Issue 55: a social history of 1920s London (part 4 of 4)
A window onto life for a young woman living in the capital 100 years ago, as described in her diary.
An intermittent series told through the 1923 diary of 17-year-old Londoner, Lily*, who lived in the north of the capital and worked at her father’s shop in the east. Who loved art, fashion, and dancing, and who was determined to enjoy herself while she was young.
Her diary is housed at the Bishopsgate Institute in east London, part of the 17,000+ collection of The Great Diary Project, founded in 2007.
Read the previous instalment:
We pick back up with Lily in the final quarter of her 12-month diary. Our protagonist – after being in mourning for her mother since May – begins to resume some aspects of her life from before the bereavement.
From wearing colour:
“I’ve had a new coat made. It’s awfully nice – in black with a litter colour on it. I am so tired of black, after all its five months now and I can wear a little colour – colours to make winter brighter.”
And returning to her evening art class:
“I didn’t intend to go again, but I don’t go out at all and it makes a change. And I love sketching so much. The teachers were glad to see me – at least they said they were. I’m always indoors every night til I feel I’ll go mad and this is some recreation.”
To visiting the Whitechapel Art Gallery (which she has opinions about!):
“They have a beautiful collection of ‘modern art’ – I did like it so much. The usual type of things were there – futurist made paintings and landscapes which from a distance look well but closely seem to be just dab upon dab of furious bright colour as if the ‘artist’ wasn’t looking and just dipped his brushes into multi-coloured paints and dabbed haphazardly on the canvas. And there was of course the usual nude studies […] There was on the whole a good collection – some of course weren’t much good. What struck me most was the beautiful black and white studies and the pretty water colours.”
And going out for walks and bus rides with girlfriends (and occasionally even meeting boys):
“It was not too cold, so [my friend and I] went into Hyde Park. [We met two boys] and we clicked. I wouldn’t have bothered as I feel different to all that now, but my friend encouraged them. […] We strolled round and they saw us home. On the bus we got quite pally. […] We spoke of dances and theatre etc and I sighed for I had forgotten all these things. Before my chap left he wanted to make a date with me. He did get on my nerves. Spoke Americanisms, called me ‘sweetie’ and ‘honeybunch’ all the time. Can you imagine me as either of those things??? Or being called them!!! I promised to meet him next Friday evening, but I shan’t go. […] I’m fed up with boys and their nonsense. I’m not going to meet him.”
She also gives us some insights into fashion and remembrances of the period:
“The latest fad is wearing glass bangles – not one, but about a dozen – on each arm. They wear them in all colours, red, green, blue and yellow, and they jingle so prettily. After dancing a char woman has to go round collecting the pieces of glass. It does look pretty as bare arms are all the go, so they must be decorated.”
“I had on my little coat and skirt. The skirt is rather brief, but, well if fashion says short skirts… what would you? And if one has nice legs, I mean to say, why not?”
“It’s five years today since the armistice was signed – shall I ever forget it – I was away from school at the time, had a slight attack of flu, but at 11 o’clock when that hooter went, we all ran to the door. The traffic stopped and everyone raised a loud cheer of joy and thankfulness that at last that horrible war was over and happiness would come to us again after the horrors and strife of the past few years.”
It’s interesting to note that while Lily has previously expressed feminist opinions about inequality between the sexes, she has some quite unpleasant views about the wife in a family that’s renting property from her father and are behind in their payments:
“The husband only turns up every 6 weeks or so, and when he does come home for a few days, he comes in about 3 o’clock in the morning […] I do pity the young wife [but] it’s partly her fault I think because she could make him different if she herself were otherwise. She’s dreadfully untidy, goes about with her hair uncombed and falling down. Her rooms are always in a frightful mess and the children crying and dirty, and she doesn’t even cook […] I am not making excuses for her husband – oh no, he’s a nasty, smooth tongued beast – but it is her fault. Though she is to be pitied because she doesn’t see it herself, she thinks it is she who is done wrong by, but it is she who has brought it on herself. She dresses awful, she can’t cook, she’s very plain and miserable always. What has her husband to come home for?”
Lily turns 18 in November: “Gee, how ancient it seems – I seem to see grey hairs and wrinkles already”. She thinks back to the previous year, when her mother was still with them, but tells herself she “musn’t cry on my birthday”. Instead, she thinks to the future:
“I suppose I’ll be getting married someday not very far off. After all, 18 and unattached – seems like a confirmed spinster doesn’t it? I think I’ll get a parrot and a cat and of course some knitting… That is of course if I can’t hook anyone. […] But I’m not in a hurry – I don’t want to get married, not for a long long time. I don’t want to put a full stop yet. At present I look forward to what boy I’ll get hold of. [But] when I catch him it will leave mothering to look forward to – just a monotonous existence, that’s all. […] I wonder what sort of chap I’ll get – if I do get one?”
Lily informs us that her sister has dropped her interest in spiritualism and trying to contact their mother beyond the grave (“She felt that it wasn’t right to try and bring them back. We pray that their souls should rest in peace”), but the pair do visit a fortune teller “for a joke” – “and how we laughed afterwards!!!”.
