{"id":12407,"date":"2018-07-16T09:15:13","date_gmt":"2018-07-16T13:15:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/phillyhistory.wpengine.com\/?p=12407"},"modified":"2021-01-31T11:13:16","modified_gmt":"2021-01-31T16:13:16","slug":"saloons-rise-and-fall-of-the-ladies-entrance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/2018\/07\/saloons-rise-and-fall-of-the-ladies-entrance\/","title":{"rendered":"Saloons: Rise and Fall of the “Ladies’ Entrance”"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Shackamaxon Street and E. Girard Avenue, April 15, 1901 (PhillyHistory.org)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u201cSloughing against the bar with one foot on the rail would have been unthinkable behavior for most \u2018decent\u2019 women, let along spitting into the cuspidors or allowing their skirts to trail in the beer-soaked sawdust,\u201d wrote Madelon Powers.<\/p>\n

“For some women even entering<\/em> a bar is a fearful prospect,\u201d agreed Mary Jane Lupton in Feminist Studies<\/em>. \u201cThey might get bothered or insulted or embarrassed. Part of this apprehension is based on a realistic appraisal of male behavior. Part has to do with the rather intimidating architecture of the neighborhood barroom, with its L-shaped front bar and its lineup of stools . . . The L provides a defensive line; to break into that, to disrupt the pattern, is to place oneself in a vulnerable position.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yet, Powers claimed, \u201csaloongoers were not totally anti-woman . . .\u00a0 Many bar songs and stories portrayed females as merciful and decent and were surprisingly sentimental about mothers, wives, and women friends. Moreover, male customers accepted and indeed welcomed a female presence in certain areas of the saloon under well-defined circumstances. Though bargoers jealously guarded their male prerogatives and commiserated over male-female conflicts, there is no indication that these men as a group reviled or hated the women in their lives. Sexists and chauvinists they were, but not complete misogynists.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe only circumstance in which respectable women might legitimately linger unescorted\u201d in saloons would be \u201cin order to consume the saloon\u2019s famous free lunch.\u201d To access to this lunch, \u201cfree with the purchase of a five-cent drink,\u201d women would bypass \u201cthe male-dominated \u2018barroom proper\u2019\u201d by entering a side door marked \u201cladies’ entrance.\u201d<\/p>\n

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Shackamaxon Street and E. Girard Avenue, April 15, 1901 – Detail. (PhillyHistory.org)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

This entrance, according to Powers, served a threefold purpose. \u201cFirst, it permitted women to enter inconspicuously and minimize public scrutiny of their comings and goings\u2026 Second, women\u2019s entry through the side door eliminated the necessity of their running the gauntlet through the establishment front room . . . undisputed male territory. \u00a0. . .\u00a0 Finally, the side door afforded women quick and convenient access both to the far end of the bar, where they could purchase carry-out alcohol and to a second chamber known as the \u2018back room,\u2019 where they could feast on free lunches or attend social events hosted there.\u201d<\/p>\n

And so the \u201cladies’ entrance\u201d to bars and saloons became universal protocol. Except for one notable case, the most traditional of saloons: McSorley\u2019s Old Ale House in lower Manhattan. Philadelphia artist John Sloan, who moved to New York in 1904, famously and repeatedly painted scenes of its interior<\/a>.<\/p>\n

John McSorley \u201cbelieved it impossible for men to drink with tranquility in the presence of women\u201d though drinkers tolerated, and were even amused by, young boys running in and out of the back room, snatching \u201chandfuls of cheese and slices of onion, before dashing out, \u201cslamming the door.\u201d \u00a0Where many saloons welcomed women, albeit with conditions and limitations, McSorley\u2019s made its message clear with a sign: \u201cNOTICE. NO BACK ROOM IN HERE FOR LADIES.\u201d<\/p>\n

