Between 1930 and 1960 Americans regard interior decorator1 Dorothy Draper (1889 – 1969) as a pioneer in the area of commercial design, induct her into numerous Halls of Fame, identify her as Woman of the Year (1948), and recognize her name as the most familiar in the business in 1960.2 What is particularly provocative about this list is the diversity of the constituencies who recognize her achievements. Her clients, successful businessmen, identify her as an early expert in commercial design; her peers within the design professions elect her into the Halls of Fame; the business community recognizes her as Woman of the Year, and a public poll yields her name as the most recognizable by the masses.
Of all the groups, the latter is the most unexpected. Many of the first and second generation of lady decorators built a client base from members of their same class (Blossom and Turpin 2008). Draper is different. While she uses her social connections to great advantage, she consciously pursues the middle class throughout her career through advice books and columns, and the design of public interiors. Without a formal education in decoration or design, Draper relies on her socially perceived position as an upper-class woman of “taste,” which she fashions into a viable, marketable commodity. She uses this commodity as entrée into the world of advice literature and never relinquishes it. However, the mere act of writing cannot sustain her career; the public must validate the value of her product through consumption.
According to Reynolds and Olson, this sustained act of consumption implies that consumer values underscore each purchase (Reynolds and Olson 2001). If true, then how did Draper, an upper-class, Edwardian debutante raised in a gated community, understand the values of the middle-class American housewife? This essay explores the relationship between Dorothy Draper and the American middle-class housewife in an attempt to understand how these two value systems successfully converge between 1925 and 1950.
The literature addressing the relationship between decorators and their individual clients, and decorators and consumers, differs significantly. The vast majority of the scholarship regarding the historical figures in the interior design profession relies on the celebrity status of the decorator. During the first decade of the 21st century a flourish of biographies were published on “celebrity” decorators, Elsie de Wolfe, Francis Elkins, Dorothy Draper, Van Day Truex, and Albert Hadley – each as the topic of their own book (Lewis 2001, 2005; Salny 2005; Sparke 2005; Varney and Shaw 2006). Although most of the texts rely on the celebrity lifestyle of the individual decorators in order to entice readership, the titles demonstrate a desire to lay claim to some aspect of history. Albert Hadley is “America's preeminent interior designer,” while Dorothy Draper is “America's most fabulous decorator.” Van Day Truex defines “20th century taste and style,” and de Wolfe is responsible for the birth of “modern interior decoration.”
While the texts must be recognized for the compilation and presentation of archival material, most of them lack a scholarly analysis of the designer's work or contributions to the profession or society at large; Sparke's work is the exception. Voyeuristic details of their idiosyncratic lives or those of their famous clients produce a fascinating, albeit myopic view, of upper-class American society – particularly that of the designer and the client. While each of these texts has benefited from surveys of women in design, progress toward a critical understanding of these women and their relationship to society remains slow.
Studies or articles attempting to explore the relationship between interior designers and the consumer (masses) are difficult to find. Perhaps the most significant text at this point is Penny Sparke's, As Long As It's Pink: The Sexual Politics of Taste, that analyzes the relationship between gender, taste, and consumption during the 20th century (Sparke 1995). Taste is a distinguishing component of this study in that Sparke believes that society relegated taste to the feminine sphere where it became the primary means through which women negotiated the private, alternative face of modernity that touched and transformed their lives. This is based on taste's ability to communicate complex messages about values, aspirations, beliefs, and identities. The text addresses the topic broadly and does not pursue in depth the manner in which any given designer engaged the female consumer – but that was not the purpose of the book. Sparke does, however, reveal the authority of the female consumer in the marketplace as a powerful force.
Texts such as those previously mentioned encourage a much broader review of the literature regarding women interior decorators/designers. A 2007 study analyzes the content of the existing literature – surveys, monographs, case studies – focused on women's roles in the developing profession of interior design. The intent is to understand the degree to which women influenced the historical narrative and the manner in which they were discussed. The study uncovers five distinct concepts – gender, taste, consumerism, identity, and modernism – that demonstrate great value in understanding the female designer's experiences with and contributions to society (Turpin 2007). The findings respond to the fact that many decorators were women who used their taste as a commodity to sell products or services to American housewives seeking opportunities for self-expression during a century defined by modernism. Despite the studies about decorators, one concept rarely comes into the conversation: the idea of understanding “success.”
Even though success is not explicitly discussed in much of the literature, many authors imply a decorator's success when they use terms like trendsetter or tastemaker. Without further exploration, the resulting conclusion suggests that decorators do nothing but follow the capricious whims of the consumer. This devalues the female consumer, suggesting that she is nothing but a shopper, when in fact her purchases are an attempt to express her values, aspirations, beliefs, and identities – and the decorator who is responsible for making “pretty things.” The only author to propose a more substantive argument for a decorator's success is Penny Sparke in “The Domestic Interior and the Construction of Self: The New York Homes of Elsie de Wolfe” (Sparke 2004):
[Elsie de Wolfe's] success as a professional decorator undoubtedly stemmed from her ability to focus on those aspects of her persona with which other women could identify. Her enhanced characterization of her own femininity, her social aspirations and her ambivalent sense of her own nationality, proved to be those with which many of the female members of the emergent elite of American society were also preoccupied and which they sought to express through their domestic interiors.
Sparke's statement implies that success is based on some sort of shared value system between the designer and the consumer. De Wolfe, like many of her peers, works predominantly with a clientele (female socialites) from her own class. The shared value system lubricates the design process as decisions by both the designer and the client grew from similar cultural roots often grounded in class and gender.
Draper, however, chooses a much different professional career path. She quickly abandons residential design for the wealthy and focuses her efforts on large-scale public commissions – apartment buildings, restaurants, retail spaces – frequented by a much larger range of Americans; she also strategically begins writing advice books and columns. Even though her primary clients are wealthy businessmen, the end-user represents individuals from numerous classes. In a 1957 interview with Edward R. Murrow, Draper laments the experience of commuters. “Think of those poor commuters who die young just because they go on such uncomfortable trains.”
Carleton Varney, current president of Draper & Company and a past employee of Draper's, states, “To Dorothy, public space represent[s] a place for people to come and feel elevated in the presence of great beauty, where the senses could look and feel and absorb the meaning of a quality life” (Varney (1988). Draper manifests this belief by reinterpreting aristocratic European designs for middle-class consumption in public spaces, such as retail stores and restaurants. Perhaps more importantly, she also incorporates this approach in her advice books. An analysis of her door designs, as found in Decorating Is Fun!, brings to light Draper's interest in offering the middle class diluted versions of doors in a number of high styles (Renaissance, baroque, neoclassical) at an affordable price (Turpin 2000).
The literature review reveals a clear move toward understanding women's participation in the public sphere of business as consumers and service providers; however, understanding their success remains virtually unexplored. Sparke indicates a relationship between the designer and the consumer – underscored by shared values. In her case study, the designer, de Wolfe, and the consumer, her wealthy clients, come from the same class. De Wolfe designs within a framework grounded in her own class experiences for individuals in similar situations.
However, Draper, a member of the elite class, connects with the middle class – a group whose value system is quite different than her own. Research focusing on consumer behavior can help articulate the relationship between those who make products or offer services and those who consume them.
Consumer behavior has become a widely studied field since the 1960s.3 Researchers address gender, race, and class in an attempt to understand the choices consumers make. One general conclusion is that individual values are almost always at the core of the process.
Reynolds and Olson (2001) make this evident in their Means-End Theory (MET) for marketing and advertising strategy. The authors rely on cognitive psychology to craft a model that depends on relationships between three separate elements: the attributes of a product (means), the consequences for the consumer based on those attributes, and the personal values (ends) reinforced by those consequences (see Figure 2.1).
