Jean Harlow, tragic blonde bombshell, died only 2 years after this article was printed. In 1937, kidney failure took her at the ridiculously young age of 26. “Jean” was actually her mother’s name, she was born with the very original name of “Harlean”.
Jean Harlow, 1930
This woman knew a strong look when she saw one, and here she is discussing something close to my heart, the joy of wearing black, which looked exceptionally striking against her platinum blonde hair. The intricately-described outfits sound like the most dizzyingly perfect of 1930s creations. This is from The Gloucester Citizen, which also published Katharine Hepburn’s Beauty Tips.
The Gloucester Citizen, 7th May, 1935
“Newer and more original colours may come and go, as fashion predicts, but black, in so far as I am concerned, is always first favourite. There was a time, of course, when blonde-haired girls carefully avoided black for summer and springtime wear. But clever draperies, cool accessories, and diaphanous materials have succeeded in making black look as cool, if not cooler, than its pastel and white competitors.
In fact, cooler – because nothing looks more ungainly to the eye on a hot day or evening than a rumpled, soiled gown that started to a social function or on a shopping jaunt, as fresh as a flower, and will inevitably return “dashed” looking, and with its owner in a “dashed” temper because she knows she is not looking her best.
Here are descriptions of three of my favourite additions to a Springtime wardrobe. The first is that enviable possession – an evening gown. Of sleek, heavyweight crepe de chine, the long, slim skirt flares out at the hem, which is only half an inch from the ground, and ends in a tiny train. The “top” or jacket, which is waist-length and is attached to a stitched belt of its own material, is covered with gleaming paillettes, which look like jet “bugles”, but are actually manufactured from cellophane and are much more durable than bead trimming.
Sleeves are elbow-length and again trimmed with the paillettes. A long, turn-back collar has a daringly low V-shaped décolletage. This creation can be worn with an evening hat, a toque of dull crepe with a design of the paillettes sewn on at one side and decorated with tiny wisps of paradise.
Then for the “little occasion”, there is long, sleek gown on crepe romaine or heavy georgette, over a white satin slip. A bloused effect, rather high-waisted, and with plenty of fullness, has tiny pleats each side. The sleeves are composed of sets of minute pleats drawn into a tight cuff at the elbow, finished with a turn-back fold of white silk pique. A high-cowl collar, with a fold of the white silk pique next to the face (for a youthful look), dwindles away into nothing at the back but a set of crossed-over “braces” of the silk pique. The skirt is long and narrow and affects no fullness until it gets to below the knees, when it frivolously flares out round the feet.
For afternoon wear or a game of bridge comes a gown as austere as a man’s. Fashioned from very fine wool crepe de chine, the whole garment is simply a series of cartridge pleats. A long finely pleated gown from shoulder to bottom hem line, drawn in at the neck line with a silver cord, and at the waist line by a beaten silver belt of Russian design. Voluminous sleeves, cut high on the shoulder line and drawn in at the wrists with tiny silver cords. No jewellery or embellishments but one thin strand of seed pearls around the neck.
Three black thoughts, but elegant ones, I can assure you.”
“Disgusting charge against a lady” runs one of the headlines regarding “The Black Beetle Pie case” of 1863, and that just about sums it up.
Whilst fruitlessly looking for more information about the real Dr Frankenstein of 1863, I came across this riotous story. Dashingly-dressed Mrs Elizabeth Wilton of Brixton was charged with making a pie filled with black beetles and then giving it to her servant to feed to next-door’s coachman, for some reason. The unfortunate recipient of the pie, Edward Gardiner, “swallowed six or seven mouthfuls, but finding the taste exceedingly unpleasant, he looked and saw that the pie was filled with black beetles.” A mere six or seven mouthfuls to find that out?
Mrs Wilton said she’d made it “for a lark” but was charged with “intent to aggrieve and annoy” Mr Gardiner. She claimed she never thought he’d actually eat the thing and he would realise immediately it was a joke – but hang on, she’d not only filled the pie with beetles, she also put 30 grains of gamboge in it too. Gamboge being a yellow tree sap used as a laxative, the addition of which would seem to be unnecessary if it wasn’t intended to be eaten. Mr Gardiner said “…it was nasty stuff resembling mustard, but it was not mustard.” He took the uneaten pie to the police station, where the sergeant on duty said “…anything more filthy and disgusting he had never seen. The stench was so intolerable that he had to open all the Station-house windows to get rid of it.”
