Hamilton, Madeleine: Our Girls: Aussie Pin-ups of the 40s and 50s. Arcade Publications, 2009. ISBN: 978-0-9804367-5-4
When I think of 'cheesecake' models, pin-up girls from the '40s and '50s, I ignorantly assume that they were desperate women. I imagine that they unwittingly participated in an industry that sought to idealise women unrealistically, as women without families, ambitions or personalities of their own.
Madeline Hamilton's new little book Our Girls has altered my assumptions of these women dramatically.
It follows the history of Australian pin-up girls, from before the war through to the dawn of the bikini. She offers us a glimpse into the world of the models' lives. Through their interviews and their letters, we develop a closer understanding of their personal lives, motivations and pride.
Hamilton asserts that due to the rigidity of the times, women who sought out swimwear modelling work were in fact 'trailblazers of the sexual revolution'.
Now, I'm slightly cynical about this 'sexual revolution', a revolution that occurred long before I was born. I'm grateful it granted both sexes unimaginable freedoms, and formed the basis of a much more equitable society. My dilemma is that it also seemed to open the floodgates for the commodification of female sexuality, something we plainly accept in our cultural lives.
Hamilton suggests that far from cowering to the reigning patriarchy of the day, pin-ups had to be daring, assertive and confident to work in that industry. They could certainly earn more money than they would otherwise, sometimes even more than the average Australian man.
They often met with resistance from their families. They seldom possessed plastic surgery-modified bodies, and were not digitally enhanced. These women were healthy, poised and radiant. They did it — the modelling — for a laugh, for adoration, and often for the independence it gave them.
Probably due to our great exposure to American popular culture, we associate the pin-up girl with the ambitious, young and naïve starlet baring flesh for fame. Hamilton reveals that the Australian experience was quite different. During the Second World War, women who featured in magazines for the diggers stationed in distant and inhospitable lands were often photographed in their work uniform while working in men's professions.
They were every-women. Beautiful with their youth and femininity, but not always typically 'sexy'. They played a vital role in building the esteem of desperately homesick young men on the battlefields, men who, although subjects of a liberal democracy, were expected to sacrifice their lives for their government.
Perhaps in representing the wholesome attractions of home life, the models provided the basis of patriotism required for these men to justify their great sacrifice. One admiring digger wrote to 'Sweet' June Myers, 'I feel like throwing in the towel at times and getting away from army life, but your picture reminds me of my duty to my country to protect our heritage and womenfolk. You are truly my inspiration.'
In another letter to a pin-up, Chas Leach, an Australian soldier wrote to Linda, 'Well Linda it is well over 12 months since I last saw the mainland, and life in New Guinea goes monotonously on. One has to reconcile himself to this deadly sameness of routine, day in and day out, by realising that the day will dawn again when a normal life can be resumed.'
Our Girls is full of this gut-wrenching stuff. One cannot help but take pleasure in the company of the girls and their personalities, their patience and compassion towards men they didn't know, but knew were in anguish.
After the war, pin-up models began to occupy a new space: post-war affluence and the birth of Playboy culture, the 'relentless celebration of high living' that was definitely manly and heterosexual but toyed with sophistication. Sex became a selling point, and so began the 'sexual revolution'. We (both men and women) became liberated by sex, only to find ourselves in the confusion of consumer culture sexuality where we now remain.
Our Girls is a nostalgic journey into a world where Australian women were celebrated for being fun, healthy and self-assured. The dimensions of their bodies were secondary to the confidence with which they presented themselves. I'm certain a handful of cellulite wouldn't have stopped them. Hamilton's writing is bright and personal, and the pictures, which are generously scattered throughout the book, are delightful.
Madeleine Hamilton will be speaking as part of the Debut Mondays series, the Wheeler Centre, Melbourne.
Ellena Savage edits the University of Melbourne University student magazine, Farrago.