Reynolds and Olson break down each of the categories for further exploration. For example, attributes can be represented by form or style. Consequences are either tangible or emotional. Anticipated values are higher-order feelings or life goals. As can be seen in Figure 2.1, the reliance on consumer values in the processes of evaluating products is underscored. If consequences are negative and do not support values, then the product is not accepted. However, if the consumer perceives the consequences as being positive, then it is understood that it supported a portion of their belief system. This clearly implies that the “product,” and by extension the designer, is successful. Reynolds and Olson's paradigm can easily be applied to Draper and reinforces the five concepts (gender, taste, consumerism, identity, and modernism) motivating so much of the research involving women and interior design, which essentially uncovered a critical relationship between females on both sides of a business transaction focused on products and services for the domestic environment.
Draper is responsible for both the physical form and the style of her “products,” in this case, a finished interior or her advice in a written text. The consumer then evaluates the product to determine consequences. In order for an interior to be viewed as positive, it must first be functional. If a consumer cannot sit at a table comfortably or use a sink because it is too high, then a space fails immediately as the consumer is frustrated. The psychosocial aspect of consequences relative to design might relate to an aesthetic response where the consumer is most likely to be moved emotionally. Purchasing a home follows this process. If a home is well designed and is therefore functional and aesthetically pleasing, then the consumer finds value in living a comfortable life. These choices reflect their taste, as well as a much deeper series of personal values.
The primary intent of the Reynolds and Olson model is to demonstrate how and why consumers purchase a product, which encourages the design of product based on data regarding consumer behavior, leading to profit in production and sales. However, I suggest that the model has the potential to uncover critical relationships between the values of the designer and the consumer if it is considered in a different context. In this context the attributes of a product are a reflection of Draper's values rather than a simple means to an end (profit) driven by fashion or fad. To test this model, statements by Draper are carefully analyzed and cross-referenced with critical aspects of her life experiences. Class and gender play a role as these concepts form crucial experiences defined by pre-existing social constructs.
The following discussion focuses on two values of particular importance to the middle class during the first half of the 20th century: progress toward a better life and happiness via psychological comfort. Draper's products are then evaluated, based on the Reynolds and Olson model, to see if her values resonate with the consumer in order to articulate at least one means of understanding success.
During the middle of the 19th century, the middle class glorifies economic independence as a means of attaining stability, continuity, and domesticity (Davis 2001). Maintaining the status quo ensures that they will not lose their newfound position in society that was granted by the effects of the Industrial Revolution. By the turn of the century, stability is not enough. With the increase of wealth in the United States as a result of the Reconstruction era, many members of the middle class vault into the upper class with tremendous speed and pecuniary force. The class they leave behind grows envious of their lifestyle and no longer settles for stability. They desire orderly progress. “The root assumption [is] that progress [is] an inspired and irrevocable law” (Baritz 1989). The middle class views their ascension to the elite levels of society as inevitable, given enough time, at least for some of them.4 In the meantime, they prepare for the “inevitable” by acting, behaving, and living like their social superiors to the point that their financial means will allow. Without any direct knowledge of how to do this, they search for advice; and who better than the “grandes dames” of taste, the women of the upper class, to come to their aid?
Decorating Is Fun!, Draper's first publication in 1939, joins a growing list of interior decoration books that includes works by Edith Wharton, Elsie de Wolfe, and Emily Post.5 Books on decoration fall into three general categories. The first category focuses more on the study of interior decoration. Books such as Edith Wharton and Ogden Codman's The Decoration of Houses (1897), Joy Wheeler Dow's The Book of a Hundred Houses (1906), and Gladys Miller's Decoratively Speaking (1939) concentrate on historical styles and architectural details for upper-class homes.
The other extreme is the do-it-yourself books. Emily Burbank's Be Your Own Decorator (1922) rarely addresses historical periods and, instead, focuses readers on how to use the current inventory in their home to enhance their space. The “do-it-yourself” concept is a prime consideration and many of the tasks require that the occupants complete the labor.
The third category includes books that negotiate the middle of the spectrum. Authors target the middle class by providing some information on historic styles and budgets. The one trait that often defines this group is the severity of the “dos” and “don'ts.” Unlike the more scholarly approach in the first category and the lack of criticism in the second, these authors speak of good taste and employ it as their validation for good decoration.
Emily Post's The Personality of a House: The Blue Book of Home Design and Decoration (1930) sets the standard for this category. These books count on the insecurities of middle-class women who question their own taste. Amidst the popularity of decorating books, Draper offers her approach that integrates traits of the second and third categories. She excludes historical styles from the discussion, considers the significance of budget, and, most importantly, communicates in a tone as if she were speaking to her best friend over tea.
Draper begins by demystifying the art of decoration by asking her readers “Have you ever considered how much pure stuff and nonsense surrounds this subject of interior decoration?” She continues by stating “almost everyone believes that there is something deep and mysterious about it or that you have to know all sorts of complicated details about periods before you can lift a finger” (Draper 1939). Having put her readers' apprehensions to rest, Draper delivers her stylistic approach to decoration that is underscored by her values. A discussion of her advice (the products) becomes the first data for the theoretical framework according to Reynolds and Olson: the attributes.
In Decorating Is Fun! Draper provides design advice for each room in the house. We will look at the dining room and bedroom, in part because the images she provides allow us to “see” the physical and abstract attributes (form and style, respectively). Figure 2.2 depicts a romantic table set for four. The forms suggest that the furnishings are derivative of high-style pieces, but with some modern adjustments. The chairs reference the Victorian era with heavy tufting and Queen Anne legs, although Draper has painted them white. The stiff backs imply a need for good posture while in the company of others. Layers of window treatments boast swags, jabots, and ruffles framing an expanse of glass that might suggest a country view. While the floral wallpaper offers an air of formality, the polka dot tablecloth is playful and informal. Four tall, elegant candles frame an equal number of white vases filled with red tulips to give the illusion of a magnificent centerpiece. The styling of the vignette harks back to elaborate table settings experienced by the wealthy. The table is meticulously set with the appropriate plateware, silverware, and glassware. The table appears full, as if guests will be sitting down to a luxurious seven-course meal.
Draper's design of a bedroom for the Hampshire House (shown in Figure 2.3) follows a similar formula. Two four-post tester beds with colorful floral valances and modest side panels are the focal point of this relatively intimate bedroom in a Manhattan apartment building. The Chinese-inspired fretwork on the headboard hints at the exotic or the imported. A skirted vanity table and oversized chair and ottoman in the same textile as the bed's accouterments welcome the inhabitants as if secluded in a far-off countryside estate. A promise of that view is hidden behind the layers of textiles, trimmed in tassels. The bold pink and white striped wallpaper visually extends the verticality of the room.
Draper's design choices (as evidenced by the attributes) in Decorating Is Fun! support her values. She clearly draws upon her past experiences as a wealthy member of Tuxedo Park society to inform her aesthetic stylings. Recognizing the importance of a beautiful surrounding, Draper re-creates these pseudo-historic, high-style spaces on a middle-class budget. Her intent is to elevate the quality of life by transporting the users psychologically from the city to the country or at least allowing them to experience the joys of living the good life. Draper communicates the importance of her surroundings in the dedication of Decorating Is Fun!
To
My Mother and Father
Susan and Paul
Tuckerman
The best amateur planners I know, who after more than fifty
years of married life, secretly long to build still another house
and to whom plans and decorations
are an unending fascination, delight and
challenge, this little book is dedicated with
love,
gratitude and admiration.
Draper is referring to the fifth house in Tuxedo Park which the Tuckermans would inhabit. The legacy of the Tuckerman homes is significant to the community of Tuxedo Park and Dorothy. These surroundings underpin her knowledge of, and appreciation for, grand interiors.
Once Draper's advice book hit the bookshelves, consumers review the material for its functional and psychosocial consequences, the next phase of the model. Functionally, the spaces are successful as a place to eat and a place to sleep. As a piece of literature (design advice in written form), the functional (tangible) consequences of the books prove beneficial in educating women on how to create an aesthetically pleasing space on a modest budget.