Her pie-madness didn’t stop there however. The article goes on to say that she voluntarily brought a new pie to the police station, “intended for sale at a bazaar, but which she wished to leave for approval.” I think we can guess what was in it, but it was even stranger than the first one. Inspector Smith decided to investigate and found inside “a painted toy pear quite full of black beetles.” Where was she getting all these beetles from?
Newcastle Daily Journal, 22nd June 1863
The case was briefly notorious, with crowds outside the court shouting “Who made the black beetle pie?” and inside “the court was crowded to suffocation”.
Somerset Western Gazette, 4th July 1863
The court heard that Mrs Wilton had had a dispute with this neighbour, on account of the bands she engaged to play loud music at her house two or three times a week until the early hours. She had also been spotted throwing bricks at the neighbour’s windows. One of the articles mentions that she also baked a pie for one of these bands, but this time instead of beetles it contained ladies knickers, which the performer put on and then proceeded to dance in front of her door for a bit.
Somehow she got off the charge, her practical joke defence having worked.
Cheshire Observer, 11th July, 1863
However, “the crowd in front of the court was so immense, and the feeling against her so strong, that it was not considered safe for her to leave. She in consequence felt it prudent to send home her carriage and take her station in the gaoler’s room, where she remained with her friends, and having been supplied with some creature comforts, departed in an hour in a street-cab, accompanied by a stylish young man, and thus ended the black beetle pie case.”
Exeter and Plymouth Gazette, 10th July 1863
Exeter and Plymouth Gazette, 10th July 1863
Exeter and Plymouth Gazette, 10th July 1863
And yet it wasn’t the end, quite. She got into trouble again a month later, for getting drunk and knocking off a policeman’s hat. Which ranked extremely highly on the shocking crime scale in 1863. Asbo-material, she was.
Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper, 23rd August, 1863
One thing continually mentioned in the reports is that she was Mrs Elizabeth Wilton, “alias Hyde”. Well, if you’re going to have an alias, isn’t Hyde the best one to have? However, this was 20 years before “The Curious Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde” was written. In my imagination, a 13-year-old Robert Louis Stephenson read the widely circulated reports of this case, and the alias of a madwoman stuck in his subconscious mind.
I was delighted to find out after reading all this that there was a folk song written about Elizabeth Wilton. Of course there was. And even more delighted that a version of it, Black Beetle Pies, was recorded very recently by Bellowhead – see below. It reminds me of brilliantly strange circus music, and that’s just about one of my favourite things.
Bellowhead’s John Spiers said of the song “It’s about this woman who set herself up as an altruistic helper of the poor. So she started her own soup kitchen and boarding house, but despite appearances to the contrary she had complete contempt for the people she was purporting to help and would put all sorts of horrible things like black beetles into their food to see how hungry they were.” I’m guessing this was a fictionalised version of the truth, or at least I can find no mention of this particular angle on The British Newspaper Archive. But then again, I wouldn’t put it past her, quite frankly.
An article on “Chest Development” from Herald of Health magazine, 1910. It includes quite an alarming depiction of exactly what happens to those poor internal organs when subjected to the tight lacing of regular corseting.
“The conventional mode of dress in women, with constriction of the waist, is one of the greatest of all factors in the general decadence in physical vigour so apparent in women of the present day.”
Spinal curvature, liver deformities, weak back and stomach muscles, pelvic congestion, the internal organs being unable to fulfil their functions and blood not circulating properly…..Just some of the agonising-sounding effects of the fashion for tight corsets.
“Vicarious Menstruation” – was there ever a headline that so should be the title of a Carcass song?
Here’s some Victorian cases of vicarious menstruation – that is, bleeding from other parts of the body instead of, or during, a period. I have heard of women getting nose bleeds just before their period starts so perhaps there’s something in it – the capillaries become more permeable around this time, which could explain it. There were more untreated infections around in the 19th century as well, so possibly weaker immune systems could make this more likely, however bizarre it sounds. All these cases are taken from the Dublin Medical Press.
