Recommendations to the Lady of the House
Back in the 1960s, my mother attended the International College of Household Management, where she learned everything expected of a proper housewife.
Today, I leaf through her radiant blue A5 ring binders, flipping through slightly yellowed pages filled with her handwriting.
Titles like “Trousseau Laundry” or “Cleaning“ and “Mending” jump out at me.
Right from the “Trousseau Laundry” section, I’m forced to admit that I lack what it takes to be the perfect housewife.
I don’t own the required six to twenty-four washcloths (then available for 1.50 Deutsche Mark), nor do I possess the floor polisher that is listed as essential in the chapter „Cleaning“.
“Mending” is something I would actually like to be better at - something I’m reminded of every time one of my favourite garments gets caught on something.
At least it’s not too late to learn that egg yolk should only be gently scratched off and that egg white stains should be removed with cold water.
For ink or rust stains, the binder recommends using an “ink devil” or “rust devil” - how convenient.
The chapter „Cocktail Parties“ feels far more like me.
That said, I realise almost immediately that I’d fall straight into the etiquette trap of how to address distinguished guests - at least if a few dignitaries happened to drop by.
Mister President, Mister Chancellor, Mister Minister… it begins.
And it continues for three pages, listing everyone from Mister Councillor and Mister Military Attaché to Mister Director General and so on…
I picture myself scrambling for the correct form of address if, say, MADAM Merkel (who now has the time again) were to make a surprise appearance at my little soirée.
The International College of Household Management leaves me completely on my own here - no guidance on whether “Madam Chancellor” is acceptable or whether Angela Merkel’s doctorate should be squeezed in somewhere or simply left out altogether.
Women are eventually acknowledged in the chapter on formal address under “Reverend Sister” and “Reverend Mother.”
Though I’m not entirely sure they’d attend my party.
The section on cosmetics runs to one and a half pages.
Apply foundation to your hands first, then rub it onto your face or risk blotches.
Eyelashes should be cleaned in the evening and rolled onto a pencil…
About refuelling a car there’s no entry at all - nor about driving one.
So perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised when a friend, after borrowing our car, insisted on speaking to my husband to ask what kind of fuel it takes.
We had already been on the phone for a while and I was genuinely puzzled he hadn’t just asked me.
But then again: “I remain, dear Professor, with kind regards to your lady wife” - that seems to be how etiquette would have it.
Which brings me to the chapter on “Storing for the Season.”
Lavender blossoms and tissue paper are the main recommendations for garments going into storage.
That does sound lovely.
And I imagine how wonderful it would be if we could just wrap up all the clichés about men and women in silk paper and stash them at the very back of the closet - so far back that we eventually forget they were ever there.
Until then, we have some of our favourite women-led businesses for you:
