‘The string bag is the symbol of feminine bondage in Australia’. Thus spoke US consul Mr T.C. Robinson at a conference of the NSW Agricultural Bureau in 1950. He advocated a reorganisation of food distribution (which eventually led to supermarkets and shopping malls), better laundry and dry-cleaning services, and modernised kitchens. Robinson stated that when it came to shopping, housewives in America achieved in one hour what took Australian women six hours.
A more simplistic explanation for AustralianĀ women’s shopping woesĀ was that delivery services had not returned to normal following the manpower shortages of WWII. Technically, the ban on home deliveries ended in October 1945, but business owners were only too happy to let their customers keep lugging everything home themselves. š
WAR – WHEN EVERYONE BECAME A ‘BAG LADY’
The humble string bag had become a symbol of great socialĀ changeĀ during the war years;
In those good old days beforeĀ theĀ war, to carry a string bag bulging with parcels was considered rather bad form, but now no-one from the highest to the lowest in the land, dreams of venturing out without this faithful, capacious, and ever-ready friend-in-need.Ā The smartest women whip string bags from their elegant handbags like conjurors producing rabbits from a hat….stores must be lugged home by the mother of a family, and the smart dweller in an up-to-date flat alike. Manpower shortages know no social distinction and here the string bag come into its own. Into its open moth are popped the Sunday joint, vegetables, fruit, dairy produce, often topped up with a new hat. (Weekly Times, Dec. 9 1942)
String bags had the advantages of being lightweight and able to holdĀ articles of any shape.Ā Ā On the downside, it was impossible to put them down without everything falling out. Also, the open netting presented a daily hazard. UnlikeĀ hairnets of the time, which preventedĀ women factory workers becoming entangled in machinery. everyone had a story ofĀ Ā their string bagĀ catching on a button….not always their own!Ā Travelling on crowded trams and buses led to embarrassingĀ incidents ofĀ men’s trouser buttons becoming entangled. It was panic stations if your stop came up before you could free your groceries.
In the end it was fashion that proved the beginning of the endĀ for the string bag. As Sydney’sĀ Smith’ s Weekly reported;
Signs of decay set in some time ago when baskets from China, Italy and the South Sea Islands started popping up in the shops. A further blow was struck when straw became the fashion for handbags…but the rot really set in when that odd material called seagrass came on the market….But the string bag was holding its own pretty well up to Christmas. That gave it the crowning blow.Ā In some unaccountable manner almost every woman in Sydney seemed to be bitten with the idea that the giftĀ all her women friends had been sighing for was a seagrass basket. (Smith’s Weekly, Jan 7 1950)
The following photograph appeared in The Age, on December 29 1951.
Here is a doll’s house size string bag and its contents,Ā dating from the 1950s. It was advertised for sale on a vintage products site.
For something that was widely perceived as totally lacking in glamour, it’s amazing that the string shopping bag endured into the 1960s and 70s. Occasionally there had been attempts to come up with alternatives, including using large scarves in the manner of Dick Whittington.Ā Ā Hmm…a good try, but did the idea catch on? No.
I still carry 2 string bags –ideal for carrying fruit and vegs like apples and potatoes. I also have a similar bag in my handbag, which I often use for small parcels, to save buying the ones the shops supply.
Back in the 1950s, Mum and I used to make our own bags, using very fine plastic string.
BTW, not all of your illustrations came through, to my disappointmment
So much better than plastic bags Barbara. It’s not good to hear that some of the images couldn’t be seen though.