Having been raised in a generation when Barbara Cartland was standard reading for teens and pre-teens, I spent many days and nights dreaming about ballgowns and jewelry, and Prince Charming. European-style, of course, having been influenced by Barbara Cartland. It was a phase I quickly outgrew after discovering that Perry Mason books were a lot more exciting than Barbara Cartland novels. Still, I loved visualizing pretty gowns, matching hats and gloves, horse-drawn carriages and waltzes. How I made the images fit in with Perry Mason, I cannot recall.
I still smile to myself when I remember those days. And I am constantly reminded of those fantasies with the oh-so-many quizzes I come across on Facebook about things like what era do you really belong to. Although I still adore watching period films with those gorgeous costumes (the photo above is a screen grab from “Belle”), I no longer have fantasies of living in the Tudor Age or even in Marie Antoinette’s Versailles.
It has nothing to do with feminism; it has everything to do with the toilet. If some kind of science-defying act will allow me to sample life in the past, I will choose an era after 1850 when the flush toilet came to widespread use. No latrines and chamber pots for me, thank you.