"This breadwinner will have to turn coal heaver before he gets his dinner tonight, so the sooner he starts gatheing winter fuel the better Artist Chittock has a theory about warm welcomes like this- it is not the best moment to remind a man of his responsibilities. But someone has to keep the home fires burning, and at six minutes to serving time cooks have other irons in the fire. The effort will seem worthwhile when he's basking in the glow- of a cosy wife's grateful smile."

John Bull, February 14th, 1959.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who is the fairest one of all? No doubt the husband with the Santa Claus chin would claim that he was- especially when his career girl wife takes advantage of masculine chivalry to try that new make-up technique straight out of the morning newspaper. And they both have to be at work by nine... But cover artist Larent has left him with at least one reflection- that he first promised to install a second mirror in the bathroom months ago..."

John Bull, December 6th, 1958

"Oh no! Just when he's helped bring home the hard won shopping. It's always at times like this that the dog in your life reminds you that he's not called Rover for nothing. "And" says artist "Critchlow, "it's no use trying the old excuse about having to see a man about a d...". The best thing this husband can do is take the lead- by telling his wife to get the lunch and produce the biscuits from that basket. Rover might settle for twice around the garden..."

John Bull, October 1st, 1958.

1890 (On December 20th at the earliest):

Father: What about the presents for the children, my Love? Are you shopping soon?
Mother: Yes, I thought I would drive into X tomorrow or Thursday and buy two dolls for the girls. I fear if they are nicely dressed they most cost as much as half-a-crown each. 
Father: Dear, dear! When I was a boy we should have only spent that on useful gifts. What about the boys?
Mother: The two elder ones want penknives, but I am so nervous about them. Unless you could pick up very blunt ones tomorrow?
Father: What about wooden skates? It looks as if the frost would hold: they're not expensive.
Mother (admiringly): What a good idea! And I have got two nice gay picture books for the little boys. I have got red flannel petticoats for all the maids, so if you tip John and the postman that will be all, till the gifts at the Parish Tea at the New Year. I'm afraid I may seem rather extravagant after your Mother, but after all, Christmas comes but once a year.

1930 (About December 18th):

Papa: What have you been doing? You look a wreck.
Mamma: Quite, quite too dreadful. the shops were all crowded, though it is so early, and I got so depressed that I went all extravagant. A. wants a wristwatch, and you know those cheap ones aren't very reliable, so I got him a silver one - for £2.00!
Papa: I had a five shilling one until I was twenty!
Mamma: I hadn't one at all till I was his age. Then B. wanted a model aerodrome because a boy at his school had one. I had to go all the way to Holborn, and don't ask me what it cost. And as for C, well I hoped to save by getting some nice ordinary boxes of soldiers, but he's longing for a set of Romans and Carthigans, and they were rather expensive because of the elephants. So tiresome of Hannibal to use them!
Papa: What about the maids?
Mamma: Oh they were very little trouble as they wanted fur ties, so I got them al in the High Street for £2 each, and they really look more. But then afterlunch I began buying presents for our relations (so many!) and friends too! It would be heavenly if we were rich, but as it is one does get a sortof squint from seeing nice things for seven and ninepence when you are determined not to spend more than three and elevenpence! I seem to have got through about £10.00 on silly little gifts they won't care for.
Papa: Then why send them at all?
Mamma: Because they send to me, and it's so sweet of them. But somehow more people seem to give each other more expensive presents every year!
Papa: (without conviction): Why not make a stand?
Mamma (ignoring this): So you see though I calculated on only spending about £15, I've blued £25 already and I still haven't got anything for Uncle.L and his gardener- (Like al bad shoppers by nature I was always obsessed by a wild search for the most difficult recipients; the two in question were non-smokers, non-drinkers, had no gramophone and liked no books but those of a mildly theological flavour. My eldest son always declares that he spent Christmas Eve with me, wandering up and down Bond Street in a last desperate search, but this is acrocryphal).
Papa: Well what shall I get for you?
Mamma: Oh lets cancel each other out and wait for birthdays. We maybe richer then and anyhow it's no fun to shop just now, and - and- we must economize somewhere.

1950 (to judge by the advertisements), November 1st:

Daddy: Well, well! Only thirty more shopping days to Christmas. what about it?
Mummy: I've got the lists ready, and here are the advertisements and the catalogues. I've marked this cocktail cabinet to give to you.
Daddy: Splendid! And this mink coat is for you, I suppose. Have you got Toby's toy motor cars yet?
Mummy: Yes, I've seen one and it's quite perfect. Good tyres and splendid brakes and the batteries are charged. And it's only £25! I must get this baby doll for Angela. It walks and talks and sleeps, and I don't think it should matter spending so much less on her- only £5.00, and she's so tiny.
Daddy: Good! What about our respective parents?
Mummy: This advertisement recommends Mediterranean Cruises- tickets for them I mean. And I thought perhaps this Christmas hamper for old Aunt Jane.
Daddy: Aren't you being a bit lethal all round. the journey would finish off our old ones and Aunt Jane would die of indigestion.
Mummy: Well the hampers have a special line for the Not So Young, and the advertisement says Southern Sun Prolongs Life. But there are lots of other ideas of course. For cheaper gifts for friends and business acquaintances they recommend cases of whisky.
Daddy: I wish I could think anyone would take the hint for me.
Mummy: Or a demand subscription on a Library or if you want to be an original, what about one of the electric gadgets that make tea and shave you in bed? Or this little bookcase full of Forest Face preparations. They are all in the five-guinea line and I've only about a hundred names on my list.
Daddy: (coming out of Advertisement Land with a sudden burst of realism): I say, what can we afford to spend on presents this year?
Mummy: (joining him): Twenty pounds at most.
Daddy: Well then, one way and another, don't you think we'd better start again!   

