Chapter 1
The Unmarried Woman: A Cultural History of Singlehood
In 1986, when I was twenty-seven and living contentedly in my rent-stabilized New York apartment with my cat "Py-Not," a Harvard-Yale study made headlines claiming women like me had better chances of being killed by terrorists than finding husbands after age thirty. This statistical bombshell transformed single women from individuals into a collective crisis overnight. The media frenzy that followed revealed our culture's deep-seated anxiety about unmarried women-a phenomenon that stretches back centuries. Betsy Israel's "Bachelor Girl" explores this rich history with both scholarly depth and personal insight, becoming a cultural touchstone for understanding female independence. When published in 2002, the book earned praise from feminists and historians alike, with Gloria Steinem calling it "essential reading for anyone who wants to understand how women's choices have been shaped and limited." Even today, in a world where Lizzo celebrates being "100% that bitch" while single, Israel's examination of how society has alternately feared, pitied, and occasionally celebrated the unmarried woman remains startlingly relevant.
Chapter 2
From Spinsters to Bachelor Girls: The Evolution Begins
The classical spinster emerged in 13th century France as "femmes seules"-unwed girls, orphans, and Crusade widows who earned respect spinning wool and cotton. Before industrialization marginalized them, these women were often successful traders and business owners. However, as marriage became increasingly central to social order, the unmarried woman transformed from respected worker to grotesque caricature. By the late 18th century, literary spinsters like Tobias Smollett's Tabitha Bramble were described in horrifying physical detail-"tall, raw-boned, aukward" with "greenish" cat eyes and "malicious, greedy" temperaments.
Early New England proved especially harsh toward single women. Puritans pushed women into marriage as a form of control, labeling unmarried women "spinsters" by 23 and "thornbacks" (named after ugly spiny fish) by 26. Without family protection, these women lived with respected households, performing chores while studying scripture, never leaving without escort. Outside New England, however, westward expansion created different dynamics-a scarcity of men in established areas and women in frontier territories. As British traveler Nicholas Crestell observed, America seemed "a paradise on earth for women" where the "ancient maid" was "seldom seen."
Despite societal pressure, a remarkable group of women embraced "single blessedness"-a term from an 1820 letter describing freedom from being "fettered to a different mold." These pioneers included the Grimke sisters, Florence Nightingale, Louisa May Alcott, and Susan B. Anthony, who recognized marriage's legal constraints under coverture, where wives essentially became property. They questioned the "Cult of True Womanhood" promoted by domestic feminists like Catherine Beecher, who suggested women should exert influence through subtle manipulation while maintaining moral authority at home.
For many educated women, their deepest relationships were with female friends-"smashes" that began at boarding school and continued throughout life, sometimes evolving into "Boston marriages" where two women lived as companions or lovers. By the 1870s, marriage rates among educated women dropped to 60 percent, compared with 90 percent in the general population. These women lived in an era celebrating intellectual and physical feats, making talented women acutely aware of their potential while facing stark realities about marriage: one in thirty women died in childbirth, contraception became illegal in 1880, and even loving husbands tended to domineer.
Chapter 3
Working Girls and Factory Maids: A New Independence
The industrial revolution created a new category of single woman: the working girl. Unlike their spinster counterparts, these immigrant "factory maids" and "Bowery gals" were crude, outspoken, and walked unescorted through city streets. By 1860, single working women formed a quarter of the U.S. workforce, with many living independently on meager wages of three to four dollars weekly.
Factory conditions were nightmarish-crowded workspaces, partial hearing loss from machinery noise, and physical injuries were common. Despite this, factories offered something invaluable: female companionship. Women sang together, shared gossip, read romance novels, and even organized strikes for better conditions, though male unions excluded them. The factory inadvertently became a place of cultural assimilation where immigrant women from various backgrounds learned to work together and appear "American."
The penny press became the medium that identified and mythologized these women through "urban sketches"-personal, chatty stories introducing unfamiliar city types to a curious public. Beginning in 1833 with Benjamin Day's New York Sun and continuing with Horace Greeley's Tribune and James Gordon Bennett's Herald, newspapers made the lone working girl a regular news beat. Many correspondents contributed-from middle-class wives visiting tenements to aristocratic "slummers." The frequent subject was the beautiful, suffering young worker-the industrial-era Sleeping Beauty-though serious reporters like George G. Foster conducted genuine investigations of factory conditions and immigrant life.
