As much as New Year’s Day is a snore of a holiday for non-partying me, I love starting a new year. A fresh start, a new journal, a chance to start over. I’ve heard it said that the 20s don’t technically begin this year, but actually start in 2021. While there’s logic behind this reasoning, I’ll follow the crowd on this one and welcome in the 20s with everyone else. At the worst, I’m just getting an extra year of the 20s.
It’s surreal that it’s the 20s again. Not that I remember this decade from the 1900s but for some reason, it doesn’t seem all that long ago and I’m not sure why. It might be because my grandparents were born in the 1920s and I have a connection to the decade that way.
Or maybe it’s because it’s a decade from the past that we can relate to. There were huge differences from the early 1900s to the 1920s in every way, from transportation to clothing to technology. But think we can identify more with an era of cars, radios, and electricity than we can relate to the times of ankle length dresses and horse-drawn carriages just a few years earlier.
I also think that the 20s don’t seem long ago is because the 1920s are as accessible to us as present-day media. What started as a quick youtube search this week led me down a rabbit hole of countless fascinating videos from the 1920s. The first talking movie was made in 1927, after all.
I’m really excited to explore the life of a 1920s housewife this year and for the decade to come. When people think of the Roaring 20s, they usually think of the flapper culture and the loosened morals. They were a part of the decade, of course, but those were only subsets of the culture. It was a fascinating time in history.
I’m hoping that 2020 kicks off a renewed interest in the 1920s. So, as long as it’s the 20s….Art Deco everything, please! Suits for men, dresses for women, and elegant hats for all! Jazz and songs like “I’ll Be with You in Apple Blossom Time” and one of my favorites, “Stardust.” Sitting around the radio and dancing the Charleston. It would be the bee’s knees.
Twelve of Grandmother ‘s friends were invited and word was sent to them that they would be called for at half past two o’clock on Thursday afternoon. In the neighborhood lived a man who was the proud owner of an old white horse that could hardly ever be persuaded to hurry. He had, too, a comfortable surrey with low steps, exactly right and easy for elderly people to step into. Mother asked him to call for all the ladies and then later (after supper) to take them home, especially the ones who were not well and strong.
to their hearts—the things they used to serve long ago! There was pressed chicken and cold tongue, raised biscuit, pickled peaches, dainty little crullers, pound cake and quince sauce. They sat and chatted and sipped their tea as only dear old ladies can. After supper Janet read a story—one of Mary Wilkins’ best, The Parsnip Stew. Then someone suggested a song and the picture of those happy grandmothers leaning back in their rockers, singing the old familiar words, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot,” will be with me ever. Never was music sweeter and never did words come from happier hearts.
