|| Ain’t no wifey ||
What better way to describe rigid gender roles than the 1950’s. Gender can be described as the role we play in society. It describes the way we think, speak, act, dress and engage with each other. Certain things are described and masculine or feminine such as jobs or entertainment. Women were the homemakers and men went to work.
Their role was repressive and constrictive in many ways, they would spend every day running around their families. The perfect mother/wife would wake up in the morning, make coffee, lay the husband’s and children’s clothes out, make breakfast, clean the house, prepare dinner, listen to their favourite radio programme and then repeat the process. She was completely dependent on her husband.
When I was about 7 or 8 years old my parents got divorced, at the time I didn’t really know what was going on but as I got a little older I started to mature pretty fast and started to become very independent. I wasn’t kept in this little bubble anymore and had to deal with emotions in my own way. Being an independent person has always been a part of me.
For this particular challenge I decided to dress up as a typical 1950’s housewife and spend my day following their routine (including varsity)
I woke up and made coffee for me and my boyfriend, I then laid out his clothes for the day, made him breakfast and started to get myself ready for the day. I didn’t use any of my own money for the day, I had to ask my boyfriend and that was a serious challenge for me. I’m always too proud to ask anyone for money even if I don’t have any. I feel that if I ask people for money they will think less of me.
Throughout the day people starred at me because of the way I looked but if this was in the 50’s it would have been the norm. I felt trapped inside this perfect little housewife stereotype, it was like I didn’t have a voice to say anything. My day was painfully boring, I had to stick to the typical routine of a 1950’s housewife. I wasn’t able to do anything fun or go anywhere besides the shops and home. I then attempted to make dinner, which was a vegetable stir fry. It came out OK, and no there is nothing wrong with a woman that can’t cook. I sweated in that kitchen for over an hour to have my food eaten in two minutes. By the end of day I felt as if I hadn’t accomplished anything but cooking and putting on a fake smile for my boyfriend and people around me. All I can say is thank goodness i did not live in the 1950’s otherwise I would have punched someone in the face from being so bored or always being told what to do.