Marjorie Hillis (1889–1971)

This vintage guidebook was written in 1936 for a rather new category of woman: she who is single, working, and self-sufficient.

It's enlightening to look at it within its social context: after the first world war, there was a lot of anxiety about the sudden imbalance between the male and female population. So many men had been killed in the war that many women would never have the chance to marry. Hence, the genesis of the "extra women," a phrase that I find wistful and sad. No one should feel like they are an unneeded surplus number. Of course, this book does a lot to encourage single women to enjoy their lives and not feel sorry for themselves.

Interestingly, republished copies of this book drop that phrase from the title and simply mention the "single woman."

Even though some parts of this book are heavily dated and others funny in an unintended way, I did enjoy the straight talk about how to not be pitiful, how to take control of your own social life and home atmosphere, and how to be a pleasant sort of person.

The funny bits were the parts where I learned that there are FOUR types of pajamas, and TWO of them are suitable for entertaining guests, or the parts that assume that you have access to a maid at least some of the time. Running a home and playing hostess have changed a bit since 1936! Though, to be fair, she was writing to people of a certain social class. I know that not everyone at that time had a maid.

Here are some tidbits I enjoyed for various reasons:

"Everybody feels sorry for herself (to say nothing of himself) now and then. But anyone who pities herself for more than a month on end is a weak sister and likely to become a public nuisance besides."

"You've got to have variety...Every woman should have a smattering of knowledge about practically everything...to listen well you must have at least a vague idea of what the other fellow is talking about...it is both boring and irritating for him to have to adapt his conversation so that you can understand it."

"Practically no one's morale can overcome an outfit that's all wrong."

"As we have already suggested, one of the great secrets of living alone successfully is not to live alone too constantly. A reasonably large circle of friends and enemies whom you can see when you want to, and will often see when you don't want to, is an important asset."

"You probably spend plenty of breakfasts, luncheons, evenings, Sundays, and holidays entertaining yourself. Are you really entertained? Anyone with any gumption can be. The first rule is to have several passionate interests...You should have at least one that keeps you busy at home and another that takes you out."

"Even if your aim is merely to reach an average as an amusing person, you'll need to keep at it....a few discriminating moments spent on the morning paper, a few varied and well-chosen magazines read thoroughly, at least one good book a week, and a reasonable amount of "getting around" should do the trick."

"The civilized place for any woman to have breakfast is in bed...Perhaps you stand on your feet all day in a none too impressive job--be an elegant lady of leisure just the same from, say, seven-forty-five to eight-fifteen. Even though nobody knows, you'll be more of a person the rest of the day." :)… (altro)

An interesting -- if in many respects extremely dated -- book of advice targeted toward women who may be living alone, for a variety of reasons. Much of the advice given in the book seems to be grounded in good, hard common sense, such as budgeting, but there's also a lot of intriguing (and to me, sensible) advice regarding the attitudes to take, including giving, as well as getting, invitations. Some of the references (such as to Peggy Joyce or Alexander Woollcott) are going to fly over the head of 21st century readers, and the budgeting data (as well as the idea of getting cheap apartments in New York City) is long since stale, but there's much to mine here that's still relevant.… (altro)

This was great fun. Originally published in 1936, Marjorie Hillis’ self-help book gives wise and wittily phrased advice to women who live alone, voluntarily or otherwise, short-term or not. Some portions of this book are very specific to the 1930s (bed jackets, maids for hire per hour) or to New York City. Others are very sensible and perfectly applicable today.

Through experience Hillis has developed a formula for improving the mental well-being of the “liver-aloner”: Stop feeling sorry for yourself, try not to be a burden but a contributing presence, develop at least two hobbies, become a more interesting person, and cultivate friends. At a certain point, efforts to become more interesting and well-informed and efforts to enrich your friendships become mutually reinforcing and before you know it you’ll be in a much better place, mentally as well as in terms of how you’ve decorated your living spaces. All it takes, Hillis claims, is a little planning and some sustained effort. Along the way, she shares tips on mixing drinks, pampering yourself for little money, and a long list of Free Things To Do In New York City. She sings the praises of breakfast in bed, unreasonable amounts of travelling, and informed bargain-hunting.

Honestly, the bulk of the book’s advice is solid, and Hillis' finely-tuned sense of snark makes the whole thing a delight to read -- or to read out loud.… (altro)

Not nearly as entertaining as the author's 'Live Alone and Like It.' This particular self improvement piece is much more tied not just to a particular time, but to a particular class and culture. Also, the tone of this book is much more chiding women's magazine than clever and put-together friend. My budget certainly never stretched to the minimum standards set in the book, and there's really only so many times one can be told that one is impoverished and therefore beyond the scope of the budgeting book before it wears thin.… (altro)