A woman suffers bleeding on her shins during her period – it sounds like this could be leg ulcers affected by the more permeable capillaries. Dublin Medical Press, 2nd April, 1851
This is an odd one. The patient had never menstruated, but suffered many pains and strangely, discovered small, white, gelatinous balls coming from her bladder, uterus, stomach and rectum. Then “glairy matter” came up from her stomach, she vomited blood infested with roundworms, and also found roundworms in her vagina. Poor cow.
Incidentally, this is the definition of “glairy”: having a slimy viscid consistency suggestive of an egg white, “cough productive of glairy mucoid sputum” —Journal of the American Medical Association. Glairy mucoid sputum – we’re back to Carcass again. Dublin Medical Press, 4th February 1852
This woman bled from her toes. All very strange…. Dublin Medical Press, 1st October 1856
I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything like this. Anyone?
An advert from 1892 for Mellin’s Food Biscuits, biscuits that could be used for weaning babies, or given to the infirm. They were marketed as a replacement for mother’s milk, and were made from cows milk, malt flour and and wheat.
The Graphic, 6th February 1892Mellin’s Food Biscuits
I was intrigued by this testimonial, by an Alice Liddell. Surely not “Alice in Wonderland” Alice? But no, that was her maiden name, she was Alice Hargreaves by marriage, after marrying the cricketer Reginald Hargreaves.
Incidentally, I love these two pictures of “the” Alice Liddell, at the ages of 20 and 80. She looks like she was a fascinating lady. Alice aged 20
Oh, naughty Persil! Now I suppose showing just how brightly Persil washes your whites in a black and white advert is a bit of a tricky problem. But look what they’ve done – cut out the nurses apron and hat and replaced them with a bright white background and unrealistic drawn-on creases.
And that’s before we get onto the issue of whether a woman, having just given birth, should be worrying about the whiteness of her wash anyway…
From the Gloucester Citizen, June 26th 1933, comes this little piece – “Beauty Tips by Katherine Hepburn (The Film Star)”. (Spelt wrong)
Gloucester Citizen, 1933
“Make a point of going to bed at least once at week at 9.30 or before…” – oh, I so need to start doing that.
In fact, it all sounds good to me. Sensible stuff. And anyway, who am I to argue with the mega-cool original Hep-Kat? (Is that already a nickname for her? It should be.)
This is one look she had in 1933. Dressed as a moth for the film Christopher Strong. I’ve never seen the film, but now I feel I need to see this costume in some kind of context.
“Even the most fastidious woman may cause embarrassment to others at certain times,” according to this 1937 advert for sanitary towels. Hooray for Dr Van de Velde and his “Vanderised Towels”, then. Wouldn’t want anyone to be embarrassed by us, would we?
Having said that, I am in favour of no chafing if that was previously a danger, pre-Vanderisation.
I’m presuming they’re using the word “prophylactic” as meaning “disease-preventing” here. Otherwise, it’s quite an impressive claim.
I’ve got this rather interesting little thing – an Oxford Probate Registry document for a Mrs Elizabeth Robinson who died on 25th March 1919 without leaving a will. I find it fascinating for a couple of reasons.
Firstly, she lived in Buckingham, which is where my family lived until a few years ago, and where I went to school. She lived at 20 Church Street, to be precise, and that house is there still.
But the second point is something that dates this to a very specific time – wartime conditions attached to the probate document. Her estate was duly passed to her husband, Charles Robinson, but with a little note inside stating that:
“This grant is made on the condition that no portion of the assets shall be distributed or paid during the War to any beneficiary or creditor who is a German, Austro-Hungarian, Turkish or Bulgarian subject, wherever resident, or to anyone on his behalf, or to or on behalf of any person resident in Germany, Austria-Hungary, Turkey or Bulgaria, of whatever nationality, without the express sanction of the Crown, acting through the Treasury; and if any distribution or payment is made contrary to this condition the Grant of Probate or Letters of Administration will be forthwith revoked.
Upon an application to the Solicitor to the Treasury there will be no difficulty in proper cases in obtaining the sanction of the Treasury to the payment of a moderate sum out of assets to beneficiaries or creditors who are German, Austro-Hungarian, Turkish or Bulgarian subjects resident in this country at the commencement of the War and during the War.”
