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A review by kevin_shepherd
Sex and the Single Girl by Helen Gurley Brown
2.0
In spite of the fact that Helen Gurley Brown’s cult classic was somewhat of a milestone in feminist achievement, there is still a lot here to dislike.
First, let me say that I can’t fault an author for “dated” enterprises some sixty years after first publication (1962). Brown had no way of knowing that things like green stamps and Fuller brushes and Val-a-Pak suitcases would go the way of the dodo.
And to be fair, her appalling attitude toward gay men came sorta vicariously, by way of the American Psychiatric Association who classified homosexuality as a mental disorder until 1973…
“…your most wicked and base thoughts—secret fantasies—even leanings to homosexuality, are not unusual and should not alarm you… This is the consensus of psychiatrists. Doing something about these thoughts and not merely thinking them is what makes you cuckoo!”
“How do you tell when a man isn’t a man? …If he has a male roommate and he’s over forty, there’s very little doubt about his sex. He’s a girl. How else can you tell? Homosexual men are usually tied in with their mothers.”
But beyond the homophobia, there is the fat shaming…
“I weigh 109, and people are quite snooty when I try to join a diet discussion… Fatties never give skinnies credit for any will power.”
“If you have potato-puff hips and a large stomach, it’s true you better stick with your best style, which is undoubtedly a tent.”
“…fatties and slobs are not in such hot emotional shape. They say that only when we love ourselves are we free to love anybody else.”
And beyond the fat shaming, there lies a patriarchal macrocosm…
“I think marriage is insurance for the worst years of your life. During your best years you don’t need a husband. You do need a man of course every step of the way…”
“…a job gives a single woman something to be. A married woman already is something.”
And if that’s not enough to stifle your Sex-and-the-Single-Girl sentimentality, there are the racist slurs; not the overt N-word slams (that would be too obvious), but rather the sly vernacular of the late ‘50s/early ‘60s—that era of back-of-the-bus segregation that waxes nostalgic inside every MAGA-hatted head. Her dog whistle is “Ubangi.” Ubangi, in Brown’s context, is a bigoted reference to the African women of Kyabé, a community made famous by the photojournalists of National Geographic who documented (exploited?) their tribal custom of lip piercing and lip distention with large wooden disks…
“Any unusual jewelry is a come-on, but it should be beautiful or you’ll look too Ubangi.”
“…junk-jewelry fanciers are so weak-willed! Just one more bracelet and a few more beads, and first thing you know every Ubangi in town is in a jealous snit.”
I’m not here to throw Gurley Brown under the cancel-culture bus. She did indeed advocate for the sexual liberation of women, even if the women she advocated for were primarily privileged and WASP-ish. One of my favorite reviews of this book referred to HGB as a “proto-feminist” - I think that’s appropriate. I also think that 2 stars is me being generous.
First, let me say that I can’t fault an author for “dated” enterprises some sixty years after first publication (1962). Brown had no way of knowing that things like green stamps and Fuller brushes and Val-a-Pak suitcases would go the way of the dodo.
And to be fair, her appalling attitude toward gay men came sorta vicariously, by way of the American Psychiatric Association who classified homosexuality as a mental disorder until 1973…
“…your most wicked and base thoughts—secret fantasies—even leanings to homosexuality, are not unusual and should not alarm you… This is the consensus of psychiatrists. Doing something about these thoughts and not merely thinking them is what makes you cuckoo!”
“How do you tell when a man isn’t a man? …If he has a male roommate and he’s over forty, there’s very little doubt about his sex. He’s a girl. How else can you tell? Homosexual men are usually tied in with their mothers.”
But beyond the homophobia, there is the fat shaming…
“I weigh 109, and people are quite snooty when I try to join a diet discussion… Fatties never give skinnies credit for any will power.”
“If you have potato-puff hips and a large stomach, it’s true you better stick with your best style, which is undoubtedly a tent.”
“…fatties and slobs are not in such hot emotional shape. They say that only when we love ourselves are we free to love anybody else.”
And beyond the fat shaming, there lies a patriarchal macrocosm…
“I think marriage is insurance for the worst years of your life. During your best years you don’t need a husband. You do need a man of course every step of the way…”
“…a job gives a single woman something to be. A married woman already is something.”
And if that’s not enough to stifle your Sex-and-the-Single-Girl sentimentality, there are the racist slurs; not the overt N-word slams (that would be too obvious), but rather the sly vernacular of the late ‘50s/early ‘60s—that era of back-of-the-bus segregation that waxes nostalgic inside every MAGA-hatted head. Her dog whistle is “Ubangi.” Ubangi, in Brown’s context, is a bigoted reference to the African women of Kyabé, a community made famous by the photojournalists of National Geographic who documented (exploited?) their tribal custom of lip piercing and lip distention with large wooden disks…
“Any unusual jewelry is a come-on, but it should be beautiful or you’ll look too Ubangi.”
“…junk-jewelry fanciers are so weak-willed! Just one more bracelet and a few more beads, and first thing you know every Ubangi in town is in a jealous snit.”
I’m not here to throw Gurley Brown under the cancel-culture bus. She did indeed advocate for the sexual liberation of women, even if the women she advocated for were primarily privileged and WASP-ish. One of my favorite reviews of this book referred to HGB as a “proto-feminist” - I think that’s appropriate. I also think that 2 stars is me being generous.