Acutely aware of her audience, Draper provides strategies for the middle-class housewife to decorate in a manner reminiscent of the upper class. The various components of the dining room come from the five-and-ten-cent store. Draper educates the reader on how “to substitute good taste for money in such a way that charm will not suffer in the least” (Draper 1939). In the bedroom, Draper's use of white paint on the bed frames is quite ingenious; it nullifies the social judgment of the type of wood used in the furniture. The simple lines of the beds read as modern interpretations as opposed to an inexpensive, traditional frame. In both cases, inexpensive furnishings create a high-style appearance. Overstuffed seating, robust floral textiles, and historically referenced details in furnishings belie the perception of a middle-class income.
At the psychosocial (emotional) level middle-class housewives evaluate Draper's advice under the auspices of a general desire to emulate the upper class as a reflection of steady progress toward a better way of life (Bledstein and Johnston 2001). Although the home becomes an opportunity for women to express their identities, it also continues to be a manifestation of the husband's success. The care and decoration of the house communicates the success of the woman at fulfilling her socially constructed role as a “model housewife.” Furthermore, Draper's advice is particularly successful at empowering women who felt as if they had “no taste.” She made clear the point that all women have the ability to make a lovely home. The countless scenarios Draper presents in her text for each room type challenge the idea of a specific fashion or fad that the reader has to follow. Consequently, a middle-class housewife's emotional response to the text is a validation of their good taste and their success as housewives – both of which address their psychosocial needs.
The positive reaction to the consequences supports the middle-class housewives' personal values, the final analysis in the model. They experience higher-order personal feelings of financial independence and progress as manifested by their ability to decorate their homes with such style and elegance. End states or life goals reflect their desire to emulate the upper class and “live the good life” – at least within the reality of their means.
Here, the values of Draper and the consumer merge. Draper knows the value of living in beautiful spaces that elevate the individual; one might say that, in this instance, she embraces the views of the Aesthetic Movement. The aesthetes believe that “the character of the environment sets a standard for the individual to live by. Beautiful surroundings…can instill within each person a corresponding beauty of demeanor, thought, and deed” (Brandt 1989). Draper experiences this at first hand. Middle-class housewives seek the same experience as a reflection of their desire toward steady progress, and the eventual goal of “living the good life.”
The first half of the 20th century is a difficult time for Americans. World War I derails any notion of a peaceful century. The fight is external and at an unimaginable scale. The Great Depression seems a punishment for the debauchery and loose living of the 1920s, while World War II demonstrates that conflicts could actually get worse. During these three decades the American people yearn for distractions.6 They need an escape from worrying about how to feed the family or whether or not a telegram will arrive telling of the loss of a husband, father, or son on the battlefield. They value happiness in the form of psychological comfort, which comes in the need of escapist experiences.
The desire for escapism or fantasy is manifested in many aspects of daily life. The most obvious is the explosive popularity of movies. The relatively new medium becomes the “space of supreme illusion” during the 1920s and 1930s (Fischer 1942). The antics of Charlie Chaplin (1889–1977), the sultry romances of Rudolph Valentino (1895–1926) and the unforgettable screen performances of Greta Garbo (1905–1990) sweep audiences away from their own lives and insert them into someone else's that is more intriguing and exciting.
According to some historians, movies become more escapist during the 1940s because of the psychological stress of the war (Weibel 1977). Walt Disney's (1901–1966) Snow White (1937), Pinocchio (1940), Fantasia (1940), Dumbo (1941), and Bambi (1942) effectively provide escapist afternoons considering they were always some of the highest-grossing films of the year. Americans lose themselves in romantic stories with inevitable happy endings.
Other cultural experiences reflect the American appetite for escapism. Department stores appeal to fantasies of escape and luxury by providing customers with atmospheres of pleasure and comfort (Leach 1993). Window displays delight the eye and the employees place each customer on a pedestal while being served. The department store is particularly meaningful to the female consumer, where feminine taste is indulged and dreams and realities mingle seamlessly (Sparke 1995). Draper's design of the women's floor at Kerr's department store (1941) in Oklahoma City, the next subject up for analysis, blends movie and shopping experiences. The Mirror Room (shown in Figure 2.4) transforms into a glamorous stage that mimics the elegance of the black and white movies for American women seeking distraction from the physical and psychological pressures of everyday life.
