Clearly, weddings changed a lot over the course of the twentieth century. But you don’t realize just how much until you crack open a time capsule like the summer 1952 edition of Modern Bride, billed as “A Complete Guide for the Bride-To-Be.”
Ladies, you have no idea how much you need a toaster and an upbeat willingness to entertain in the furtherance of your soon-to-be-husband’s career. Also, acres of chantilly lace and nylon tulle. Cue up “Band of Gold” and let’s take a walk through the bridal styles of yesteryear.
For starters, today’s bridal mags are stuffed with advertisements for national fashion brands. Modern Bride, on the other hand, is full of ads for local stores, like the Halle Brothers of Cleveland, Franklin Simon (with stores on Fifth Avenue and Peachtree & Ponce in Atlanta), L.A.’s “Bullock’s Downtown,” and Schaffer’s Bridal Shop, of St. Paul, Des Moines and Omaha. Late, great department stores Bonwit Teller and Marshall Field’s also make appearances.
In terms of the fashions, “nylon” is used as a selling point with alarming frequency, and you will see not one single, solitary sleeveless wedding dress. You’d also be hard-pressed to find a birdcage veil, despite this being the golden age of decorative hats. There’s also an extensive spread walking brides through the subtle particulars of choosing a “truly formal” approach, as opposed to “highly formal,” “semiformal” or “semiformal on a summer day.”
There’s not a “real wedding” in sight. And since the magazine predates digital photography, much of the advice is dispensed via text, rather than mood boards. For instance, “petal tones” are offered for consideration “for your procession.” Visualize: “Petal frosted…white over layers of palest blue or pink for a young, danceable gown, the instep-length ideal for a garden wedding. The petal-pointed lace bodies releases a cloud of nylon tulle.” Can you even read that without imagining a hat-wearing grandee gesturing with a cigarette?
Good news, though: “Lucky are you, the summertime bride-to-be, for the world at its most benign presents you with a garden-to-sky vista of color to draw upon for your wedding scheme.” Even in the 1950s brides couldn’t escape those goddamn wedding colors.
But the magazine bills itself as a complete guide, so it’s not all just flounces and Juliet caps. There’s an entire spread on gifts with a “B.A.” — that is, bridegroom approved — as well as decorating advice including a lengthy explanation of different types of carpet. There area also several pages of everyday outfits, to help you assemble a “Summer Trousseau,” “for shipboard… traveling… and afterward.” Yes, please:
But the real corker is stapled into the magazine towards the back, on stern, heavy paper. It is “a book condensation of Preparing for Marriage, the guide to marital and sexual adjustment,” snuggled right next to an ad for honeymoons via Greyhound—”romantic travel, planned just for you.” It’s the work of Dr. Clifford R. Adams, a psych prof and “nationally famous Marriage Counselor,” and it is a time capsule.
There are your basic, giggle-inspiring anachronisms, for instance that a girl looking for a date will want a man “who may be a ‘catch’—perhaps a football star or a radio actor.” Then there are musings such as “Intelligence is importance only in a relative sense—relative, that is, to you.” To wit:
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