What's normal? Depends

Local paper gave a snapshot of life in 1917

Old newspapers are great sources for discovering how people lived day-to-day in earlier eras. I picked a random date in the online newspaper archives hosted by the Volusia County Public Library to see what was going on: the March 16, 1917 edition of the Volusia County Record, "The People's Paper."

World War I was raging but the United States hadn't yet entered the conflict. (It would, less than a month later.) War news from abroad shared space with local updates about actions taken by the school board, county commission, and city commission. The latter two were heavily focused on roads and transportation.

Gems relating to domestic life were clustered on the then-called Women's Pages. They help us figure out, a century later, what was considered normal then. Almost all papers at the time had women's sections. They included tidbits about who was visiting whom, who'd vacationed and where, and who was recovering from illness. News about club meetings, gatherings, and outings shared one similarity that's long gone from society. Sewing, knitting, and other handwork was a regular feature of women's daytime get-togethers, no matter what else was on the agenda.

"Hints for the Seamstress" was one feature on the Women's Pages in the 1917 paper I reviewed. The hints, along with a handful of other items, were grouped under the heading of "What Women Like to Know."

If you'd like to know, here are the sewing hints:

• sit with both feet on the floor
• make sure light comes over the left shoulder
• don't let bright daylight splash onto the work itself
• avoid pinning work to the table or one's clothes
• keep a small tin of talcum powder within reach, and dust hands to keep the sewing work clean
• use the proper length of sewing thread - measure from shoulder to shoulder or from fingertip to elbow

I was a bit perplexed by the comments about avoiding bright sunlight and avoiding pinning the table or one's own clothes. But I was more befuddled by the next item the editors decided a woman would like to know: the ingredients of a sweeping compound.

Did women in 1917 wash floors less frequently than we do today? Why would you need a dry sweeping compound instead of a simple broom and dustpan? Especially a compound made from the following recipe:

Melt two ounces of paraffin wax and two quarts of paraffin oil over boiling water. Add six ounces of salt, five pounds clean sand, ten pounds sawdust and two ounces of oil of eucalyptus.

Where would you even store 15 pounds of sweeping compound? Closets were premium space in that era. Few people - at least not regular folk - had supply closets. 

Fewer still had walk-in closets, or whole rooms, in which to store clothing like the dress featured in the newspaper that day. It was strictly for "women with youthful figures," which actually meant young women. Age-appropriate attire was a way of life in 1917.

The dress shown in the newspaper photo was dubbed an afternoon frock. It was of navy silk jersey with a shawl collar and hand embroidery on the pockets. A row of buttons ran from waist to hem, which was ankle length. The frock's silk-fringe belt was considered a sign of spring.

It was definitely a dress best suited for a woman of slim build. She likely wouldn't have  guzzled the mulled cider made from the newspaper's recipe. The cook was directed to add "sufficient sugar" to three beaten eggs, then to slowly add boiled cider to the mixture. After stirring briskly, the whole mess went back into a saucepan to be heated almost to boiling. Then it was to be poured into serving glasses and dusted with nutmeg.

I can't get past the idea of combining eggs and cider for a mulled drink. To me, mulled cider is spiked with a hint of liquor. Or at least with wine. Which I might soon need after imagining what they were drinking in 1917.