I thought it was a bit odd to include these conditions of wartime in 1919, but, then again, the Treaty of Versailles was only signed on 28th June 1919. At this point hostilities between Germany and the Allied Powers were finally formally ended (only to begin again, in a different way, in reaction to such a draconian settlement).
A quirk of dates is that this document is dated 2nd July 1919, after the Treaty was signed, and so maybe it was one of the last to contain these conditions of war?
OK, what? A peculiar and devastatingly under-explained little article from The Mirror, 1937.
The Mirror, 1937
This article reminded me of Tod Browning’s Freaks, the controversial 1932 cult horror film, which depicted the dying days of the freakshow. On account of its cast being real sideshow performers and its shocking plot, it was banned in the UK for 30 years. My favourite member of the cast is the “Half Woman-Half Man” played by the very cool Josephine Joseph, who claimed to be exactly split down the middle, gender-wise. The split-in-two depiction of a hermaphrodite was one of more popular types of sideshow “freak”, and was apparently mostly performed by males, who would exercise one half of their body and leave the other “female” side to go flabby and “moob up”. After ensuring you had two different hairstyles on either side of your head, you were away.
Josephine Joseph in Freaks, 1932
Now, this is where I get a bit excited. While writing this post I was suddenly overcome with curiosity about Josephine Joseph’s life. But….well, there’s hardly anything online at all. All I really found was that on Wikipedia, it’s claimed that she/he was 19 in Freaks, born in Austria, and was 5’6. That’s it! No one seems to know anything more – her/his real name, death or even if she/he were really a man or woman. Although some online commenters are pretty sure that J.J. was a man, in line with the tradition of such performers.
Me, I’m 100% convinced she’s a woman, and a pretty foxy one at that. I’m also rather sceptical of the claim to be 19 years old in Freaks. She looks a fair bit older than that to my eyes. And that was before I dug up something quite interesting in the British Newspaper Archive. Even more excitingly, it’s local to my part of the country too, the North West of the UK.
Now, the British Newspaper Archive doesn’t show up on Google searches as it’s a subscription service. And seeing as I’m newly armed with a month’s unlimited browsing, I decided to have a peek.
I found a rather intriguing article about a “Half Woman-Half Man” sideshow act called Josephine Joseph, who was the defendant in what sounds like a quite sensational, yet obscure, case in 1930. J.J. and her husband George Waas were an American couple who had been running a show at a “Coney Island” attraction in Blackpool. Their poster read:
“Josephine Joseph. Half Woman. Half Man. The most sensation freak of nature. Brother and sister in one body.”
J.J.’s name is given officially as Josephine Waas in the newspaper articles. They appeared before Blackpool Magistrates on August 22nd, 1930, charged with false pretences and conspiracy in order to “protect the gullible public” who paid to see their show. Brilliantly, the headline wearily calls this “Another Half Man-Half Woman Case”. You can’t move for them.
Before I get into the nitty gritty of that case, just for fun, let’s have a quick detour around the world of August 22nd 1930, as seen by the Lancashire Evening Post. It was in this issue that Princess Margaret’s birth was announced. It also reported on the birthday of Mrs Tackley, a 96-year-old woman who thought modern women’s dresses that showed their knees were “disgusting” and that there was “too much electricity about.”
Lancashire Daily Post, August 22nd, 1930
There was the death of William Henry Townsend, the would-be assassin of Victorian Prime Minister Gladstone – who couldn’t go through with it because Gladstone smiled at him. He was still banged up in Broadmoor for the rest of his life though.
Lancashire Daily Post, August 22nd, 1930
Vimto is marketed as an energy drink for boxers:
Lancashire Daily Post, August 22nd, 1930
And cottage cheese is advertised as a way to keep policemen “nobby”:
Lancashire Daily Post, August 22nd, 1930
Right, so back to Josephine Joseph. I think I know why this is piece of information has been left uncovered so far. The story was covered in two, local, newspapers – The Lancashire Daily Post and The Yorkshire Post – and it wasn’t a big trial that might have attracted national interest. Although the British Newspaper Archive is largely local newspapers so I’m not sure what national coverage this got, if any. George and Josephine complain about being summonsed only the day before and having no time to prepare a defence. They also apparently left the country immediately afterwards. Plus, J.J.’s big claim to fame in the movies was scuppered recognition-wise as Freaks was banned for so long.
