Rachel Lynn Geiger
December 13, 1996
AMST 205 Sec. 0201
Project 3

Ann Neville was one of the original residents of Greenbelt. As a young child she remembers her mother's cosmetics and accessories.

Here is what I remember about makeup: lipstick, loose powder and pressed powder, rouge and nail polish.

Makeup was kept on the dresser in the bedroom, along with hairbrushes and hairpins, and all that "girly" stuff. As far as I could tell, grownup women wore lipstick all the time, and used powder and rouge whenever going beyond the immediate neighborhood. Some people wore nail polish and some did not. My mother did, my grandmother did not. Sometimes my mother would put nail polish on my toenails, but never on my fingernails. All women's purses smelled like powder. To this day I don't feel entirely like a grownup because my purse does not smell "right." Oddly enough, one of my daughters has purses that smell just like the grownups of yesteryear!

Makeup was available at the five and ten cent store, but I think my grownups got theirs at department stores at D.C.¹⁴

Louise Drazin, although not a native to Greenbelt, grew up in the Washington area. During 1938, she was living in Georgetown with her parents, Solomon and Rose Meyerson. From the age of eight, Mrs. Drazin still has vivid memories of her mother's makeup and hairstyle.

Really red lipstick with nails to match! That is what I remember the most about my mother's toilette from those days. She mainly wore "Elizabeth Arden" and "Charles the Ritz." I seem to recall her using both face and body power from Charles the Ritz in particular; the box was pink with a big pink powder puff to match, and boy, did it smell good!

My mother went to the beauty parlor every Wednesday morning before going to the store [the Meyersons owned a small department store in Georgetown, Edlow's, at the time.] She always went out with my father on Wednesdays so she wanted to look her best! Her hair was short, a "page-boy" was the name of the style. The hairdresser always put these waves in her hair, fingerwaves, with setting lotion so they would stay put. The setting lotion was this awful goop that came in a glass bottle. You would dip your comb into it and run that through your hair before you put your fingerwave clamps in your hair. It dried hard as a rock. Trust me, my mother's waves did not move until she washed her hair!

I remember going with her to the beauty parlor one day when I was not in school and seeing a woman getting a permanent. What a site! It looked like a metal monster was attacking this woman's head. Instead of using chemical solutions like they do today, you had metal curling clamps that were individually attached to insulated wires. The wires were attached to a big metal helmet, kind of like the old fashion setting dryers, only it was up high on a stand. Now imagine this, the hairdresser literally plugged you in! With electricity! I was scared half to death, I thought the woman was either going to die or be severely hurt. As a result, I never had a permanent until I was married.

I am pretty sure she kept all of her makeup on her dresser in the bedroom with her perfume, hairbrush, and comb. We only had one bathroom in Georgetown so my parents, my two brothers, and I had to share it. That was a lot of people having to wait around in the morning if my mother had to put on her makeup in there.

My mother mostly bought her makeup in department stores like Garfinkel's, Palis Royal, and Kannes, but she bought soap, lotions, and creams at the five and ten. "Quality is quality no matter who's name is on it," is what she always taught me. I still live by those words today.¹⁵