink from faucets. Needless to say, all of the plastic bottles have flown off the shells. Not a great time for such an environmentally-aware city.
And how are folks bathing? You’ve got me. They say it could last up to 14 days. Things could be worse, of course. But let’s never take clean water for granted.
infograph.venngage.com
The website cited above states that 99% of earth’s water is not drinkable. Most of you right now have a glass of water, or a mug of tea or coffee (made with clean water) adjacent to your keyboard. We are blessed, folks. The fortunate ones.
Victorian era peeps rarely looked happy to be alive. Maybe it was the ten minutes each morning spent lacing up boots or corsets or angling their hats just so. Maybe it was the frustration of pier and beam homes on those windy cold winter’s nights, wishing they had concrete foundations. The only information written on the picture was that Agnes is the girl on the left, and Lois is the girl on the right. Lois is the only one who seems to be enjoying the day, possibly because swings. No swings = stern.
How’s this for the mother and child reunion? What joy radiates from both of their faces. You can see why I couldn’t pass this snapshot up.
With Mother’s Day coming up, I thought I’d share a few pics of mothers and their children. She looks tickled to death that her son was granted a furlough to visit her.
This next mom lacks the enthusiasm of the others, but perhaps the corset has got her muscles too tightened to smile.
And lastly, we have a much more recent pic that looks to be from the 60s. If you ask me, it looks like Shirley Temple Black and a Kewpie doll.
Those eyes prove these two are related. Probably sisters–sandwiched between a stern mother and a less terrifying sister. Clasped hands, similar necklaces, and those eyes that stare up and out with…what? Mischief? Sorcery?
Barb was feeling solid that day. Clem had his good tie and hat on (the one that covered his high and tight, Macklemore-y, I was Fascist when Fascist wasn’t cool haircut), and the world was alive with possibility. The homestead was thriving. The fence posts were fenceposting. Barb threw caution to the wind and climbed aboard the fence and didn’t even care if the wire cut into the flesh of her palm. Her dress was fierce, her hair was amazing (think early Peanuts Lucy). What’s a little blood in the scheme of things?
I Don't Get It 