The attributes of the interior include a predominantly gray and white palette with a lemon yellow accent. Draper announces the space with a bold sign befitting a theater's marquee. Its shape is a blend of baroque vigor and modern minimalism. Draper frames the opening much like a proscenium, making the experience of entering the dressing room quite grand. Floor-to-ceiling drapes support the theatrics of the space with large spotlight-like lighting fixtures above. Four wall mirrors framed in Draper's neo-baroque scrollwork act as focal points for the space and yet define the single most significant location in the room – the center, which is hidden by the mirrored column.
Dorothy Draper's design choices are a reflection of her love of romanticism as defined by her childhood experiences in Tuxedo Park. The idyllic setting with its tree-canopied roads, rolling hills, and clear lakes created an exquisite backdrop to the architectural marvels that dot the landscape and a vivid setting for a young child's imagination. Herbert Claiborne Pell (1884–1961) recalls a great deal of freedom as a child in “Life in Tuxedo Park.” Children roam free because of the absence of the automobile and an 8-foot-tall barbed wire fence that circles the community. “Modern” games such as kite-flying, marbles, or tag are not options in Tuxedo. The children, instead, exercise their imagination in an untarnished landscape dotted with villas, palazzos, cottages, and chateaus on gracious plots of land trimmed in indigenous foliage. Pell remembers afternoons wandering through the woods “doing that which at the moment seemed good to us” (Pell 1973). Many times this includes an exploration of the forests with the intent of discovering hidden silver mines or perhaps playing Indians. Dorothy participates in such activities; in fact, her mother dresses her in boy's clothes when these occasions arise.7 However, even amongst such beautiful surroundings, Draper recalls wanting to escape from Tuxedo Park because of the endless rules of etiquette that accompany membership in the upper class. She too seeks psychological comfort. Draper knows the value of escapism and fantasy and carries it forward into her adult life and professional career.
The Mirror Room acts as both a place to escape and a place to fantasize. The modern geometry coated in shades of gray provokes memories of the silver screen, which often features scenes of high fashion. Draper, who was raised as an Edwardian debutante, participates in the romance of fashion as is evident from the exquisite dress and wrap that she dons for her 1957 interview with Edward R. Murrow. When she moves through her apartment, the location of the interview, it is as if she is waltzing – another favored pastime according to her youngest daughter, Penelope. Draper's choice in clothing, however, lacks the modern style popular at the time. Her outfit boasts traditional floral motifs and a crinoline undergarment to add fullness. Draper's performance for the camera is an accurate reflection of the woman who uses clothing as a romantic form of escape. Similar to her own attire, Draper's Mirror Room showcases her romantic style with neo-baroque scrollwork and lemon yellow chairs.
For the female customer, the Mirror Room functions as both stage and runway (tangible consequences). Women enjoy the theatrics of exiting the private dressing room into the common area in a new garb. Each garment allows the customer to engage in playacting – in front of an intimate audience no less – and be transported into a world of luxury beyond the drudgery, bills, and monotony of daily life defined by the circumstances of World War II. The customer takes center stage and all eyes are on her. She spins in the new dress trying to catch a glimpse of her new costume at all angles in one of the many reflective surfaces.
The mirrors, the most powerful objects in the space, play a major role in inducing the effect. They have the power to “draw customers into a narcissistic maze of self-reflection, creating an environment in which they might interact with the goods in the most intimate and personal way” (Leach 1993). Such hypnotic experiences are nothing short of a harmless drug that counteracts the reality of the female housewife's current circumstances. Many become depressed and seek help, as indicated by an increase in the formation of support groups across the nation (Campbell 1984).
