I still remember the magazine marketing campaign for Virginia Slims cigarettes with the lead phrase, “You’ve come a long way, baby.” The model was beautiful, fashionable, and slim, of course. Her facial expression exuded confidence, and she held the “slimmer than the fat cigarettes men smoke” cigarette between her delicate, well-manicured fingers, with hands on her hips, as if empowered to take on anything that may come her way.
As we celebrate International Women’s Day and the achievements and progress of women as a collective, we certainly cannot deny the rise in leadership, presence, power, recognition, and shifting attitudes. However, there is still a long way to go.
Thinking back on my childhood and the messages about women I saw, like the Virginia Slims ads, I did not doubt that confidence was crucial to success. I am grateful that I did not associate that with smoking, though admittedly, I did try it to emulate the sophisticated grown-up women I saw in the ads. Certainly, the image of tobacco has changed — no more ads at all, and the models on the cartons are now cancer patients.
The marketing campaign that stands out from my teen years is the Enjoli perfume television commercial. The actress sings, “I can bring home the bacon… fry it up in a pan… and never let you forget you’re a man ’cause I’m a wo—man…,” her outfit changing from a business suit to a bathrobe to an evening gown to correlate with each phrase. Then, a male voice says, “Buy her Enjoli, the 8-hour perfume for your 24-hour woman.”
These were the messages I grew up with telling me I could have it all, do it all, and be it all. And I knew from watching Leave It To Beaver, I Love Lucy, and The Honeymooners that indeed, women had come a long way.
Many of my generation attended university because we knew that higher education was a privilege earned, and having a career path involved freedom of choice, as did marriage and motherhood. All because of the women before us.
My first job post-graduation was with an airline as a Flight Attendant. After studying abroad to complete my university credits, I wanted to see more of the world. This job was a strategy to accomplish my goal —get paid to travel! The actual work would be welcomed as I always expected to earn my way in life. I also thought this would be a temporary job as I didn’t consider it a career. Turns out, not so many years prior, it would not have been an option.
Even though the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibited sex discrimination in employment, until 1968, Stewardesses, the job title until a more gender-neutral title was adopted, had to turn in their wings when they aged out at 32-35 (depending on the airline) or got married, whichever came first. Before this federal ruling that declared the rules discriminatory, many women attempted to conceal their marriages — and some even motherhood — or reluctantly gave up their jobs. They were forced to choose marriage and family’s potential over this career. At the same time, the small percentage of male Stewards were free from these marital and age restrictions. Targeted recruiting campaigns to women like this 1967 United Airlines slogan, “Marriage is fine! But shouldn’t you see the world first?” told us all that working the sky was for the single girl.
And that is exactly what I thought I would do. See the world, then, get a “real” job, get married, start a family etc., etc., etc. However, I loved to fly, and it showed, to borrow from a 1987 Delta marketing ad! I could make this a career, get married, have children, keep flying, or seek other opportunities in the company — my choice. I did all of that and ultimately worked 17 years in various roles before a job relocation for my husband was not conducive to my continuing at the airline.
Thank you, Stewardesses, who were among the first groups to petition against discriminatory hiring practices, specifically to Betty Green Bateman, who won a landmark case against Braniff Airways that made the industry’s no-marriage rules illegal. I had an extraordinary airline career while also nurturing a family.
When I think of how far we’ve come since those ads of the 60s, 70s, and 80s because of the women who sought fairness and reform, I can’t help but smile and also speak gratitude. My first marriage didn’t work out, and I am grateful for the right to divorce. There was a time when as long as a man provided food, clothing, and shelter for his wife, she was not legally allowed to leave him. By getting married, a woman lost rights to own property and became her husband’s property in many senses. Her legal identity was basically erased under what was called coverture. Prior to 1857, only men could petition for divorce, and even then, it was something exclusive to the wealthy.
Progress continued in this arena throughout the next century, permitting women to petition, but with the burden of proof of grounds that involved specific acts of the husband. It wasn’t easy for her to prove things like cruelty, rape, incest, drunkenness, insanity, infidelity, or abandonment, so many women stayed in intolerable situations, no doubt. By 1969, the Divorce Reform Act allowed either party to initiate without proving fault.
While there is still a long way to go, the 1996 British landmark case of White vs. White, which in appeal to the House of Lords in 2000, recognized the contribution of a “homemaker” for splitting assets acquired in marriage. Thank you, Pamela White. We’ve come a long way, baby; yes, we have.
In this mid-term election year, I also am thinking of the women of the early suffrage movement and giving us the right to vote., I will not take that for granted. I thank my paternal grandmother, Roberta Ensey, for showing me the importance of voting by taking me to the polls, where she faithfully volunteered every election. She was born in 1902 and had been the school teacher in a one-room schoolhouse in Odenville, Alabama. She was among the first generation of women to have career options outside the home, as limited as they were. She seemed to be a pioneer of sorts! She was 18 when the 19th Amendment passed in 1920 and had to wait until the next election to vote since the voting age was 21. She knew it was a privilege and never lost sight of that.
Thank you, Mamaw. I revere this privilege knowing my vote —my voice — matters because of you and those who came before you who fought and waited for that right.
This article is my thank you letter to legendary women, both known and unknown by me. You and your efforts on behalf of all women are seen, felt, and heard every day. Thank you for your advocacy, sacrifice, commitment, and determination to shift mindsets and open possibilities for those who follow behind you.
As I sit here cross-legged and typing in my comfy yoga pants and sweatshirt, I am aware that I am also thankful for lycra and spandex. Therefore, I also have to shout out to someone else from the early women’s rights movement of the mid-1800s. Thank you to Amelia Bloomer, who campaigned for dress reform. You see, she believed that women could lead better lives and be more beneficial to society in general if they were not restricted by tight corsets and heavy, layered skirts. Amelia, you were bloomin’ genius!
You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby!
