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Letter to her mother discussing plans to alter their suits; describing job hunting, a concert and dance with Worcester Polytechnic Institute (Worcester Tech); and berating her grandfather's treatment of her mother.


4/7/35 [6 April, 1935] Sat. P.M. Dearest, Well, I can't seem to settle down to my novel---have wasted an hour or so just thinking about it and about how springlike it is outside, and how I don't want to get going on the thing, and of how I have to. Ah well, it's about time I said hello to you too, so I'll come back to it refreshed! First about the suit. I think it's very sane idea of the skirt fits me--so simple it's a wonder we didn't think of it before. If you want light blue and I want dark, I think that's the obvious solution. Only I'd have to see the skirt and try it on to see if it would be O.K. Did you mean the lapin collar? I'd hate to spoil it and any way for taking in the skirt, I mena [mis-spelling: mean]. Can you wear mine all right? That was taken in, you know, so maybe you could let it out. If it's going to be too much trouble, I'll just wear mine as it is. But as long as yours has to be dyed anyway, you might as well send it and I'll have Mrs. McGuire see about it. Then get the commission on the dyeing process. Saw the Jordan Marsh representative yesterday about the possibility of getting in their training school, where you get shifted around to various departments for a year at a salary of $18 a week, with the promise of an assistant buyership the next year if you make good, with salaries ranging from $25 up. So I registered, and am also going to with Macy's and Filene's. Irons in the fire won't do any harm. And I could live easily on $72 a month if there was someone to share an apartment. I told him I was especially interested in the advertising and publicity end of it, and while he said there weren't many openings, he appeared impressed when I said I wrote for the Boston Herald. That may wedge too. The job doesn't begin till September. Frannie said she saw the boy in N.Y., who advised me to write telling my qualifications for the position--any position with Fox films, and requesting an interview in June. Said they were always on the lookout for new material. I'm also going to get the names of men in high estates in publishing houses from the Personnel bureau, and go in next Saturday to see them, if I write and receive time for an interview. Meanwhile I'm lazy. I just don't want to do anything but read and sit in the sunlight. I don't want to do anything I have to. Novel or otherwise. Last night I gadded. The choir went to Worcester to give a concert with Worcester Tech, and while the men were the usual run of Tech boys---not too exciting certainly, I had a surprisingly good time. We sang in formals, me wearing my peach and glad I hadn't dyed it so far, and after dinner of stew on biscuits and pineapple and cheese (yep) pie, we sang beautifully for the audience. The men's club was good--more nearly like Pomona than any other I've heard except Harvard at its best moments. The [mis-spelling: Then] afterwards they tendered us a dance. To begin with, they lined up the girls on one side and the boys on the other according to [Page 2] height, and the two leaders introduced each gentlemen and lady as they came of the line, so they could dance. I got a very nice but rather shy freshman at first, who had a crew haircut and was almost afraid to go home. Then someone else cut in, and my freshman said very timidly, “May I come back?” Smiling sweetly, I gave my gracious permission. The next was a graduate student who had dark hair from whom I got separated by the advent of a Paul Jones...boys all going in one direction, girls in the other..then matching when the music stops. It was most amusing. There were 3 little short girls in front of me, and I noticed coming toward us was a tall man. But not near enought [mis-spelling: enough]. The music stopped. Said man was by one of the short girls. Dilemma. Solution. Don't stop when the music does---just be a little deaf. Answer: you will then get to dance with the delectable concoction in the peach chiffon who looks tall enough to reach your shoulder so you won't have to break your back. Result: Ole Olson, a Lutheran, who was prepared to have a good time in his senior year, had been engaged in his Sophomore year, had just been notified of an assistant professorship in Chemistry for the next year, so we celebrated by enjoying the dance, which was again interrupted by a Paul Jones, in which I got left without a man at all and so sat down demurely. A stalwart young man with a flat head which had bristles on it, approached and begged the pleasure. Again I smiled sweetly. We danced. Someone cut..someone else cut back, and finally my little freshman, to whom I told this was my second year in Wellesley, and who had been hanging around on the edge for a long time, came threading thru the crowd, and asked if he might cut, wondering if I wasn't tired, I had danced every dance! When the affair was over, he thanked me for the most enjoyable evening he had had in Worcester. So gathering up my slightly blackened train, I hied me to the bus, we we returned in triumph at 2 A.M. What an evening! I take it you didn't have a very satisfactory talk with Grandpa. Didn't you tell him one of the reasons you had roomers was so he wouldn't be alone? You're letting what he thinks is right pervert your own conscience. Why on earth shouldn't you stay at Bailey's if you wanted to? I suppose it was too soon after the fracas, but when he cools down, you know, he won't take count of every night you're gone, and he has no right to anyway. California was never like that! I shall have to see the “Murder on a Honeymoon”, and the other if I can. Although it looks like California out now--hurray for the sunshine! But I must fly, I suppose. Being up until 2 seems to have improved my cold. I only blew the whistle once the whole evening, and today I don't seem to have any at all. You didn't get one, did you? Hope not. Love to now...n’ for’ver Ginger


Wellesley, Massachusetts; Schenectady, New York


Student Life; Home and Family


Clothing and dress; Job hunting; Dance parties; Men

Letter from Virginia Veeder Westervelt, Wellesley, Massachusetts, to Mrs. Millicent Veeder, Schenectady, New York, 1935 April 6