One should not overlook the most conspicuous of the mirrors in the space: the central column. Of all the mirrors, this one has a unique purpose. It prevents the unwanted, judgmental eye of the male gaze. Draper locates the column right in front of the prime location where a female customer would go to access views of herself in all of the mirrors. This offers the women an added layer of psychological comfort as she denies uninvited parties the opportunity to scrutinize her new clothes, her playacting, or even her self. This brief escape is crucial as women stress over the safety of their loved ones overseas and are burdened with the responsibility of maintaining the illusion that life continues as normal even though they now assume the stressful roles of both mother and father. The emotional consequence of using the Mirror Room is one of relief, happiness, control, and security – all crucial element of psychological comfort.
The incorporation of fantasy and escape makes Draper's interiors a welcome relief for all – lower, middle, and upper class. During the stressful years of both world wars and the Depression, people value comfort and distraction as a means to reaching the end goal of happiness. Consumers seek out places of retreat – like the cinema and retail stores – in order to alleviate the overwhelming stress of their lives. Draper offers individual spaces embedded with emotion. She imbues her style with romanticism as seen in the baroque scrollwork and intensely optimistic colors like lemon yellow. Draper's design approach allows female consumers to live in a state of happiness; one that is carefree and controllable.
By the end of her career, Draper writes articles for House & Garden, publishes two advice books (Decorating Is Fun!, 1939; Entertaining Is Fun, 1941), authors an advice column for newspaper mogul William Randolph Hearst, and is appointed director of Good Housekeeping's “Studio for Living” (November 1941–December 1945). Simultaneously, Draper wins high-profile design commissions that the public can enjoy. Time and again, the attributes (form and style) of Draper's products (written or interiors) are positively evaluated by female consumers (the target market) for functional (physical) and psychosocial (emotional) consequences, thus providing support of their personal values either through higher-order personal feelings or life goals. According to Reynolds and Olson's Means-End Theory, the middle-class housewife's acceptance of Draper's products supports her desire for steady progress and happiness. Perhaps more importantly, however, this study brings to light one way in which Draper's success as a businesswoman might be explained beyond financial success and the elusive criterion of being named a trendsetter or tastemaker.
The results of this study also offer an opportunity to analyze the work of the decorator. Sparke reminds us that women utilize their taste as a means of negotiating modernity. In this case, the women are both the producer and the consumer, the decorator and the housewife. Draper's products are as much an expression of her values, aspirations, beliefs, and identity as they are of those of the consumer. Her romantic tendencies underscore the creation and consumption of her products. In the words of her daughter, “she just love[s] romance…[and] adore[s] romantic things.”8 Draper masterfully wields bright colors, large floral patterns, and pseudo-historical references (in text or form) to help the middle class emulate their social superiors on a modest budget, which supports the possibility of the American Dream, and yet offers them happiness by escaping to places in which they can retreat from the harsh realities of the 20th century.
Draper wants the same things. While her desire for beautiful spaces unsurprisingly originates from her own childhood experiences in Tuxedo Park, she also seeks happiness. After 19 years of marriage, Draper finds herself divorced in 1931 and living temporarily in a one-bedroom apartment with Penelope and the family dog, who share the bunk beds while Draper sleeps on the couch. After she settles into single life – a difficult task for an upper-class woman in her forties – Draper's son goes to war. Despite her upper-class status, Draper experiences the first half of the 20th century in a very similar fashion as the American housewife. Romanticism is a means for these women to cope with the challenges of modern life.
Most of the early interior decorators work within their own social circle. Elsie de Wolfe, Sister Parish, and Nancy McClelland are just a few examples. They each create reputations based on services provided to members of their own social class. Draper, however, taps into the values of the middle class – both intentionally and accidentally. Her strategy is quite effective. In essence, Draper courts the middle class by offering free decorating advice that empowers them as individuals, then when a business tycoon asks her to design a retail store, restaurant, or hotel, Draper's fan base is just lying in wait to see their mentor's latest work. This yields high returns on the businessman's investment, the criterion by which he evaluates Draper's success. Combined with her business acumen, Draper's romantic – and decidedly feminine – approach to design allows her to become one of the most recognizable and successful names in the industry.