Young immigrant women lived in two distinct worlds-the outside world and the unavoidable one inside. Under strict family scrutiny, they faced constant questions about their whereabouts and associations. Writer Anzia Yezierska captured this generational battle in works like "The Bread Givers." Yet the situation wasn't simply rebellious daughters versus controlling parents-many immigrants wanted their children to assimilate while maintaining traditions. Young women learned to "want" and were willing to spend money on clothes to look "just like an American."
The early industrial era's "commercial leisure" created new freedoms and dangers. Girls who had spent their childhoods confined to neighborhoods finally ventured out but faced economic constraints as they earned little and were expected to give most to their families. This created a crude equation: boys had cash and would "treat" girls to outings, but after accepting multiple "treats," girls were expected to provide sexual favors in return. The infamous case of Lanah Sawyer illustrated this dynamic-after accepting ice cream and a walk from "lawyer Smith" (actually Harry Bedlow, a known rake), she was lured to a bawdy house and raped.
Chapter 4
Behind the Counter: The Shop Girl Experience
The shop girl's life was one of rigid control and subtle humiliation. Required to maintain specific facial expressions and postures, they were often viewed as unintelligent by customers who wondered why else they'd be standing there. As reformer Clara Laughlin noted, most girls didn't choose these jobs but drifted into them through necessity. They knew men had previously held their positions with more interesting responsibilities and customer relationships, while women were relegated to passive roles-simply recording sales without "urging" customers to buy.
Under constant surveillance by male managers and floorwalkers, they endured criticism of their posture, tone, and efficiency while facing entitled customers. One nineteen-year-old confessed her fantasy of leaping across the counter to attack a condescending customer, though she remained "always smiling, smiling, yes, yes." Beyond customer abuse, they suffered physical hardships-standing for hours without benches, eating lunches standing up, and most shockingly, working in stores without employee bathrooms.
Shop girls faced sexual exploitation through "treating"-a practice where bosses encouraged them to let men pay for their entertainment and clothes. As one girl told journalist Mary Gay Humphreys, she understood the barter concept but was "startled" by the implications: "If they expect this or that for an ice cream, what can they want for a hand-stitched shirt?" For entertainment, many attended "rackets"-massive public balls where "all unmarried womanhood" gathered. By 1890, thousands of dance halls stretched across lower Manhattan where shop girls traveled in groups of "lady friends" to dance wildly.
Despite management's complaints about "blue Mondays" when hungover girls leaned instead of standing properly, shop girls created a vibrant subculture within stores. They established "fairy days" twice monthly, when chosen "fairy queens" could "perform all mischief" while colleagues covered for them-sending anonymous notes to bosses or playing pranks on floorwalkers. Almost every department formed clubs for activities ranging from dances to self-help groups. They celebrated "un-birthdays" with "Halloween cakes" containing hidden rings (predicting marriage) or thimbles (forecasting spinsterhood), and published newsletters featuring intra-store romances and department celebrations.
For ambitious shop girls, office work represented a significant step up. With starting pay as high as ten dollars weekly and positions like sorting "clerk" or file "chief," office jobs didn't require militaristic standing and offered better treatment. The hierarchy culminated in the coveted role of personal secretary, chosen by the boss to move freely within the business's inner sanctum.
Chapter 5
The Quest for a Latchkey: Housing and Freedom
For all working girls, housing presented the greatest challenge. The latchkey-a 4-5 inch skeleton key-became a powerful symbol of freedom from the restrictions of boarding houses where women lived under constant surveillance. By 1910, an estimated 15,000 boarding and furnished rooming houses existed where girls were essentially on permanent parole, subjected to curfews and intrusive questioning.
Until the early twentieth century, apartments for single women simply didn't exist-they weren't considered trustworthy or financially stable enough to be tenants and were often suspected of prostitution. The breakthrough came in 1910 when the Trowmart Inn opened for "self-supporting girls tired of the tawdry lodging room," offering dormitory-style rooms for fifty cents weekly and private rooms for $5.50. Women under thirty-five earning less than fifteen dollars weekly could live there without providing references unless staying permanently.
The bachelor girl's newfound freedom manifested in simple pleasures: walking without scrutiny, lingering in restaurants, or sitting for hours in dimly lit teahouses. One might even converse with nearby men without maternal judgment, though mothers became a national stereotype in cartoons-holding back siblings or bent over war-room tables with Village maps. This generational conflict would only intensify over time.