Winifred Peck, Home For The Holidays, 1955.

Amen to that Emma Bridgewater. You are a girl after my own heart, especially seen as we are clearly blessed with the same dreams....

Studies In Nerve Cures No: 1: They advised her to try Patience- "Such a soothing game!"

Studies In Nerve Cures No: 2: They advised her to go in for animals to keep her from brooding over imaginary troubles.

I have recently taken delivery of a large collection of Christmas Edition 1950's women's magazines and while perusing them for Vintage Housekeeping inspiration, it struck me that it is the letter page that is the most telling of it's time...the page that reveals most about the women, etiquette, and relative innocence of the era, while I suspect, showing us that the world really hasn't changed at all...

"I saw her at a sherry party: the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She was perfect, from her smooth gold curls to her dainty shoes. Her black dress fitted like a sheath and over one arm she carried a heavenly silver fox cape. This I thought, is how one should look, should dress. I moved closer and heard her saying to the man, "No, no, we won't be going away at all this year- too difficult to leave the hens."
E.W. Dublin.

"I'm a different woman now. Hubby's socks neatly darned (without a last minute plea from him), the Winters knitting taken from the drawer and completed, a library book read within the allotted time, hair carefully set at night, child in bed without fuss- and the reason? The televisions gone bust!!!"
R.C., Ilkley, Yorks. 

"At lunchtime I was sharing a table in a cafe with two ladies, who seemed to be well known to each other. One was very old and looked as if she had little comfort i life and few of this world's goods. Presently the other left, saying "Good Morning" to us. The little old lady then called for her bill. "But it is paid" said the waitress, "your friend paid it." "How could that be? I do not know her." She turned to me and I thought I saw tears of thankfulness in her eyes. "Well she has proved your friend hasn't she?" I said "And I know it has given her pleasure." I gave thanks that there are good Samaritans amongst us still."
D.P., Bristol.

"My Mother knitted my baby daughter a horror of a woollie- in old rose, bottle green and mustard. Two months later, I thought I'd better dress her in it as we were visiting Mother. Removing the child's coat, Mother said: "Goodness! Who on earth knitted that monstrosity?"
Mrs R.B., Kirkaldy, Fife.

"Noise from the neighbours may be tiresome, but I wish you'd try to think of it this way: The slammed car door noises may be the fault of the car manufacturers; the smoky bonfires were meant to flare out, burn the rubbish and then die quickly. One sometimes has to rev the car engine. The noisy door slamming inside was caused by a draught of wind. Have an inward when you hear your neighbours laugh loudly, and wonder what the joke is.
Perhaps the person who hammers in the evening has a very long day at work and is trying to build something that he can't afford to buy for his hardworking wife? Do find excuses for others, you'll be much happier... I know, I've tried."
Mrs. D., West Wickham, Kent.

"When my daughter first started school, I went along to meet her, and found a long line of children waiting expectantly. My child, a sweet look on her face, took me by the hand, and led me up to them, saying "This is my Mummy, isn't she lovely?". The children looked disappointed, because between you and me, I am a plain Jane. Though I have always seen the funny side of this incident, it brought tears to my eyes at the time."
A.M.W., Hastings.

Through bad luck, we have been almost stony broke; consequently, I have only been buying just enough food for husband, myself and two children. The other day- calamity!- we had unexpected guests to tea. In the cupboard was just enough bread for ourselves and a small tin of meat. We talked for a while, then I went to get tea ready. I opened the cupboard and behold! half a dozen tomatoes, a loaf and some biscuits! Staggered but overjoyed, I made quite a good meal. Afterward, the mystery was solved. My sister who lives down the street, had seen my visitors arrive, and, guessing my plight, sneaked in the back way while we chatted and did a fairy godmother act!"
J.W., Yorks.

If I ever drop by and find you dangling sausages from your fake Christmas Tree there will be trouble, do you understand? Because yes indeed, click on the image above and you will see that this darling little vintage advert suggests poking your Hor D'oevres or canapés on to the branches of this stunning centrepiece...

Everyone loves the Wonder Tree.

I was busy looking through my latest stumbles when it struck me that the last three images I have saved have all featured the same tealy green I would have once thrown scorn upon in favour of a much earthier olive.

Isn't it odd how your taste changes subtly over time?

I cannot ride a bike. I failed my cycling proficiency test because the lady in charge hit me when I refused to take my hand of the handle bar to signal and since then I haven't got back on a bicycle. Or a tricycle. Or even a little scooter. In fact I've got to the point where I can't even begin to imagine how it is possible to take my feet of the floor, balance my big bum on a little seat and sail off into the wind...

And now I'm a grown up I just think stabilisers would make me look silly...

But I'm so in love with the idea of riding a bike, though shamefully I have to tell you that this has got nothing at all to do with getting from A to B in an eco friendly fashion and absolutely everything to do with harbouring fantasies of myself swooshing down a hill, pink welly-clad legs in the air and a spotty skirt flying around my hips like a parachute. it is about visualising myself cycling to the flower farm and filling my floral lined basket with roses and arriving at the bakers, leaving my lovely little bike leaning against a canopied window and popping a french stick still warm from the oven into the basket with the flowers and no doubt, a string of onions.   

Don't worry I find myself as ridiculous as you do. Let's face it I haven't worn a skirt since I was six and even if I did own a bike as glorious as the ones the Electra Bike company make, by the time I'd made it to the flower farm in my dreams you'd probably have to call the paramedics to monitor my horrified heart.

Dear me. Must I harbour these ridiculously romantic fantasies? Well yes, I really think I must. Especially seen as the clutch in my car has died and it's World Car-Free Day today.

Perhaps I could get me a second hand bike, pretty it up (ideas please!) and accost a handsome stranger to teach me how to ride it?