I’ve done nothing but rave about the Arcade Publications I have read, so I expected I would have a similar response to Our Girls: Aussie Pin-Ups of the 40s and 50s by Madeleine Hamilton. Moving from Melbourne based history, Our Girls looks at the lives and lithe limbs of the Australian swimsuit cuties of the 1940s and 1950s. Hamilton seems to be making an argument that these women were “trailblazers of the sexual revolution and women’s lib movement.” All the reviews I’ve read similarly commend Hamilton’s message, and I’ve struggled with voicing my objections: if all those other reviewers found these stories so liberating, why didn’t I? I found Our Girls to be caught up in the nostalgia for pin-up style glamour, and attempting to legitimize that nostalgia under the guise of feminism.

It is refreshing, I will admit, to see female bodies without significant retouching or surgical enhancements. Hamilton at one point almost incites the problematic “real women” debate: “The classic 40s or 50s pin-up is charming because she’s so real.” The images of women we see so often today may be made unreal through extensive digital manipulation, but the women in those images are always “real”, regardless of any surgical alterations. Isn’t it exactly this sort of display that makes them appear as less “real” to us?

Although the attempt is to focus on the experiences of the female models, there is so much emphasis placed on the male reception of the models – whether in response to beach beauty photography competitions or soldiers on the war front overseas. Images of women are claimed to have worked toward boosting morale, promoting patriotism. Rather, I see these images as the forerunner of the commodification of the female body and sexuality, an issue Hamilton touches on briefly: “Pin-up girls were, by now, widely perceived as sexy fantasy figures rather than the approachable girls next door they’d once been.”

The story of Adelie Hurley, pin-up model turned photographer, stands out as a woman carving her own path in a male dominated field, but otherwise I just don’t see much to admire in these sorts of portrayals of women – and yes, one can recognize these responses as merely a sign of the times they were living in, but Hamilton is pushing for embracing these women as feminist forerunners:

It was essential that the Sun contest didn’t offend female readers with any overtly sexual or indecorous display, so entrants wore one-piece swimsuits rather than bikinis and were meticulously groomed. The ‘respectable’ occupations, stable family backgrounds, and marriageability of finalists were emphasised. [...] 1952 Torquay ‘Sungirl’ Jaon Belceaux told the paper she’d ‘rather be married than be a full-time mannequin – Marriage is the best career.’

While Our Girls offers an insight into the lives of the Australian female models of the 1940s and 1950s, the message didn’t come across coherently to me. I am going to a Wheeler Centre event that Madeleine Hamilton will be appearing at, so perhaps hearing her speak will clear up any apprehensions I have.