Keeping Up Appearances

I've talked a fair bit about the food we've been eating and the cleaning I've been doing, but I haven't really revealed all that much about what I've been doing about the 50s housewife edict of being beautiful and showing pride in her appearance. So, here we go!

A friend was reading through the list of things I do for the 50s Housewife Experiment and asked if I really do the following:

Yes, I really do, despite really not being a morning person. The bow-and-lipstick look on me is less sweet and darling and more What Ever Happened to Baby Jane. You can see what I mean from this picture Patrick cheekily took of me one morning while I was preparing his orange juice.
What a vision. That is the face that launches my husband's ship to work everyday. Thankfully, my face comes with a side of bacon and eggs.

And, yes, I've also been putting on make-up even when I don't plan to go anywhere. You have to understand that I'm not really the make-up-y type. Sure, it's fun to play with and get glammed up, but if I didn't have time before going out, I didn't think anything of leaving the house bare-faced. But make-up is really just a small part of the beauty regime.

One 50s-era magazine suggested a weekly schedule for beauty and hygiene. I have to admit that I didn't really follow that all very well last week. Because of that, I opted to dedicate the afternoon yesterday toward glamourization. I gave myself a 50s facial (which involved cleansing, "ironing" my face with ice, an egg white mask and moisturizing), tweezing, a scalp massage, a nap (dreamy!) and going out for a manicure and a pedicure. I had a gift certificate for a local nail bar so I was free of feeling that cheapo 50s housewife guilt. And there's a very silly pose of me to show you the outcome, complete with my stubby hand trying to still my pounding martyr heart from all the self-indulgence. Admittedly, the look is little more 40s than 50s, but I'm not willing to set my hair with a home perm, so there you go.

I mentioned before that I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with the whole wash-your-hair-once-a-week craziness of the 50s. Thanks to a suggestion from Paige, I tried Batiste Dry Shampoo Spray. Wow! I haven't washed my hair in the shower since girdle day and not once have I been compared to Nick Nolte's mugshot. Amazing!

At the end of the day, the 50s housewife used cold cream to remove her make-up and clean her face. I happen to have some, so I've been using it daily. It's just like breakfast - greasy. Let me put it this way, if you run out of shortening (and following the 50s diet, you will), just grab a jar of Pond's Cold Cream and carry on with your recipe. It gets the make-up off, but then you spend another five minute getting it off ("That's what she said." - Michael Scott).

But that isn't all. The mindful 50s housewife ensures she is the vision of glamour before retiring for the night. You see (and sorry for the scan quality - this magazine printed close to the binding):

The bedroom is not strictly for sleeping? Ah, right. Eating.

Arf, arf. No, I do understand what they mean. According to my guide, a wife needs to consider her beauty at all times while maintaining a little mystery about how she achieves such a look. It went on to explain all the things she should do in the bathroom. And then ...

I'm about as mysterious as a Hardy Boys novel read back to front, so getting prepped for bed in the bathroom was definitely out of the ordinary for me. In fact, one night while I was getting "bright and clean and delicious" Patrick bellowed, "are you masturbating in there or something?"

Well, geez, not anymore.

Anyhoo - back to Day 9 of the 50s Housewife Experiment ... Since my day was so busy with the hard work of looking beautiful and shopping for groceries, I decided it was the ideal time to break out the 50s housewife's greatest secret weapon - the TV dinner.



While Swanson now carries contemporary dishes for the sophisticated modern palate - like chicken nuggets and ribs - I wanted to go classic so I picked up a turkey and a Salisbury steak dinner. The biggest differences between the current and 50s versions are that there isn't a soup serving, the dessert is primarily made of corn starch and everything is cooked in plastic rather than tin. Mmm, mmm.
For a treat, we ate them by the TV while we watched an episode of I Love Lucy. At first, Patrick was disgusted (he opted for Salisbury steak) but a few bites later, the Swanson chemicals flavour kicked in and he was lapping it up.

My, that Swanson made my day so easy! So fast to prepare and clean-up was a breeze! Why, I could go for manis and pedis every day if Swanson was on the menu. That said, I'd also be hassled with funeral arrangements for Patrick on account of him getting some nutrition-related disease, so in the long run, it's probably better that I cook the rest of our meals, as gross and time-consuming as some of them may be.

Speaking of which, I best get on with the day. Catch up with you later!

Image Sources: Avon advertisement, circa 1958 and The Bride's Reference Book