r-e-t-r-o-g-a-l
The December 20, 1942, LIFE magazine cover featured the “Lonely Wife,” a dramatic interpretation of the women left behind.
''Lonely Wife'' (portrayed by Joan Thorsen) here surveys with misgiving her new living quarters. Her husband has gone to war. She has moved from three rooms to one, kept his favorite chair, a few lamps, pictures to give the place a feeling of home.
''You come home from the station or airport or little gray ferry and it seems like a farewell to everything about life you love...Loneliness hits you quickly.'' The living room and bedroom are empty, desolate places. They also usually represent more rent than Joan, now a woman alone, can afford to pay. A smaller place will have to do.
His clothes are a problem. ''Selling a man's clothes is like burying him before he's dead.'' She advises keeping as many of his things as possible. Many wives who sell their husband's ''civvies'' justify it on grounds his clothes won't fit when he comes back.
Off to storage goes most of the furniture Joan is moving to a smaller place, partly furnished, on a monthly basis. Thus free of the burdens represented by a lease and household effects, it will be much simpler, if the occasion arises in near future, for her to join her husband at camp.
In the new apartment everything at first seems hopeless. There are all the essentials—the pots and pans, the few dishes and silver—to unpack as well as the picture, plants, books, which will help place seem like home to Joan and her husband when he gets leave.
Eating alone in restaurants or cooking for oneself is sad business. Delicatessen food eaten at home on no solution. ''Food needs male company. So you nibble and snack for week or two. But soon you find you must eat for health...so plan regular meals at home.''
Purely feminine is the satisfaction of messing through one's old clothes closet, trying on the once-lovely evening gown, making a hat with bits of flowers and veil. These are some of the ''pleasure of solitude...But there are nights when you go mad at the thought of a drawer to straighten.''
The friendly neighbor, whose companionship would mean nothing to a self-sufficient young married couple, is welcome now that Joan is alone. These two women understand each other as both their husbands are in armed forces.
Cover by John Phillips.
The December 20, 1942, LIFE magazine cover featured the “Lonely Wife,” a dramatic interpretation of the women left behind.
''Lonely Wife'' (portrayed by Joan Thorsen) here surveys with misgiving her new living quarters. Her husband has gone to war. She has moved from three rooms to one, kept his favorite chair, a few lamps, pictures to give the place a feeling of home.
''You come home from the station or airport or little gray ferry and it seems like a farewell to everything about life you love...Loneliness hits you quickly.'' The living room and bedroom are empty, desolate places. They also usually represent more rent than Joan, now a woman alone, can afford to pay. A smaller place will have to do.
His clothes are a problem. ''Selling a man's clothes is like burying him before he's dead.'' She advises keeping as many of his things as possible. Many wives who sell their husband's ''civvies'' justify it on grounds his clothes won't fit when he comes back.
Off to storage goes most of the furniture Joan is moving to a smaller place, partly furnished, on a monthly basis. Thus free of the burdens represented by a lease and household effects, it will be much simpler, if the occasion arises in near future, for her to join her husband at camp.
In the new apartment everything at first seems hopeless. There are all the essentials—the pots and pans, the few dishes and silver—to unpack as well as the picture, plants, books, which will help place seem like home to Joan and her husband when he gets leave.
Eating alone in restaurants or cooking for oneself is sad business. Delicatessen food eaten at home on no solution. ''Food needs male company. So you nibble and snack for week or two. But soon you find you must eat for health...so plan regular meals at home.''
Purely feminine is the satisfaction of messing through one's old clothes closet, trying on the once-lovely evening gown, making a hat with bits of flowers and veil. These are some of the ''pleasure of solitude...But there are nights when you go mad at the thought of a drawer to straighten.''
The friendly neighbor, whose companionship would mean nothing to a self-sufficient young married couple, is welcome now that Joan is alone. These two women understand each other as both their husbands are in armed forces.
Cover by John Phillips.