Meanwhile, these independent women faced fresh condemnation, with Teddy Roosevelt directly targeting unmarried white women in his "race suicide" tirades. Despite legal restrictions (outlawed contraception and abortion, restrictive divorce laws), the true bohemian ignored the controversy while the bachelor girl felt compelled to acknowledge her "essential responsibilities" and "sacred duties." As the terms "bohemian" and "bachelor girl" blurred, these "B-girls" adopted short "Trilby" haircuts, wore sheaths or smocks, and embraced unconventional lifestyles-eating by candlelight, welcoming mice as dinner guests, and smoking freely.
Chapter 6
The New Woman: Intellectual and Independent
The "New Woman" of the early twentieth century represented a distinct, intellectually-rooted category of independent women. Unlike the bohemian or bachelor girl, she possessed elite feminist pedigree, typically attending college and sometimes male graduate schools. Many were suffragists (rejecting the diminutive "suffragette"), engaging in political agitation through hunger strikes or chaining themselves to the White House fence.
They pursued unconventional careers, advocated for dress reform and reproductive rights, and famously smoked in public despite its 1908 federal ban. Most notably, they politely declined marriage, and when they did marry, formed unconventional unions involving living apart or public affairs. Between 1880-1913, U.S. marriage rates hit historic lows with birthrates following suit, while divorce rates rose significantly. A 1902 study found that 53.3% of prominent women in Who's Who stated they would never marry, viewing it as a "profound disincentive" to serious work.
By 1914, younger women began to rebel against the serious, speech-giving "New Woman" who seemed old despite being only thirty. This generational divide mirrored the 1980s-90s gap between second-wave feminists and their daughters. The younger generation, born around 1895, had grown up with freedoms their predecessors fought for, leading to less appreciation for these battles. As one 23-year-old artist's model told Life magazine in 1923: "They get very angry if they sense you have an interest in minor things, in how you dress, not in political talk."
The early 1910s saw America gripped by fear of the "White Slaver"-a villain who kidnapped young white women, drugged them with chloroform or morphine, and sold them into prostitution. Headlines screamed "50,000 GIRLS DISAPPEAR YEARLY!" While hundreds of women were indeed trafficked, leading to investigations and the Mann Act prohibiting interstate transport of women for prostitution, the white slavery panic served multiple cultural functions. It represented punishment for single women "flaunting it" in public spaces, while simultaneously providing titillating sexual fantasies.
Chapter 7
From Gibson Girls to Flappers: The Single Woman as Icon
The first beloved single-girl icon of the twentieth century wasn't the bachelor girl or tea dancer, but Charles Dana Gibson's illustrated "Gibson girl," who debuted in a 1902 issue of Collier's. This fictional beauty became the official, polished trademark of new womanhood-classically elegant and feminine with china-white skin and a retrousse nose, yet strikingly athletic with well-proportioned shoulders. Her hair piled high created the illusion of greater height, while loose strands suggested she'd just returned from riding or tennis, displaying "calm mastery" of these activities.
What admirers loved most was "the manner in which she keeps her own counsel"-she rarely looked directly at suitors, instead gazing into the distance at possibilities beyond. The Gibson girl became a merchandising phenomenon, appearing on everything from china dishes to cigarette cases, inspiring look-alike pageants and contests. As single women gained purchasing power, she revolutionized advertising by providing visual shorthand for product values that previously required extensive text.
In 1920, as the suffrage amendment became law, the Flapper emerged as the supreme incarnation of the early-century single woman. More confident than the "1914 girl," she sported short, waved hair often covered by a cloche hat, wore tubular dresses with long beads, kohl-lined eyes, and dark lipstick (one popular brand called "Eternal Wound"). Unlike previous female youth groups defined by work or class, the flappers were democratic-anyone could join simply by adopting the look, vocabulary, and attitude.
By 1920, America had officially become urban rather than agrarian, with modern life accelerating everywhere, especially Manhattan. The flapper embodied this tempo shift-the first single woman to wear a wristwatch, drive cars, and use "revolutionary" products like tampons and tanning lotions. Advertisers recognized flappers as a distinct demographic with significant purchasing power, thanks to growing numbers of female college graduates and working women living independently before marriage.
The term "flapper" originated during World War I, possibly from the sound of unbuckled boots worn by female factory workers. By 1918, hundreds of films featured well-defined flapper characters, with actresses called "America's Pals"-girls just like the audience, except they had "It." As defined by Elinor Glyn, "It" was an ineffable quality combining adorability with cleverness-"One has IT or one does not."
Chapter 8
The Backlash: Sexology and Social Control
Sexology emerged as a conservative backlash against independent single women, combining elements of phrenology and eugenics to regulate sexual practices. Unlike the free-love concepts popularized by D.H. Lawrence, sexology classified "acceptable" sexuality as exclusively married, procreative, and missionary-positioned. Single women, presumed to miss out on intercourse entirely, were automatically labeled "frigid."
