By Simone Gillespie
In an attempt to promote the modernization of homes and the switch to electric, in the first half of the twentieth century, North Carolina power companies ran advertisements that focused on the housewife and her work in the kitchen. In both the imagery and language of these advertisements, housewives are portrayed as hospitable servants to those within their households. Occasionally the advertisements leave room for activities outside of the home, but they primarily allude to how their products help to alleviate the effort and time spent completing domestic tasks. To showcase the breadth of advertisements produced by these power companies, the ads examined for this article were published in North Carolina newspapers, cookbooks, yearbooks, and city directories between 1915 to 1965.
Some advertisements used a personified lightning bolt, Reddy Kilowatt, as a stand-in for the invisible electrical current powering new kitchen appliances. Created in 1926 (though he didn’t appear in NC until 1935) Reddy was the mascot for power companies across the country during the twentieth century and is a clever advertising ploy that distracts the reader from the reality of the situation. For example, an ad printed in The Tryon Daily Bulletin by Duke Power told readers: “With Reddy’s help she prepared 20 meals a week, tidies 6 rooms daily, keeps clothes clean and in order for 4 people.” Giving this personification of electricity a name and credit attempts to negate the work completed by the housewife; it creates an illusion that she has a second person helping her complete tasks, despite the fact that it is still only her doing the work.
The language used in power company’s ads further serves as a reflection of the attitudes toward domestic life in the first half of the century. Ads often used language such as “my wife,” “she,” “your wife,” etc., never addressing the woman herself, only the man. It wasn’t until World War II, when women took charge of their household while their husbands were at war, that the advertisements began to shift their language, referring to “her money,” which did not free the housewives from their homemaking duties, but gave them some household autonomy. Later ads refer to the housewife’s budget,which was allotted from her husband’s overall household budget.
Positioning women as being a servant was ingrained in society from a young age. One Southern Public Utilities ad printed in 1925 in The Black and Gold, the yearbook of Richard J. Reynolds High School, read “An Electric Range in your home means a Cleaner Kitchen and a Happy Wife.” This language presumed that most male students would shortly thereafter find a wife. Another ad, run by Duke Power in 1947, focused on “the older school girls” not having to “hurry straight home from school to help mother” with household tasks thanks to an electric oven.
Many of these advertisements reference the “drudgery” of the kitchen. Drudgery – “dull, irksome, and fatiguing work” – is the common enemy in ads promoting modern kitchen conveniences; drudgery may mean maintaining fires, washing dishes, or boiling water. These advertisements show housewives either partaking in or being relieved of the drudgery of domestic labor. Some harken back to days of the past while others show modern housewives with big smiles in their electric kitchens because, according to Southern Public Utilities, “it enables you to remain fresh and sweet for the family,” and to Duke Power, access to electricity “add[s] so much to her charm, health and disposition.”
One Duke Power ad implies that if a husband provides his wife with an electric kitchen, she will be happy and healthy, a “Rosy Cheeked Smiling Wife” freed from “kitchen drudgery and worry.” Another boasts a “Recipe for a HEALTHY.. HAPPY WIFE!” In this ad, the recipe is laid out as follows: “Plenty of time for outdoor recreation, for social activities, time to spend with her children and relief from kitchen drudgery and worry!,” all provided by a modern electric range. Even though these advertisements craft a narrative of less time being spent in the kitchen for the wives and mothers to do other things and lead healthier and happier lives, they still position domestic work as the wife or mother’s duty.
In the 1930s Duke Power Company ran a series of ads titled “Lovable wives and livable kitchens.” One installment of this series, printed in the April 15, 1937 edition of The Yadkin Ripple, shows a husband and wife in an embrace in their kitchen. The opening line reads, “Romance lives again for the happy wife who discovers the chance of kitchen drudgery.” There is an implication that if the husband opts to provide his wife with these new kitchen appliances, she will have more time to spend with him romantically, even sexually. The ad goes on to implore the husband to “Give your wife freedom from kitchen toils–help her to keep that youthful sweetness–let romance live again.” It is not hard to read between the lines here and draw the connection that sex may be in the husband’s future should he gift his wife with an electric kitchen.
Beyond the heteronormative household structures reinforced and encouraged by these ads, I feel that it must be acknowledged that in each of these ads where images of people appeared, only conventionally attractive white people were showcased– further demonstrating the world in which they were created. Through the imagery and language used in these advertisements, a recipe was developed, tweaked, and perfected over time. In a sense, these ads, when collected and shown together, create a recipe book focusing on how to be a loving and hospitable housewife. Just as recipes throughout time reflect the modernization of kitchens across America, so do these “recipes” reflect on how to be a good housewife. Morphing from gas to electric, fresh to frozen, the kitchen and ingredients have changed, but the housewife’s duties and ties to the kitchen have remained the same. These recipes for hospitable housewives are not clear cut instructions, but are woven into the bylines and takeaways of each advertisement, reflecting societal norms and further instilling these heteronormative beliefs in the reader.
Simone Gillespie, an early career librarian and archivist, is a two-time graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, receiving her BA in History and English in 2020 and her MS in Library Science in 2024. Her research and archival interests include LGBTQ+ history, Southern foodways, community archives, archival access, Americana, and sports history.
