OK lol, you carry on, ladies, ironing your bed sheets and perfecting your tablescapes. I’m going out to have a CAREER and a LIFE. Ever heard of something called FEMINISM hahaha?
It's very easy to make fun of the tradwives. Look, I just did it without breaking a sweat. And yet. And yet… To describe me as not very domestic would be like describing Kim Kardashian as not very camera-shy. My children have never looked more scared than when I announced one night I was going to cook spaghetti Bolognese for them, instead of relying on something ready-made (the meat came out grey; I promised never to try that again.)
I can’t cook, can’t sew and my cleaning skills are – at best – minimal. If Deliveroo didn’t exist, my kids and I would probably die of malnutrition. I look at people who sew their own curtains with the same bemused fascination as I look at Tom Cruise doing his own stunts: impressive, yes, but how? And why? But mainly how?
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I’m not proud of any of this. Really, I’m not. I may not be very interested in learning how to fold a fitted sheet, but I also don’t think asking my dry cleaner to sew on some buttons for me is living the feminist dream. I think it’s just being inept. So in this regard, the tradwives are fulfilling a function. These skills aren’t taught in schools anymore, and it surely isn’t just me who prioritised getting a job over learning how to cook. This, I suspect, is why Hannah Neelemn, aka Ballerina Farm, (10.3 million followers on instagram) and Nara Smith (4.7 million) are still such a presence on social media, despite feeling more last year than Rishi Sunak: some of us might have watched them initially to laugh at them, only for that mockery turn to fascination. Oh so THAT’S how you get tomato sauce stains out of clothes? And THAT’S how you clean the gunk out of your shower head?
So I get it, of course I do. I’ve even had fantasies about it – not being a tradwife (I like working too much, sorry), but about being at least a little domestic. If I was able to cook, I tell myself, then I’d be able to throw fabulous dinner parties for my friends. And provide a home for my children that smells of fresh cookies as opposed to one that smells of takeaway. For God’s sake, Nora Ephron could cook dinner parties and set beautiful tables to boot, while also making movies, writing books and being Nora Ephron. I know you don’t have to choose between domestic and professional lives. It is possible to have both.
Still, I’m fascinated by the tradwives of Instagram in the same way I’m fascinated by the Real Housewives Of… franchise. I have never had any tweakments, let alone plastic surgery, and haven’t worn high heels for about a decade. So I look at the tweaked, plastic, hoiked up Housewives and can’t help but admire their dedication. I’m never going to be like them, thank God, but I have been known to have been inspired to try an occasional flicked eyeliner after studying their cat-like eyes. Similarly, the tradwives represent an extreme version of femininity that has no interest for me, with their “I’m just a humble homemaker, subscribe to my Youtube channel” vibe.
I’d be very interested to hear how the children of these Trad Wives feel about their home and lives being used as online content. Even those who don’t show their kids in their videos tend to namecheck them frequently, as if proving their maternity bona fides. And what on earth are these women going to do when their children no longer need them to make pizza from scratch? But I can take bits of inspiration from them, even if it’s just learning how to make non-grey spaghetti Bolognese.
I don’t know if it’s a human tendency or just a me tendency to need these kinds of extreme role models in order to become a half-way functioning human being. But I do know this: I won’t ever tablescape, but I really do love my new kitchen tablecloth. And for this non-trad, non-wife, that’s enough.