By 1925, sexologists estimated 40-50% of all women were frigid, with the highest rates among educated classes. They created elaborate classifications: 20% "cold," 25% "indifferent," 30% "compliant," 15% "warm," and just 10% "passionate." Women living alone were particularly blamed, with sexologist Weith Knudson claiming frigidity signaled "an inner negation" and "obstinacy" that "cancels the will to submission."
Walter Heape went further, labeling spinsters "waste products of our female population" and "vicious and destructive creatures" who might "snap entirely" like wounded dogs. By 1929, the "psycho-spinster"-a frustrated, vindictive harridan-had emerged as an American character type, described as haunting libraries, theaters, and schools where "little children day by day breathe in the atmosphere of her violated spirit."
Despite sexological warnings, young women still felt "a Ferris-wheel-at-the-top thrill" about single life. Sinclair Lewis captured this excitement through fictional characters like Carol Kennicott in "Main Street," who cycles through numerous potential careers before settling for marriage, and Una Golden in "The Job," who initially thrives in office work before establishing a real estate brokerage with her fiance.
The 1929 stock market crash abruptly ended this cultural conversation. Within six months, two million women lost their jobs, though public sympathy focused on men who had "lost their essential core of masculinity." Amid economic collapse, society's energy to scrutinize single women temporarily waned-but not forever.
Chapter 9
Depression and War: Changing Fortunes
The Depression era marked a hostile turning point for single women, who faced intense scrutiny and resentment. By 1932, twenty-six states prohibited married women from working, leaving single women as the primary female workforce-yet they faced constant accusations of "stealing jobs from men." Despite supporting families and enduring economic hardship, these women received little sympathy. The Depression dramatically altered life trajectories: many women couldn't complete college, a quarter never married, and birth rates plummeted to historic lows.
Depression-era culture portrayed single working women as "heartless"-cold creatures who stole jobs from men and rejected their natural feminine roles. Films like "Baby Face" (1933) showed Barbara Stanwyck climbing the corporate ladder by manipulating men, delivering the quintessential heartless-woman manifesto: "I have to think of myself... All the gentleness and kindness in me has been killed."
World War II temporarily transformed America's female population into a nation of singles. With men deployed overseas, women filled traditionally male jobs in unprecedented numbers. Defense factories saw a 460% increase in female workers, with 2.5 million women manufacturing everything from tank parts to parachutes. Professional opportunities expanded as women found positions in symphonies, chemistry labs, and even Harvard Medical School. Government propaganda celebrated this shift with films like "To the Ladies" and "Women of Steel," introducing the iconic Rosie the Riveter.
Despite 75% of working women wanting to keep their jobs post-war, by 1946 women had lost over a million factory jobs as returning veterans were prioritized. The brief celebration of female independence quickly gave way to systematic removal of women from the workforce, with government agencies actively planning "separation of women from wartime jobs."
Chapter 10
The Marriage Mania and Hidden Rebels
In 1950s America, marriage was the absolute norm, with magazines like Look celebrating domestic bliss while Good Housekeeping warned that former working women might damage their families by being "just a housewife." By 1951, nearly 60% of American women were married, with one-third wed by nineteen. The birthrate approached India's, with 97 of every 1,000 teenage girls giving birth by 1958. One pediatrician interviewed called these "the marriage-attack-from-Mars years" where being single on Saturday night meant literally hiding at home with lights off to avoid detection.
Despite the marriage mania rooted in postwar culture, thousands of middle-class girls temporarily postponed marriage to travel to Europe or move to New York for careers in theater, publishing, or dance. Starting around 1953, at the height of the "togetherness" movement promoting nuclear family centrality, reporters obsessively tracked the alleged rise of single women in New York City.
Mademoiselle's progressive 1956 piece "What's Wrong with Ambition?" provoked shocking backlash from married women who felt threatened: "These girls come back from a day in the outside world with something to talk about and what is that? Men." The 1950s saw over 300 pro-marriage books published in 1955 alone, with home economics textbooks teaching women 35 tasks to perform before husbands returned from work-from having dinner ready to minimizing noise and making him comfortable.
On 1950s television and film, single women appeared in familiar stereotypes. In movies, they were either recognizable spinsters (like Kim Novak in "Picnic") or quirky exceptions like Katharine Hepburn's upper-class characters or Judy Holliday's working-class "goils." The most famous single-girl franchise belonged to Doris Day, playing career women in feminine fields who were teased about their virginity-a practical choice for the time given society's sexual double standard.