“She said I would marry at 21 (!) and an elderly man (!!!) someone she says from 30 to 37 (gracious me!). She said he’d probably have a moustache. He’d have a high forehead and wear pointed toes to his boots. I’d never marry a guy that age (dear me). […] If he was a Duke or Lord perhaps… […] I’d prefer a chap a couple of years older than myself – that’s all.”
And then just six weeks later:
“I’ve had a real honest to goodness proposal!!!! […] We had been out and [resting on a bench in the park] he sat there quiet. I said: ‘What’s biting you old bean, why this business so quiet and all that?’ And he said: ‘I’ve lost my heart’ with such a look that I screamed [with laughter]. He said: ‘You’ve got it, it’s in the hollow of your hands’. So I said: ‘So what happens when I wash, it will get drowned? Anyway, I don’t want your heart, I guess it’s awkward for you without one, take it back!’ And I made a move with my hand as if to give it to him. But he got mad and tried to kiss me. Then I saw he meant it seriously and I shook my head and told him that it was a no. I have dreams of love and a home etc and rather than take the wrong thing, I’d give it a miss.”
As the year draws to a close, Lily laments the lack of snow at Christmas, and on New Year’s Eve, hopes for a “lighter and brighter” 1924.
The diary formally ends on 31 December, but Lily uses the memoranda and monthly accounting pages – and then tips in her own additional pages – to continue making intermittent entries over the following decades.
In September 1924 her father gets remarried (“’She’ tries to be friendly with us and wants to be nice to us – and we know it’s not her fault – but still it’s so hard.”). Her sister is married the next month (“Such excitement. He’s an awfully nice chap”) and babies follow in September 1925 (“It’s twins!!! Two little girls”).
And then a week later, on 26 September 1925:
“This is the happiest event of my life – up til now – I’m engaged!! I used to go with him about a year ago – of course in a platonic way. This was just after poor mother died and I, having been in mourning for a year, wanted to go out and have a good time to make up for the miserable time I’d had cooking, housekeeping, not [having] enjoyments. And then her appeared and ‘popped the question’ – I wouldn’t think of it then, not that I objected to him, he’s a nice boy, but I didn’t care for the thought of settling down or going with a boy just then.”
The dates don’t appear to match up exactly (although they are spoken of in ‘abouts’ and ‘a fews’), but it’s interesting to wonder whether this is the same proposal (above) she wrote about in 1923? If it was a separate one, wouldn’t she have documented that in her diary, too?
“Just a few months ago at a dance, I met him again – quite accidentally. Of course we fell over ourselves and he came over to me and saw me home. We got talking, this, that and the other, and he said he’d phone me and would I go out with him? Would I?!? I realised how foolish I’d been last year – after all, he loves me and is awfully good to me. As for not wanting to settle down, I’ve realised that dancing etc is all so stupid, meaningless, empty – and having someone to care for you and someone to care for is worth anything. We had been going out on and off for a couple of months and then he spoke to Father. Dad was ever so pleased as he likes him. I’ve got a lovely ring – a single diamond set in platinum – cost an awful lot. I asked him if I was worth all that money and he said he’d have spent more if he could – but I don’t love it so much for its intrinsic value but because he gave it to me and for what it means. I’m hoping we will be happy – with all the good wishes we’ve had we ought to be, and we care for each other so we will try to make each other happy. […] It’s funny to speak of a wedding with reference to myself as I’ve always thought of myself as still very young – and then to be married with responsibilities! But it’s worth it.
[…]
I’ve been reading over the beginning of this diary. How vain and empty it all is – just nonsense and frivolous thoughts until troubles came my way… I hope to God we will have no more troubles – but joys and pleasures.”
On October 24, 1926, Lily is married. The entry in her diary simply says: “Wedding day”.
The next entry is a year and a day later, on 25 October 1927:
“Yesterday was a year since the wedding. I can hardly believe that I have been married one year [...] I feel so happy that I cried. It's nice to be married – I have such pride in every little thing and keep my home clean and bright. No babies... yet. Maybe some day – I’d like a sweet, cuddly baby..."
In January 1929 she writes:
“My baby is now three months old. She's the darlingest little thing. It is worth everything just to hold her in my arms and see her sweet smile.”
In March 1937 Annie gives birth to a baby body. A second boy is born in 1942 (she writes of his fourth birthday in her diary in 1946). In 1949 she celebrates her first son’s bat mitzvah and her daughter’s wedding.
Her last entry is in 1983:
"I am a great-grandmother! I can hardly believe it. [Her daughter's daughter has had a daughter.] She is a darling and so pretty bless her. So I have eight grandchildren and one great-grandchild. To quote my father – this is my profit and my joy... I love them all so much.”
Lily died a decade later, on 3 September 1993. She was 87.
* Lily isn’t her real name. Given the diary’s author (1905-1993) isn’t that long passed, I’ve agreed to change her name and anonymise some of the finer details she wrote about, to protect the privacy of her living relatives.