McSorley\u2019s motto? \u201cGood ale, raw onions, and no ladies.\u201d When a female entered, Joseph Mitchell told in The New Yorker<\/em>, \u201cOld John would hurry forward, make a bow, and say, \u2018Madam, I\u2019m sorry, but we don\u2019t serve ladies.\u2019 If a woman insisted, Old John would take her by the elbow, head her toward the door, and say, \u2018Madam, please don\u2019t provoke me. Make haste and get yourself off the premises, or I\u2019ll be obliged to forget you\u2019re a lady.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Sloan considered McSorley\u2019s back room \u201clike a sacristy,\u201d a place where \u201cold John McSorley would sit greeting old friends and philosophizing. Women were never served,\u201d added Sloan, \u201cindeed the dingy walls and woodwork looked as if women had set neither hand nor foot in the place.\u201d<\/p>\n

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Shackamaxon Street and E. Girard Avenue, April 15, 1901 – Detail. (PhillyHistory.org)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Until June 25, 1970, that is, when, by court order, McSorley’s opened its doors to women. Shortly after Mayor John Lindsay signed the order, Lucy Komisar, a vice president of the National Organization for Women, approached \u201cthe old\u2010fashioned wooden doors\u201d wearing, The New York Times<\/em> felt compelled to inform its readers, \u201ca purple jumpsuit, sandals and sunglasses.\u201d<\/p>\n

A waiter demanded Komisar produce her birth certificate.\u201d The 28-year old Komisar offered her driver\u2019s license. The waiter refused to accept the license as proof she was at least 18 (then the legal drinking age). Komisar attempted to push her way in. The two engaged in \u201ca short wrestling match\u201d before the manager allowed Komisar inside, \u201cto a chorus of boos from some of the regular patrons.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShortly afterward,\u201d observed the Times<\/em> reporter, \u201cMiss Komisar was involved in an argument with \u201csome young men who were drinking ale in their undershirts.\u201d When \u201cone tall, unidentified man showed her an obscene poem he had scrawled on a piece of paper, [Komisar] tried to snatch it out of his hand.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, you little ——–,\u201d he shouted, dumping a stein of ale over her head.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019You can\u2019t do that!\u2019 she shrieked, lunging at him.\u201d Again the manager intervened, escorting the protesting, undershirted poet to the sidewalk.<\/p>\n

They\u2019re really boorish, horrible men\u201d commented Komisar, \u201cdrenched but smiling . . . as she sipped an ale at the bar.\u201d They \u201chave a lot of problems with their masculinity.\u201d<\/p>\n

Taking it all in nearby, \u201can old-timer in an open collar shirt shook his head sorrowfully. \u2018That woman is trouble. All women are trouble. This is what happens when you let them in here.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Apparently, everyone had more work to do.<\/p>\n

[Sources: Madelon Powers, Faces Along the Bar: Lore and Order in the Workingman\u2019s Saloon, 1870-1920 <\/em>(The University of Chicago Press, 1998); Mary Jane Lupton, \u201cLadies’ Entrance: Women and Bars,\u201d Feminist Studies<\/em>, Vol. 5, No. 3, (Autumn, 1979); Joseph Mitchell, \u201cThe Old House at Home<\/a>,\u201d The New Yorker<\/em>, April 13, 1940; John Sloan, The Gist of Art<\/em> (New York, American Artists Group, Inc. 1939); Grace Lichtenstein, \u201cMcSorley’s Admits. Women Under a New City Law, The New York Times<\/em>, August 11, 1970.]<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cSloughing against the bar with one foot on the rail would have been unthinkable behavior for most \u2018decent\u2019 women, let along spitting into the cuspidors or allowing their skirts to trail in the beer-soaked sawdust,\u201d wrote Madelon Powers. “For some women even entering a bar is a fearful prospect,\u201d agreed Mary Jane Lupton in Feminist […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12407","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12407","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12407"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12407\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12407"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12407"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.phillyhistory.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12407"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}