Chapter 11
Sexual Revolution and Women's Liberation
By 1960, census data revealed a dramatic shift: 9.3 million households (18% of all homes) were headed by solo women-a million more than in 1950. While most were widows, nearly 2 million were divorcees, 900,000 separated, and most shockingly, 1.4 million had never wed. Marriage as a national ideal was losing its hypnotic force as divorce rates doubled and women began questioning their domestic roles.
The introduction of the Pill in 1960 revolutionized sexual autonomy-within two years, at least 750,000 American women were taking it, with 500 more starting daily. College women began openly discussing sex as "a possible and probable part of a single girl's experience," using logical arguments to support their choices: "With one hundred percent birth control you are not running the risk of hurting anyone by your behavior and therefore it is not immoral."
Helen Gurley Brown's bestseller "Sex and the Single Girl" presented singlehood as glamorous rather than pathological. Though Brown's vision still positioned the single woman as ultimately marriage-bound, she advocated a self-improvement "time-out" before matrimony that, combined with other cultural shifts, began to alarm male-oriented publications like Esquire, which became obsessed with the specter of "ball-busting new types" and a female uprising.
The "swinging singles" phenomenon emerged from a simple reality: young people were lonely. As families dissolved through divorce and corporate transfers, and young adults migrated to cities, traditional community connections disappeared. This spawned an entire singles industry, beginning with pay parties and mimeographed phone lists before evolving into more elaborate schemes like restaurants with table-to-table phones and "wash-a-terias" (laundromats serving drinks and playing music).
By 1964, entrepreneur Mike O'Harro had created a computerized list of 47,000 singles nationwide, organizing regional activities from Denver "woodsies" to New York rooftop parties. Grossinger's resort held its first singles weekend in 1961, and by 1965, the singles economy generated between $20-50 million annually. Manhattan's East Side transformed into "the singles ghetto," stretching from 30th to 90th Streets, where young women learned to navigate restrictive rental practices ("No one wanted to rent to three girls-three girls was a brothel").
Chapter 12
Modern Single Life: From Backlash to Acceptance
The 1980s and 90s witnessed a punishing literary assault on single women through books like "Otherwise Engaged," "A Lesser Life," and "Smart Women, Foolish Choices"-all hammering home the "biological clock" concept until it seemed like an actual body part. The dominant narrative insisted women had paid an enormous personal price for feminism, with singles facing either "an O.D. of Machisma" or "death by pathos."
Despite research showing single women weren't nearly as depressed as portrayed (only 4.1% versus 3.5% of married women), these negative stereotypes persisted, particularly influencing younger women who viewed their predecessors' choices with contempt. This led to a wave of "baby brides" who married young, only to discover unique tensions in their early marriages, particularly around domestic duties. As one 24-year-old lamented, "Others are having TGIF-fucking Friday and I'm having to vacuum because his parents are coming over."
The premiere single archetype of the new century is the woman who assumed she'd marry, pursued a career, had relationships, and then... life simply got busy. This "bemused slacker spinster" is exemplified by two iconic figures: Ally McBeal and Bridget Jones-imagine cross-pollinating the hyper TV executive from Network with Woody Allen's Annie Hall. What distinguishes these characters is their ability to find humor in unbearable social situations without becoming self-deprecating or snide. They experience emotions women are typically punished for-rage, pathos, lust-as natural parts of life.
The media refrain about single women remains stubbornly consistent: she can't really be happy, her life is barren, friends consider her a social exile, she's in danger when alone, and might miss motherhood. She is, as Trollope wrote, "blank, lonely and loveless," living "the long afternoon of unmarried life." This grim portrayal made for sorry copy that women once believed.
Through the 1960s, unwritten laws dictated where single women could go, when, and with whom-a unique system of "singular Jim Crow." But single life is no longer the "half life" it was once considered. While archetypes persist, real women defy them. The true appeal of Sex and the City isn't the romantic escapades but the deep friendship between the four women who push each other, tell hard truths, and never truly abandon one another.
A new generation may miss the cues of "single-illness" entirely-when shown Kate and Leopold, today's pre-teen girls questioned why anyone would choose the past over career opportunities, noting practically that "if she really went back to then, then now, when it's time for her real life, she'd already be dead." The single woman should live well in her own time, "on her own terms," without judgment. "There have been too many epitaphs for the single woman," Israel concludes, "and almost every one of them is pathetic. She is not."
