ORVAL HIXON'S SISTER AND FRIENDS

Cleo is Orval’s sister. She’s the one in the back on the left, wearing the sailor collar. The little boat is her’s and the other ladies in the boat are labelled as her ‘friends’. After a brief poke-around on the interwebs, I realized that this was all the information I would find on this photo. Cleo’s older brother, Orval Hixon was a prominent photographer, specializing in vaudeville portraits, including a very young and topless Joan Crawford. There’s really not that much information out there about Orval either other than a few articles on his contribution to the art world in the Mid-west.

Everything else, the names of the other women, their relationship, all of it is left up to my imagination.

I could tell the stories of each of these young ladies.

I know by just the look on the those young faces what kind of girls they are. Cleo is just barely part of the gang, clinging desperately to the edge. She will do anything they ask of her and will employ any and all tactics just to be included. Cleo knows that the young woman, I’ll call her Agnes, in the very front is infatuated with her older brother and all she had to say at the end of her invites was “Orval will be there. He’s bringing his camera. Please come.” Agnes will be the one to persuade the others; her family is among the wealthy and elite. They vacation in Europe every March. Everyone listens to Agnes because she is the ‘it’ girl. Her sister, Agatha sitting behind her, has little choice in the matter. A year younger than Agnes, Agatha would rather be at home playing her piano, but instead is always Agnes’s chaperone. Betty, the young lady sitting next to Cleo is actually Cleo’s best friend. They have known each other the longest, spent nights on sleeping porches tracing the stars and telling secrets. Betty does not understand Cleo’s obsession with this gang of women, a gang we would label as the cool girls today, but Betty understands Cleo’s desire to be liked. Don’t we all want to be liked?

Now the young lady with the tie, that’s Penelope though everyone calls her PenPen or Penny. Both nicknames cause Penelope to roll her eyes and mumble something under her breath about not being a child. Penelope is sitting in that boat because her social climbing mother practically shoved her out the door when Agnes and Agatha stopped by for tea with their mother. Agnes opened her mouth about Cleo’s little boating excursion, leaving out the part that Orval would be there with his camera. Agnes’s mother thought this sounded like a perfectly wholesome activity; she felt Cleo was a little beneath them socially, but seemed very pious. Agnes’s mother hoped that some of her piety might rub off on her daughters. Agnes knew how her mother felt about piety and Cleo and invitations from Cleo were used often by Agnes even when there was no invitation from Cleo. Agnes made her invitation to Penelope to join them sound perfunctory and expected out of kindness. Agnes was not ever going to admit this, she thought Penelope was the prettiest girl in their class. She was also very cool, not caring what anyone may say about her. Agnes was happy to invite Penelope along. She suspected that Penelope smoked cigarettes and nicked bottles of wine. Agnes wanted to be a bad girl, but lacked the bravery required to do anything on her own. So, she latched on to people who would do the bad things for her.

Penelope didn’t do any of those things except the not caring part. As far as she was concerned she was just biding her time until graduation. Her father had mentioned the possibility of sending Penelope to a girls’ college. Now Penelope would have been happier if he had left out the ‘girls’ part, but college was college. Her escape. Her freedom, or as much freedom as a young woman could expect in 1918. Penelope wanted to be a journalist and travel the world telling the stories of war torn nations and the every day struggles of the poor. She wanted action and adventure and purpose. This is why her gaze at the camera is one of boredom. Penelope is bored with the whole affair, but most particularly with Orval himself. What a waste of a man and talent. All he wanted was to stay here and take portraits of vaudeville starlets. Penelope wondered if she could get him to teach her some basic photography. Then thought better of it. She doubted she could tolerate his postering and egotistical manner, which she was sure he would have. She also didn’t doubt that he would easily construe their lesson as something else and Penelope would spend the whole time avoiding grabs and pinches.

Penelope has a story that will reach beyond the usual dutiful housewife.