Here’s the full article in the Lancashire Daily Post, and also a shorter version from the Yorkshire Post:
Lancashire Daily Post, 22nd August 1930
Yorkshire Post, 23rd August 1930
And here’s some close ups of the first article so it’s easier to read (although a bit awkward because of the columns):
Lancashire Daily Post, 22nd August 1930
Lancashire Daily Post, 22nd August 1930
Lancashire Daily Post, 22nd August 1930
Lancashire Daily Post, 22nd August 1930
It sounds quite riotous. They refuse to submit Josephine to a court doctor’s examination to prove hermaphroditism, but offer to provide X-rays to the court instead, given an adjournment. The adjournment was refused and the X-rays rejected as evidence without even being seen. A shame; I would have loved these, possibly doctored, items to still be available somewhere.
“Josephine Joseph” sounds a lot like a pure stage name, and there’s no photographs attached to the articles. But what makes me absolutely sure this is the same woman in Freaks are the descriptions of her in court. She is said to be a man on the right side, and a woman on the left, with her right arm longer than her left. Her eyebrows were different on either side. The Yorkshire Post article describes her stage costume as a bare right leg with a sandal, and a black-stockinged left leg with a woman’s shoe. Finally, her hair was brushed from the right side to the left, giving the impression of short hair on the right hand side. Now look at this picture of J.J. as she appears in Freaks two years later. Every point is the same:
Josephine Joseph in Freaks, 1932
Ultimately both pleaded guilty, the conspiracy charge was dropped and the show was ordered to be stopped immediately. Interestingly, only George was fined £25, while Josephine was discharged despite also pleading guilty. That seems quite unusual, but maybe she cast a bit of a spell on the courtroom. She sounds like a cool customer – it’s noted that she was smiling broadly when the verdict discharging her was announced, to some surprised murmuring in court. And there’s this exchange with Superintendent Hannan as he announced what he thought of Josephine’s physical attributes:
Superintendent: “I have no idea what the medical testimony may be, but I do say this, that the woman so far as I know does show to the public certain muscles on one side of her body which are more developed than those on the other side. She also has a male voice and a female voice. She may be without breast on one side, but this does not make her half man and half woman, as it can be brought about by operation or by physical exercises. Muscles can be developed on one side of the body and not on the other.
Turning to the woman defendant, the Superintendent remarked, “I see she is smiling.”
The Woman, “Can you stretch bones, Superintendent?”
There was laughter in the court and the Superintendent did not answer the question.
In the end, rather than submit to trial by jury in Preston, George Waas states:
“I want to plead guilty and get it over with. You are not going to crucify me entirely, are you? We both plead guilty.”
Asked if he anything to say to the magistrates, Waas replied, “I am sorry. I will give up this show and leave the country.”
As a postscript, I might have uncovered a bit more information on her life, but it’s not conclusive. Searching ancestry sites for George and Josephine Waas comes up with nothing that seems to be of a relevant time period for a Josephine. But there’s something very promising for George, and, after all, Josephine was probably a convenient stage name anyway. These are the details from the 1930 US Census. A George Waas was married to Betty Waas, and they later ended up in Los Angeles. Betty Waas was born in 1897 in Romania, and if this is our Josephine, that would make her 35 in 1932, a more realistic age for the performer in Freaks, in my opinion.
So there it is. A little light hopefully shed on a largely unknown life. I believe that Josephine Joseph definitely was a woman – or possibly of intersex gender, but not a man anyway, if she was indeed married to a man. And quite possibly she was really called Betty Waas, Romanian, and aged 16 years older than Wikipedia thinks. And this is where I came in – the title of the unrelated little article at the start of this post now seems to fit my findings pretty well, in the end.
I’m off to fiddle with Wikipedia and think about what a great film this could make. I can’t imagine anyone but Reece Shearsmith as the lead role. Wouldn’t he be amazing in it?
And, lastly, here’s Josephine herself, as she is in Freaks. Well, any excuse to post this – always and forever one of my favourite things on the Web, Ricardo Autobahn’s The Golden Age of Video:
