5. An Ideal Magazine for the Ideal Woman: Grazia (1938–43)

The Italian Women’s rotocalchi and the Fascist Regime

The changes brought to the periodical press by rotogravure printing, which we have seen at work in the case of Omnibus, also had a profound effect on the sector of women’s magazines. As already mentioned, the very first popular magazine to be shaped and published as a rotocalco was Rizzoli’s Novella in 1927; then, in the 1930s, the women’s periodical press experienced a dynamic phase of development. The sector was particularly affected by the use of the rotogravure, which stimulated and, for the first time, differentiated production of magazines offering a varied content according to the diverse kinds of women readers targeted. The new rotocalchi expanded the readership, marking the beginning of a mass market in Italy for women’s periodicals, itself part of the new mass culture that was emerging during the Fascist era, in some ways shaped by Fascism itself.

In the nineteenth century, and before the advent of the rotogravure, women’s periodicals were mainly dedicated to fashion and the Arts and were aimed at the upper classes. From the 1920s onwards a few magazines started to include some more popular content, such as articles on sport and the cinema, albeit maintaining an elegant look and still focusing on the Arts and literature.² In the 1930s women’s illustrated magazines distinguished themselves from those periodicals in their frequency of publication, number of pages and quality of paper, as well as content: whereas earlier periodicals such as Lidel and Sovrana used glossy paper, had many pages and were published monthly, rotocalchi had fewer pages, used a lower-quality paper and were published weekly. These differences were also reflected in the price: a single issue of a women’s rotocalco was cheaper than other women’s periodicals, so the intended readership for the new magazines was clearly extended to include middle-class, ‘ordinary’ women.³ The innovative formula of the rotocalco always followed three principles: entertainment, escapism and advice. This approach allowed these kinds of magazine to reach a wide range of readers from different social strata, from the lower middle class to the haute bourgeoisie.

The success of women’s illustrated magazines was due not only to the technical and commercial innovations in printing described in Chapter 2, but also to decades of the development and refinement of women’s periodicals. If, in the nineteenth century, magazines aimed to shape and give advice to women whose interests and ideas were changing alongside the evolution of society and the organisation of the family, in the 1930s the new weeklies similarly suggested models for a ‘new woman’ that now reflected Fascist precepts but were not limited to them. Fascist-era women were experiencing a profound, and in some sense disconcerting, redefinition of their role in society, influenced not just by the regime but also by popular media, especially cinema. On the one hand, Fascist rhetoric aimed to push women back into the house and to institutionalise traditional roles. On the other hand, women were facing a new, stimulating environment which included an extension of their social, cultural and working life that was the result of the spread of capitalist consumerism and the progressive massification of society. It also reflected certain inner contradictions in Mussolini’s ideological apparatus, torn between ‘past’ and ‘future’.⁴ These contradictions found their expression in women’s rotocalchi.

Like other periodicals of the time, women’s magazines were granted a certain margin of freedom from censorship thanks to their entertaining and ostensibly apolitical nature, making these publications particularly revealing in terms of both the media and the portrayal of women.⁵ In particular, women’s rotocalchi revealed the dissonance between the Fascist regime’s idealised construct of womanhood and the forms of feminine identity that resonated with Italian women. For this reason, these magazines offer rich source material not only for the image of women proposed by the Fascist regime, but also for the new, complex models and roles of femininity emerging from within the modern forms of consumerism, which were spreading and which illustrated magazines both reflected and contributed to disseminating. While Fascist rhetoric adopted the Catholic, conservative ideal of the ‘exemplary bride and mother’,⁶ women’s rotocalchi echoed and encouraged the new values and interests that were spreading and taking hold among women at various levels of the urban middle class, thereby holding a mirror to society and its changes. The co-existence of conflicting models of womanhood in women’s magazines demonstrates the fact that they gave voice to aspirations diverging from the ideal ‘angel of the hearth’ proposed by Fascist propaganda and offered instead the model of a woman engaged with the modern world.

One of the ways in which women’s rotocalchi responded to modern roles for women was by echoing models coming from abroad, which often reflected the popularity of Hollywood lifestyles and images of beauty.⁷ As in the case of weeklies aimed at a broad reading public, such as Omnibus and L’Avventuroso, foreign periodicals, particularly French and American ones, influenced the form and content of Italian women’s illustrated weeklies and, in this case, contributed to the spreading of modern models of femininity. Conversely, the presence in the same women’s magazines of traditional Italian values, often steeped in Catholic and Fascist rhetoric, shows how the Italian magazines reinterpreted and adapted – Italianised – foreign models. The presence of a multidirectional dialogue between American and European culture and within European countries, and of traditional ideas of gender roles, can be clearly traced in Grazia, one of the most successful, dynamic magazines for women. Grazia gave a voice to both modern and traditional aspirations, addressing itself to women from all social classes, providing insights into the modernisation of women in Italy and the conflicting forces at play surrounding womanhood. First published in October 1938 by Mondadori, Grazia quickly became one of the main players in a wide field of publishing dedicated to women that shows the multifaceted aspects of Italian society at the end of the 1930s. The impact of the Mondadori magazine is tangible in its popularity – the only one launched before the Second World War that is still published – and in its impact on other magazines, like Eva, which in 1939 radically changed its appearance and adopted a look very similar to that of Grazia.⁸

Women and the Fascist Regime: The donna nuova

Consistent with the Fascist pursuit of an anthropological revolution and the creation of a ‘new man’, the ‘new woman’ represented his ideal companion, ready to put her life at the service of the Motherland by bearing children. Victoria de Grazia describes Fascist women as ‘prolific mates, dutiful mothers, and ardent patriots’, conceived alongside the new Fascist men, who were educated to ‘believe, obey, and fight’.⁹ Fascism aimed at a rigid separation between the public and the private sphere and hence between men and women, an objective which found a formal expression with the launch of the demographic campaign in 1927, after which women were officially to be the child-bearers of the nation. However, women were expected to be not only mothers but also active Fascists, although in a limited form, only as requested by the establishment and, in any case, subjugated to the male authority.¹⁰ In its contradictory approach, Fascism created a woman focused on motherhood and submissive to male authority, fulfilling her traditional role, but at the same time expected to be an active agent in the totalitarian State – that is to say, to have a modern role in the State, expressing patriotism and participating in the public sphere within Fascist organisations and events.

In spite of widespread Fascist propaganda, the regime’s ideal woman was not the only model of womanhood to which Italian women were exposed. Once again, the role of foreign cinema proved crucial. As mentioned with regard to Omnibus, Hollywood products, so easily accessible to the masses from large posters on the streets to popular fan magazines on the news-stands, helped to shape the formation of the ideal Italian woman. Hollywood stars in particular played an important role in suggesting new models of behaviour and beauty for Italian women, providing alternative gender roles and disseminating an alternative fantasy and ideal of the modern woman, one which the Fascist regime identified as the ‘crisis-woman’, exemplified by the figure of the American ‘flapper’ described in Chapter 1. Embodied by the actress Clara Bow, the typical flapper was ‘shameless, selfish, and honest’ and looking for ‘partners who offered passion and eroticism in marriage’.¹¹ This model of woman, characterised by, among other traits, a slim body, was perceived as a dangerous ideal which could threaten the survival of the nation, since thinness, according to the Fascist ideologues, was a sign of sterility that would cause a decline in the national birth rate and consequently lead to the end of the nation. This view was clearly expressed by Mussolini in a speech aimed at doctors in 1931: ‘[S]ono i pregiudizi della moda che finiscono per essere deleteri ai fini della forza. Ve ne cito uno: la moda del dimagramento eccessivo. Questa indebolisce la razza ed ha delle ripercussioni anche d’ordine e di natura economica’ [[F]ashion biases are what end up being detrimental to strength. I will mention one of them: the fashion of excessive slimming. This weakens the race and also has repercussions on the economic order and nature].¹²

The modern woman also threatened the traditionally patriarchal social order by subverting established morality: she sought independence, had a job and did not see maternity and marriage as her main goals. To oppose this model, which challenged the traditional patriarchal family and promoted women’s emancipation, Fascist propaganda created the ‘crisis-woman’. In contrast to this deviant model, and as part of its radical anthropological project, Mussolini’s government proposed its own ideal of the ‘new woman’. She was curvaceous and fertile, her femininity glorified in her biological function and her education aimed at raising healthy children. Motherhood had a central role in the fulfilment of this ideal, as the duty of the Fascist woman was first towards the Motherland and then towards her husband and children. This was linked to Mussolini’s idea that the strength of a nation lay in the number of its citizens:

[S]ono quelle che io chiamo storture della civiltà contemporanea, […] che la maternità attenui la bellezza muliebre; è precisamente vero il contrario come ognuno di voi può constatare. […] Voi sapete quale è la mia teoria: massimo di natalità, minimo di mortalità; ed i due aspetti del fenomeno sono interdipendenti. […] È vero, inoltre, che le Nazioni invecchiano e che, ad un certo momento, la natura imporrà le sue leggi inesorabili. Le Nazioni invecchiate avranno il tracollo formidabile della loro popolazione.¹³

[[T]hese are what I call the distortions of contemporary civilization, […] that motherhood reduces feminine beauty; precisely the opposite is true, as any of you can see. […] You know what my theory is: maximum birth rate, minimum mortality; and the two aspects of the phenomenon are interdependent. […] It is true, moreover, that Nations age and that, at a certain time, nature will impose its inexorable laws. Aged Nations will experience the impressive collapse of their population.]

The role of women as wives and mothers was traditionally interdependent and was reflected in women’s rotocalchi. However, due to the modernisation of women’s aspirations, in order to sell these illustrated magazines had to include other lifestyle aspirations and modern attitudes, so motherhood came to represent only one aspect of a multi-layered image of womanhood. This is particularly evident in the reception and reflection in women’s weeklies of women’s employment from the perspective of both the regime and of women’s daily reality. Echoing a rhetoric established after the end of the Great War, which saw women as one of the causes of veterans’ unemployment, Mussolini took a clear stance against it. In an article on Il Popolo d’Italia he argued that female workers had the same negative impact on the economy as machinery: both were taking jobs away from men and consequently hindering a man’s drive to create a family and even changing women’s biology:

Nella donna operaia o lavoratrice in genere, interseca oltre la disoccupazione anche la questione demografica. Il lavoro ove non è diretto impedimento distrae dalla generazione, fomenta una indipendenza e conseguenti mode fisiche e morali contrarie al parto. L’uomo, disorientato e soprattutto ‘disoccupato’ in tutti i sensi, finisce per rinunziare alla famiglia.¹⁴

[The labourer woman or working woman in general intersects beyond unemployment with the demographic issue. Work, where it is not a direct impediment, distracts from generation, foments an independence and consequent physical and moral fashions contrary to childbirth. The man, disoriented and above all ‘unemployed’ in every sense, ends up giving up the family.]

If, on the one hand, women’s rotocalchi echoed this stance and suggested a model of womanhood primarily linked to the traditional, nurturing role of women translated into woman as housewife, on the other hand, in order to ensure high sales figures they had to reflect the reality of Italian society, in which women were part of the workforce. Grazia reflected the complex, contradictory aspirations and images of womanhood in the Fascist regime and its popularity makes it a representative example of women’s illustrated magazines. Its issues in the years from 1938 to 1943 allow reflection on how the magazine mirrored and illustrated the complex socio-cultural positioning of its female readers during the final years of Mussolini’s rule.

Grazia between Marketing, Ideology and Modernity

The first issue of Grazia appeared on news-stands on 10 November 1938. Its cost, its look and its length distinguished it from other women’s magazines already in publication, such as Annabella, Eva and Gioia!. Grazia cost only eighty centesimi and contained thirty-two colour-print pages, making it cheaper and larger than other popular women’s publications at the time, which usually cost the same but contained only eight to sixteen pages in black and white.¹⁵ The first cover of Grazia, an illustration in colour, portrayed two women, one sitting on the arm of a recliner and the other standing beside her, graphically expressing the aim of the magazine to be ‘un’amica al vostro fianco’ [a friend by your side], as stated in a red subtitle (Fig. 28).

Although Grazia was a new publication, it was the formal continuation of another woman’s periodical, Sovrana, first published in 1927. Sovrana was a monthly magazine published on glossy paper by the Istituto Nazionale per la Propaganda Industriale e Commerciale from February 1927 until November 1938, when Mondadori bought the periodical and transformed it into a popular magazine format. The very first significant change that occurred when Sovrana became Grazia was in the intended readership. Sovrana had been aimed at the upper classes, as stated in the first issue in February 1927: ‘Non frivolezze, non plagi, non frasi fatte, ma azioni, riconoscimenti, realtà: sarà la nostra un’esposizione elegante di argomenti letterari, artistici, mondani che più interesseranno la categoria scelta dei nostri lettori’ [Not frivolousness, not plagiarism, not catchphrases, but actions, acknowledgments, realities: ours will be an elegant exposition of literary, artistic, sophisticated topics that will most interest the chosen category of our readers].¹⁶ Mondadori’s intention was instead to reach as many readers as possible, as confirmed by the presentation of Grazia in the first issue on 10 November 1938: ‘Sovrana, da questo numero, diventa Grazia. La trasformazione è avvenuta perché la rivista si avvicini di più a tutte le lettrici, di tutti gli strati sociali’ [From this issue onwards Sovrana becomes Grazia. The transformation has taken place so that the magazine will draw closer to all female readers from all social classes].¹⁷ In Mondadori’s idea, every woman would find space in Grazia, a change expressed by the title of the magazine, which became friendlier: from a noble title to a common name.

According to a series of letters analysed by Patrizia Landi, Arnoldo Mondadori had wanted to create a new women’s magazine since 1935; in 1937 he had even considered buying the rights to reproduce and translate a foreign magazine such as the French Marie-Claire (Paris: Prouvost, 1937–). Initially, the project had also involved the publisher Valentino Bompiani, who was working on a similar project himself. Bompiani was planning a new women’s weekly to be called Essere bella [Being Beautiful], aimed at the ‘donna italiana di media condizione’ [Italian middle-class women] and to be sold for fifty cents.¹⁸ The planned layout for this new periodical sought to avoid large illustrations or photomontages, aiming instead for a neat, elegant organisation of columns and few, essential illustrations. Mondadori’s and Bompiani’s differing views on the proposed style of the weekly ended their collaboration, so Mondadori launched his new rotocalco, Grazia, in line with his own project of an Italian magazine shaped on the successful models offered by foreign periodicals. Although when it was finally launched Grazia did not replicate Marie-Claire, the two publications shared similar features and, more importantly, adopted a similar approach to their readership. In the first issue of Marie-Claire, launched in March 1937, the editorial stated: ‘Vous êtes, toutes, un peu des Marie-Claire, ce journal a été conçu pour vous’ [You are all a little like Marie-Claire, this magazine has been designed for you], highlighting that women – the readers – were its main focus.¹⁹ Grazia had the same purpose: to put women at the centre; to provide them with useful tips and guidance; to entertain them; to inform them; and to reflect their concerns – but always with them as the point of reference.

The title of the two magazines, both common names, is also revealing of the intention of the periodicals to be accessible and create a connection with the reader. Between 1937 and 1944, when its publication was also halted because of the war, the main points of focus in Marie-Claire were fashion, beauty, housekeeping, cooking, marriage and motherhood, with the explicit aim to ‘[d]onner à la femme française, en un seul journal, chaque semaine, tout ce qui peut l’intéresser ou lui être utile’ [[g]ive French women, in a single journal, every week, everything that might interest or be useful to them].²⁰ The content and aim were not the only features Marie-Claire and Grazia had in common. Looking at the covers, important similarities can be noted also at the level of format and design. The covers of both magazines featured a close-up portrait of an elegant woman, with the title of the magazine at the top of the page (Fig. 29). The covers looked neat and elegant, with the date and price on the bottom-right side in both cases.²¹

A similar layout can also be found in other French women’s magazines, such as Confidences (Paris: [n. pub.], 1938–86) and Votre Bonheur (Paris: [n. pub.], 1938–39), which also featured close-up portraits of women on their covers, although the women appeared more domesticated and less glamorous than those in Marie-Claire and Grazia.

The European women’s magazines of the second half of the 1930s not only influenced and shaped one another, but were, like other sectors of the popular press, influenced in turn by American women’s magazines. Confidences, for example, was created on the model of the American confession-magazine True Story (New York: True Renditions, 1919–), whereas Marie-Claire, according to Nicholas Hewitt, ‘presented […] a format which was largely borrowed from American women’s magazine journalism’, the distinctive feature of which was the suggestion of women as ‘young and attractive, half-way between the housewife and the liberated woman’.²² Both Marie-Claire and Grazia boasted varied content that included serialised fiction, recipes and entertainment, all typical features found in the American popular women’s press. Looking at the covers of American magazines such as Vogue (New York: Turnure, 1892–1909; then Condé Nast, 1909–), or the Ladies’ Home Journal from 1937 and 1938, the similarities with Grazia and Marie-Claire are striking.²³ Covers consist of a close-up or medium-close-up portrait of women dressed à la mode and looking straight at the camera, the focus on their style, and the title of the magazine at the top in elegant characters.

Italian and French magazines for women were not unique in Europe. British and German magazines also shared the same structure and included articles on lifestyle, fashion, cookery, childcare, beauty and fashion. British magazines such as Woman’s Own (London: IPC Magazines Ltd, now Future Plc, 1932–) and the British edition of Good Housekeeping (London: National Magazine, 1922–), for example, were aimed at middle and educated working-class women and offered advice on housekeeping that followed the modern idea of a scientific approach to domestic life.²⁴ A more glamorous edge was instead offered by the German women’s magazines of the 1930s, such as Die Dame (Berlin: Ullstein, 1912–43) and Blatt der Hausfrau (Berlin: Ullstein, 1886–1944; then Brigitte, Hamburg: Gruner + Jahr, 1949–), which matched the modern, Hollywood-inspired model of womanhood in spite of efforts by the Nazi regime to disseminate a model of woman focused on child-bearing and -rearing. In other words, Die Dame and Brigitte offered their readers:

Luxusgeschöpfchen und Flapper […], die bonbonknabbernd auf der Couch liegen, Launen haben wie die schlimmste der Filmdiven, nebensächlichste Dinge zu Alternativfragen machen, mit freudschen Komplexen behaftet sind, suffragettenhafte Töne anschlagen – und alles andere sind als die vielen tüchtigen, liebenswürdigen und zuverlässigen Frauen und Mädchen, mit denen wir es bei unseren Gattinnen und Müttern, bei unseren Arbeitskameraden [sic] und Mitarbeiterinnen zu tun haben, und die wir hochachten und lieben.²⁵

[luxury creatures and flappers who lie on the couch nibbling sweets, have whims like the worst of film divas, turn the most trivial matters into dilemmas, are riddled with Freudian complexes, adopt a suffragette tone – and are nothing like the many capable, lovable and reliable women and girls we encounter as our wives and mothers, our colleagues and co-workers and whom we deeply respect and love.]

On the whole, European women’s magazines of the 1930s, as much as their American equivalent, offered their readership a similar set of features and were shaped as guides to an efficient, stylish domestic life to meet the modern woman’s demands and desires. Publications such as Marie-Claire and Grazia, then, seemed to offer the glamour of fashion periodicals but at the affordable price of popular magazines, establishing a model of the woman’s weekly which would endure after the war and indeed up to the present day. Grazia was part of a Europe-wide phenomenon that reflected foreign models in both content and design, but adapted these foreign models to Italian culture, a process of Italianisation of American and French culture that resulted in a hybrid product.

After June 1939 the cover photos for Grazia were created by Federico Patellani, who signed only with his surname but no other information. As with Omnibus, there is no detailed information on the Grazia collaborators; their articles are often unsigned, signed with a pseudonym, or only with the author’s initials. However, from a systematic analysis of Grazia it is possible to trace some of the key regular or recurrent contributors. Giorgio Scerbanenco and Wanda Bontà are two who, without a doubt, contributed to the magazine from the first to the last known issue (November 1938 to September 1943).²⁶ They both signed their stories and novels with their real names, but in their regular columns use pseudonyms: Luciano and Clementina respectively.²⁷ The fashion sections also had regular contributors whose identity is known, such as Brunetta (Bruna Mateldi), (Gino) Boccasile and Emma Calderini, while the artist Alberto Bianchi signed portraits of the readers’ children. The graphologist Giovanni Vian, theatre critic Mario Sanvito and columnist Cesare Zavattini (who addressed himself to mothers) were other regulars. Apart from authors of short stories or novels appearing in the magazine – such as Elisa Trapani, Ita Baraldi, Bruno Corra, Adriano Baracco, Annamaria Tedeschi, Claudio Del Mare, Lydia Capece, Carola Prosperi, Raul Radice and Pina Ballario – all the other regular contributors signed only with their first name or initials: Paola, Laura and Ley (fashion illustrators); Pupa (cooking column); Vitruvio (interior design); Elisa (etiquette); Vida (general advice); and O. N. (book reviews). From 1940 onwards new regular columnists appeared, such as Piera Ruffini, Giupa, Puntaspilli and Luigi – the latter with a column on men’s thoughts. The list of occasional contributors would be very long, but it is noticeable how many articles were simply signed with a female name like Pamela, Barbara, Donata, or Claudia, as if highlighting that Grazia was a place where any woman could share thoughts and advice and find a friendly voice. In 1942 another pseudonym appeared, ‘la massaia rurale’ [the rural housewife], which can be seen as an attempt made by Mondadori to reach country women and thus expand the readership.²⁸ Rural women were part of the readership excluded by traditional women’s magazines, which, as already mentioned, targeted mainly the upper classes, or at best the urban middle class. This was due mainly to the high illiteracy rate among country women, which lowered the percentage of readers from the rural class, but also to the traditional, although declining, isolation of rural communities. The attempt to reach country women with articles written specifically for them and, allegedly, by one of them points to Mondadori’s aim of making Grazia a magazine of interest for all Italian women in order to reach a mass readership.

From the first issue in November 1938 the general structure and content of the rotocalco remained consistent. The only changes were minor and concerned the day of distribution, the price and the style of the contents page. Initially Grazia appeared on news-stands on Saturday, changing to Thursday in 1939. The price increased from eighty cents in 1938 to two lire in 1942.²⁹ The number of pages also changed, from thirty-two in 1938 up to fifty-two in June 1941, dropping again from 21 August 1941 onwards ‘in ottemperanza al Decreto Ministeriale per la disciplina del consumo della carta’ [in compliance with the Ministerial Decree for the regulation of paper consumption].³⁰ The trend in the number of pages and price can be examined by taking the first issue of each year as a representative sample:

• November 1938: 31 pages, 80 cents
• January 1939: 36 pages, 80 cents
• January 1940: 28 pages, 1 lira
• January 1941: 36 pages, 1.20 lire
• January 1942: 44 pages, 2 lire
• January 1943: 36 pages, 2 lire

The change in price, number of pages and layout did not affect the frequency of publication, which remained weekly throughout the six years, in spite of the war and the difficulties it caused to the press industry in terms of paper supplies, distribution and sales.

Although Grazia was conceived and produced as an innovative magazine and distanced itself from traditional periodicals in price, layout, content and intended readership, in the 1930s it was not the only women’s rotocalco available to middle-class women. In 1933 Eva and Lei were launched by Vitagliano and Rizzoli respectively, whereas in 1937 the publisher Società Anonima Milanese distributed Gioia!. These weeklies had many similarities, such as serialised romance novels and short stories, fashion illustrations and advice columns. Even a graphologist column – where readers sent in their letters to have their handwriting analysed and their character traits inferred – was a common feature of Grazia, Lei and Gioia!, although the latter asked to be paid for the psychological profile of its readers. The most significant innovation introduced by the new formula of the illustrated weekly for women was the advice column, a feature common to all these publications and one which created intimacy and loyalty between the readers and the magazine. A column focused on a man’s point of view was another common trait. However, whereas in Lei and Gioia! the column was structured as an advice column, with a male writer answering the female readers’ letters, in Grazia it read like a journal through which readers could learn more about the thoughts of men. Structured like a personal diary, the column was first published on 6 August 1942 under the title ‘Diario di un uomo che possono leggere anche le donne’ [Diary of a man that women can read too] and simply signed by Luigi, whose real identity it has not been possible to uncover.

Eva and Lei published news and features on the Italian royal family as well as Mussolini’s family members, while Gioia! had a Catholic influence and almost no interest in fashion. Grazia distinguished itself by the absence of such news features; and its fashion columns were more practical than those in Eva and Lei and represented more of a central aspect for the magazine. Other elements that differentiated Grazia from other women’s weeklies were its friendly, informal language and the structure of the articles; it was not only the message delivered or the layout that made this periodical original, but also its informal approach to the readership. The magazine was organised so that it could be read as a conversation between two friends: Grazia and the reader. These elements offer more insights into the readership targeted, confirming the aim of Mondadori to reach a wide group of women across social classes and without any specific connotation, a reflection of the multifaceted models of femininity proposed by the magazine. It has been argued that Grazia was a truly innovative product the content of which was not influenced by Fascist ideology. According to this view, it was a magazine that distanced itself from the Fascist regime, suggesting models closer to a modern woman than to the traditional wife and mother.³¹ Other studies, however, suggest that Grazia was aligned with Fascist precepts, publishing columns that proposed a traditional model of femininity to the detriment of modern models.³² An in-depth analysis of Grazia demonstrates that it was indeed steeped in Fascist rhetoric and that if any kind of implicit resistance was present, it was the result of editorial strategies aimed at selling as many copies as possible.

Grazia was a commercial product and, as such, it responded to the law of markets. Popular magazines reflected societal habits, challenges and changes and by so doing promoted such changes, acting as a force that contributed to the modernisation of society. Therefore, although one could see in the articles dedicated to women in the workforce a proof of Grazia’s freedom from any ideological influence, these pieces are more a reflection of the transformations happening in Italian society and of commercial strategies aimed at selling as many copies as possible than a sign of any Fascist ideological belief. Further confirmation is found in the presence of such articles in other popular rotocalchi such as Eva, Lei and Gioia!, which engaged in discussions with their readers on women in the workforce, suggesting this was an unavoidable topic for magazines targeting mainly urban, middle-class women. Furthermore, considering the number of women in the workforce in the 1930s, the presence of articles that pay attention to such a large section of the readership can be explained in terms of marketing: a rotocalco that aimed to reach a wide readership could not avoid taking working women into account.³³ At the same time, however, the Fascist ideal model of a woman emerges throughout the magazine with articles on the household, motherhood and traditional women’s crafts such as knitting and sewing. For this reason it is also inaccurate to describe Grazia as a magazine that had nothing to do with the Fascist regime. This is especially true if we look at articles dedicated to the household. An entire section was devoted to marriage, with the image of a wife as submissive and focused on her husband and children, perfectly matching the Fascist ideal of the angel of the hearth, a model of femininity that began and ended in the household.³⁴

As a modern magazine which also wanted to entertain the readers, Grazia privileged frivolous topics such as fashion, beauty and festive events, so that it would be equally inaccurate to define it as a Fascist publication. Put differently, the image of women presented by Grazia was consistent with the Fascist ideal but not limited to it. The reason for the editorial decision to propose a modern model of woman as well seems to lie in the publishing market, confirming the complex process in the production of popular periodicals during the Fascist era, which cannot be reduced to a merely political or ideological aspect but is, rather, a common feature of the development of the popular press in this period. The spread of rotocalchi provided conflicting images of women, including the official and traditional model of mother and wife, and at the same time promoted new habits that reflected and contributed to disseminating modern feminine models, often coming from the United States. Women were attracted by the new femininity and standards of beauty represented by Hollywood stars, a fascination that the popular press, in Italy as much as in other European countries, was keen to offer to its readership in order to sell more copies of their publications.³⁵ Italian women’s periodicals of the time represented a point of intersection between these different models. Grazia in particular confirms the complexity of this situation, which reflected both the inner contradictions of the Fascist policies (which were pushing women back into the house and, at the same time, promoting their political involvement) and the conflict between traditional values and the new, modern models of femininity.

The First Issue of Grazia: 10 November 1938

The distinctive features and complexity of Grazia are evident right from its very first issue. Like Marie-Claire, Grazia presented itself as a friend to whom every woman could talk:

Questa rivista – che continua con nuovi propositi la tradizione di un’altra rivista alla quale si sostituisce – deve essere per voi, veramente ‘un’amica al vostro fianco’. Voi non siete una nostra lettrice: siete una nostra amica. Noi ci rivolgiamo a voi per esservi amicalmente d’aiuto nelle contingenze più varie della vita: dal consiglio per un pranzo in quattro con trenta lire, alla risposta ad una mamma che aspetta il primo bimbo; dalla favola di Biancaneve per il vostro bambino, al modo come si rimoderna un abito. E voi rivolgetevi a noi.³⁶

[This magazine – that continues with new purposes the tradition of another magazine that it replaces – must be for you, truly ‘a friend by your side’. You are not our reader: you are our friend. We turn to you to be amicably helpful in life’s most varied contingencies: from advice for a meal for four on thirty lira to an answer to a mother expecting her first baby; from a Snow-White fairy tale for your child to how to remodel a dress. And you can turn to us.]

In line with this statement Grazia was shaped like a guide to a happier life. Home economics, fitness, personal advice and beauty tips were the core ingredients in a magazine dedicated to the new Italian woman of the 1930s, struggling with the economic crisis and the campaign for economic self-sufficiency.

The table of contents, published on page 4 (Fig. 30), presents the columns of Grazia divided into sections along a series of main topics. In the first issue there are eight sections in total. The first is a section on happiness, ‘Per essere felice’ [To Be Happy], which includes columns such as ‘Vivere in due’ [Living As a Couple] about married life; ‘Essere donna’ [Being a Woman] about womanhood; and ‘Grazia vi scrive’ [Grazia Writes to You], one of the most typical and successful columns, in which Grazia replies to readers’ letters. The second section, ‘Per essere eleganti’ [To Be Elegant], is dedicated to fashion and consists of three articles explaining how to make hats, how to give an old dress a modern twist and how to make a pair of gloves. Each article provides practical guidance and tips on homemade fashion and includes illustrations and pictures, sewing models and advice on style. The third, ‘Per vivere bene in casa’ [To Live Well at Home], gives advice on housekeeping and includes two articles. The first suggests a menu for supper for four people without spending too much, while the second explains how to create one’s own lampshades for home décor. Both articles address home economics while also showing how to impress guests with little money. The fourth section, ‘Per essere bella’ [To Be Beautiful], is one of the shortest sections in this issue with only one article about beauty, which suggests techniques for staying beautiful in spite of having a cold. The fifth section is about children and includes a regular weekly column written by Zavattini, ‘I vostri bambini vi guardano’ [Your Children Look at You], in which mothers will find ‘un pensiero, un’immagine, riguardante i rapporti tra voi e i bambini’ [a thought, an image, concerning the relationship between you and your children]. Readers are invited to contribute to the creation of the section, as the page will be edited ‘con il vostro aiuto, lettrici, poiché da voi ci aspettiamo domande, suggerimenti, notizie o quant’altro possa contribuire a illuminarci reciprocamente su questo problema’ [with your help, readers, as we await from you questions, suggestions, news, or anything else that can help us to enlighten one another on this issue].³⁷ Consistent with the attention paid to sports by Mussolini’s ideological project, as well as by film stars, the sixth section is devoted to fitness. In ‘Per essere sana’ [To Be Healthy] one article explains how, in order to be beautiful, women needed to exercise daily, because make-up is not enough. A series of pictures shows different training routines with detailed explanation in the captions, encouraging women to exercise at home.³⁸ The seventh section is dedicated to entertainment, ‘Per essere lieta’ [To Be Happy], which publishes the first chapter of a novel by Raul Radice, ‘Tre sorelle’ [Three Sisters]. At the end of the issue two pages are dedicated to current events but are not listed in the table of contents. The section ‘In questi sette giorni’ [In These Seven Days] informs readers about the latest cultural events, film screenings, book releases and the theatre in order to help them to live their lives to the full: ‘[per] non rinchiudersi solo nel nostro angusto ed egoistico mondo, nei nostri minimi interessi, ecco un altro importante segreto per vivere interamente la propria vita’ [[so as] not to lock ourselves up only in our own narrow, selfish world, in our own minimal interests, here is another important secret to living one’s life to the full].³⁹

Looking at the contents of the first issue of Grazia, it is evident that the magazine sought to cover a wide range of topics and to help women to cope better with everyday life, consistent with the pattern of women’s popular periodicals established in Europe and the United States in the 1930s. It is also possible to see how Grazia distanced itself from Sovrana, targeting middle- and lower-middle-class readers, as demonstrated by articles on how to make the most out of a small income. Such techniques, used by the magazine to appeal to women from different backgrounds, emerge even more clearly in the informal approach used in the columns ‘Per essere donna’ and ‘Vivere in due’, both exemplifying the strategies the magazine employed to reach out to the everyday woman.

The Everyday Woman

Next to the statement by the magazine of its aims, a short piece simply signed ‘Luciano’ seemed to be directed at the reader herself. It was the first article in the regular column ‘Essere donna’ and reads like an informal letter written to a friend. Two aspects of this piece make it particularly noteworthy. First, it describes a woman with whom every female reader could identify, as it refers to leisure activities, fashion, lifestyle and jobs to which any young lady, whether an upper- or middle-class woman, a typist, maid, or housewife, could relate. The direct, informal language used by Luciano suggests an intimate knowledge of what being a woman meant and appealed to readers with statements exalting womanhood. Second, the piece draws on the rhetoric of the regime, revealing the influence of Fascist ideology in Grazia, as shown by two allusions to the role of women which match the Fascist ideal. In the first Luciano refers to women’s behaviour during the war: ‘Mi hai seguito […] fino all’orlo della trincea: volevi morire per la patria, e per me. Io ti ho detto “Abbi fede”. E tu sei tornata indietro, forte e obbediente, col tuo bambino in collo’ [You followed me […] to the edge of the trench: you wanted to die for the Motherland, and for me. I said to you, ‘Have faith’. And you went back, strong and obedient, with your child in your arms].⁴⁰ The second addresses a woman’s general place in society:

Vorrei domandarti se ti è più dolce essere moglie o essere madre: tu mi risponderesti che ti è dolce esser donna, che nel tuo dovere sta il tuo amore, e che misuri l’immenso compito affidato dalla patria al tuo cuore e alla tua volontà.⁴¹

[I would like to ask you whether it is sweeter for you to be a wife or to be a mother: you would answer that it is sweet for you to be a woman, that in your duty lies your love, and that you measure the immense task entrusted by the Motherland to your heart and will.]

In both cases, being a woman means being an obedient wife and dutiful mother devoted to the Motherland. Luciano’s words echo a woman’s identity as established by Fascist philosopher and ideologue Giovanni Gentile, that of ‘la donna che è del marito, ed è quel che è in quanto è di lui; ecco la donna a realizzare in quella di lui la sua propria individualità’ [the woman who is her husband’s, and she is that insofar as she is his; here the woman is to realise her own individuality in his]. They also echo Gentile’s definition of her nature as that of a mother before anything else:

La donna idealmente è madre prima di esser tale naturalmente. […] Madre per i figli, per i Fratelli, per gl’infermi, per i piccoli […], per tutti che possano beneficiare del suo amore e attingere a quella sua innata, originaria, essenziale maternità.⁴²

[A woman is a mother ideally before being a mother naturally. […] A mother for the children, for the Brothers, for the sick, for the little ones […], for all who can benefit from her love and draw on her inherent, original, essential motherhood.]

In his articles Luciano, whose real identity was not specified in the magazine but can be traced back to Giorgio Scerbanenco, clearly expresses aspects of Fascist morality and exalted traditional values, indicating how a woman should behave in order to be properly feminine and appreciated. The rigidly gendered ideology and virility of Fascist rhetoric emerge clearly from both statements: the man is the one who takes action, while the woman must obey and take care of children. The reference to a woman’s duty towards the Motherland is another clear, strong indicator of Fascist language. These details confirm that the magazine cannot be seen as separate from its contemporary society and Mussolini’s ruling system, since from the start it embraced the traditional roles for women proposed by the predominant culture.

At the same time, however, some aspects of a modern and, in some respects, non-traditional approach to women’s lives also appear in ‘Essere donna’. In January 1940, for example, writing about the ending of the festive season, Luciano refers to his imaginary reader as a woman in the workforce: ‘Sei pronta ad esser felice anche per la minima cosa; […] ad accogliere con un sorriso sincero, le giornate di lavoro, il tram che ti porta in ufficio’ [You are ready to be happy about even the slightest thing; […] to welcome the work day with a sincere smile, the streetcar that takes you to the office].⁴³ In the next issue he writes:

Sei certamente una piccola impiegata perduta tra i cento impiegati di un grande ufficio. Qualche domenica vai a sciare […]. Sabato sera, nel rifugio, avrete fatto un po’ di festa, avrete suonato, avrete tentato di ballare nei pochi centimetri quadrati liberi, […]. Poi ecco il lunedì, […]. Aria burrascosa in ufficio […]. Ti vedo alle due, in tram, […] indossi il vecchio abito da lavoro, […] che ora si mostra per quello che veramente è, una povera cosa di poco prezzo. Ti vedo pensare che una lunga settimana di giornate simili ti attende; una settimana senza cinema, perché bisogna fare economia, senza divertimenti.⁴⁴

[You are certainly a little employee lost among a hundred employees in a big office. Some Sundays you go skiing […]. On Saturday night, in the lodge, you were partying, you were playing, you were trying to dance in the few free square inches, […]. Then here comes Monday […]. Stormy air in the office, […]. I see you at two o’clock, in the streetcar, […] you are wearing the old work dress, […] which now shows itself for what it really is, a poor cheap thing. I see you thinking that a long week of similar days awaits you; a week with no films, because you have to economise, no entertainment.]

The woman emerging from Luciano’s piece is a young unmarried employee who enjoys modern leisure-time activities such as skiing, dancing and going to the cinema; a woman who cares about fashion and her appearance – Luciano points to ‘quel paltoncino rossiccio che faceva un po’ di figura quand’era nuovo, e che ora si mostra per quello che veramente è’ [that reddish little overcoat that made a bit of a splash when it was new and now shows itself for what it really is] – and has to give up entertaining activities to save money.⁴⁵ Having to economise on clothing or leisure time activities was a reality affecting many middle-class women, particularly after the start of the war, when a woman’s salary became an important, if not the only, source of income for a family. This is an aspect of Italian women’s life on which Luciano reflects in ‘Essere donna’ on 30 January 1941:

[Q]uesta ragazza non era certamente una donna di servizio. […] [E]ra forse una che non aveva mai pensato di fare la donna di servizio. Si è trovata costretta a farla, e fa il suo dovere. […] Veste male, non ha un soldo di cipria sul volto. […] [H]a una scrittura elegante, morbida, senza incertezze. Molte signore che io conosco hanno assai meno confidenza con la penna.⁴⁶

[[T]his girl was certainly not a maid. […] [S]he was perhaps one who had never thought of being a maid. She found herself compelled to do it, and she does her duty. […] She dresses badly, she does not have a penny’s worth of powder on her face. […] [S]he has elegant, soft handwriting, without uncertainty. Many ladies I know have far less confidence with the pen.]

Either due to the need to support the family financially, or to the lack of skilled jobs, the article portrays a woman who has had to take a humble job despite having an education and, possibly, upper-middle class origins. In ‘Essere donna’, Luciano mirrors Italian society of the time, echoing Fascist rhetoric but also acknowledging various modern roles and aspects of women, who often had to contribute to the family income, liked modern leisure activities and cared about their looks.

As mentioned earlier, the informal style of the articles, written as if directed specifically at the person reading them, is another of the principal features that made Grazia stand out from other magazines and make it such a convincing case study. Informal language had the effect of making it possible for every woman, from whichever social class, to feel connected with the magazine. Luciano’s style is a compelling example of this informality:

Quello che hai letto qualche volta nelle novelle, è capitato proprio a te. […] Il tuo incontro col romanzo non sarebbe mai avvenuto. Non puoi e non devi accettare appuntamenti dal primo sconosciuto che ti telefona. Secoli di geloso riserbo femminile pesano sulle tue spalle e ti rendono fiera come sei. […] È un’altra classe la tua, dove non si ascoltano mai le voci ignote, anche se si desidera tanto ascoltarle.⁴⁷

[What you sometimes read in the novellas happened to you. […] Your encounter with the novel would never happen. You cannot and should not accept dates from the first stranger who calls you. Centuries of jealous female discretion weigh on your shoulders and make you as proud as you are. […] Yours is a different class, in which you never listen to unknown voices, even though you long to hear them.]

Luciano addresses the woman using the informal form ‘tu’ and talks to her as if he knew her intimately: he hints at the woman’s romantic view of love encouraged by the novels she reads; and his response delineates a disillusioned woman whom he urges to respond with pride and discretion. It is also worth highlighting Luciano’s mention of romantic novels, which suggests the popularity of the genre among women in those years.⁴⁸

Luciano’s column exemplifies the patronising tone of Fascist rhetoric, minimising women’s role in society and the significance of their feelings and aspirations. This rhetoric is, however, used as an expression of the intimacy sought by Grazia with its readers, as well as the dissemination of the Fascist idea – and goal – of motherhood as the scope of a woman’s life:

Care lettrici, […] Mariuccia mi dà del tu, e questo va molto bene, mi saluta ‘ciao Luciano’ e anche questo va bene perché non mi piacciono i formalismi, ma mi scrive cose che vanno malissimo. […] Io dirò invece a Mariuccia che vi sono moltissime altre donne che hanno provato le sue stesse delusioni, e anche maggiori, eppure continuano a credere nella vita. […] Guarda, Mariuccia, come le madri credono nei loro figli, come sono certe del loro luminoso avvenire, del loro felice destino, anche quando tutto sembra contrario.⁴⁹

[Dear readers, […] Mariuccia uses the [informal] ‘tu’ and that is very good, she greets me with ‘hi Luciano’ and that is also good because I do not like formality, but she writes to me things that are very bad. […] I will instead tell Mariuccia that there are many other women who have experienced the same disappointments as her, and even greater, and yet they continue to believe in life. […] Look, Mariuccia, how mothers believe in their children, how certain they are of their bright future, of their happy destiny, even when everything seems contrary.]

Comforting a woman who wrote him a letter crying about her unhappiness, Luciano takes the figure of mothers as an example of strength and resilience (although these characteristics only emerge for the sake of their children and husbands) and talks to the readers as if they were having a conversation, sharing intimate thoughts and fears. ‘Essere donna’ illustrates the use of a friendly voice in Grazia that seeks to help women to live a happier life, often one consistent with the morals and values of the Fascist regime, and guides and supports them in difficult times. At the same time, its informal content and acknowledgement of modern aspirations reflect the readers’ reality – and hence the demands of the market – that often diverged from the ideal ‘new woman’. While not all columns adopted Fascist ideology and rhetoric, the alignment with the ruling power is visible not only in ‘Essere donna’, but also in other features that aim to guide Italian women to a happy life, like ‘Vivere in due’, which does so throughout the years of its publication (1938–43).

The Good Wife: ‘Vivere in due’

Signed by Clementina, pseudonym of Wanda Bontà, the column ‘Vivere in due’ is among the most original features that distinguished Grazia from other women’s weeklies. It is also one of the columns which, more than any other, reads like an intimate chat with a friend, since it is structured as both a wife’s journal and a woman-to-woman conversation. In ‘Vivere in due’ Clementina describes ordinary moments in her married life with Paolo, their everyday problems and joys. In the first issue Clementina introduces her little quarrels with Paolo, using an informal writing style: ‘È naturale quindi, che si cerchi di stare un po’ più comodi, ognuno a modo suo; lui pretende di avere un pettine pulito ed io una salvietta senza peli di barba’ [It is natural, then, that we try to be a little more comfortable, each in his or her own way; he demands to have a clean comb and I a towel without beard hairs].⁵⁰ From the start Clementina shortens the distance to the readers by sharing a private moment from her life with Paolo, a little argument about the annoying habits of the other half to which every couple can relate. In honest, colloquial language, Clementina not only shares details of her married life but, drawing on her own experience, she also gives advice to the reader on how to find happiness in a marriage. Overall, the column delivers the subtle message that the role of a woman is that of a good wife and mother, centred on the well-being of her husband and children: the ideal Fascist woman.

‘Vivere in due’ was published from 10 November 1938 onwards as a regular column, with very few exceptions (e.g., 17 September 1942 and 17 June 1943). Between 1938 and 1943 very few changes occurred to the column and these did not affect the message delivered or the focus, which remained on the theme of how to be a good wife. The articles on Clementina and Paolo’s family life always followed the same pattern: they began with a problem Clementina did not know how to deal with; followed by details about the development of the problem and its impact on the relationship between husband and wife; and finally ended with a positive outcome showing how a wife’s effort and sacrifice could bring happiness to the whole family.

On 6 November 1942 the column began to appear with the new title, ‘La pagina di Clementina’ [Clementina’s Page], marking a change in format and reflecting the introduction of articles in which, leaving out her own private life, the author gives detailed accounts of conversations with a friend. In these articles, by giving advice to her friend Clementina comments on different situations that might affect a woman’s life, such as her love life or problems in the workplace. These typically start with a call or a meeting with a friend who confides her distress and end with Clementina analysing the situation and providing a solution applicable to any woman experiencing a similar problem. With the exception of the issue published on 4 March 1943, in which two letters written by a wife and a husband respectively replaced Clementina’s article, ‘Vivere in due’ remained consistent throughout the Fascist years of Grazia.

Undoubtedly, the woman evoked in ‘Vivere in due’ conformed to the Fascist ideal of a compassionate angel of the hearth focussed on her husband’s needs, but, more importantly, the column connected with readers, expressing the everyday Italian woman’s intimate anxieties. An example of this is Clementina’s worries regarding the war in her account at Christmas 1940:

Io non so se il vostro Natale ha festeggiato alla sua mensa l’improvviso arrivo di un amato grigioverde, o ne ha sottolineato con tragico silenzio il posto vuoto. Io so però che ero con voi tutte nella chiesa […]. Il mio Natale, forse, è stato un po’ come tutti i vostri riuniti. Mio marito era vicino a me, ma entrambi pensavamo ai lontani, specialmente al marito di mia cognata Dora.⁵¹

[I do not know whether your Christmas table celebrated the sudden arrival of a beloved grey-green [uniformed soldier] or marked his empty place with tragic silence. I do know, however, that I was with all of you in the church […]. My Christmas was, perhaps, a bit like all of yours gathered together. My husband was close to me, but we both thought of our distant ones, especially my sister-in-law Dora’s husband.]

Earlier that year, in issue 87, published on 4 July 1940, less than a month after Italy had declared war on France on 10 June, Clementina wrote her first piece that mentions the war. She adopts a patriotic tone that gives women implicit advice on how to behave in such circumstances. Confessing her struggle to deal with Paolo’s new attitude of aggressive command and his excessive precision in implementing the blackout regulations, Clementina seizes the opportunity to tell Italian women to be supportive wives and citizens. After complaining about Paolo’s strictness, during an air raid she had had to take control of the situation and realised her husband was right to follow the rules set by the Fascist government. She expresses patriotism in praising the Italian Air Force: ‘[L]’allarme viene dato per semplice precauzione e una cintura validissima di aviatori italiani sta alla nostra difesa’ [[T]he alarm is sounded as a simple precaution and a very effective belt of Italian aviators stands in our defence]. Her role as the wife of a soldier and the mother to his children warrants similar praise: ‘È come s’egli fosse diventato un gigante e un arcangelo. Ma anch’io sento sulla mia fronte il riverbero della sua luce: perché custodirò i suoi figli, i figli di un soldato’ [It is as if he has become a giant and an archangel. But I, too, feel on my forehead the glare of his light: for I shall guard his children, the children of a soldier].⁵² She emerges from this piece as a strong wife who knows how to behave and assist her husband in support of the nation and the war cause: ‘[I]n tempo di guerra il meno che possiamo fare noi donne è di rinunciare alle crisi di nervi’ [[I]n wartime the least we women can do is to give up our nervous breakdowns].⁵³ Three aspects make this piece a persuasive example of Fascist influence: first, Clementina uses the religious rhetoric adopted by the dictatorship, with parallelism between archangels and soldiers; second, women become important because they are the mothers of the soldiers’ children, once again echoing the idea that a woman’s identity is strictly linked to her role as a wife and a mother – even though her first loyalty is towards the Fascist State; third, women are commonly seen as weak and whiny, so the way they can support the war effort is to be strong and to follow the men’s lead, echoing the idea of women as emotional creatures whose role in society cannot be the same as men’s.

A piece published on 11 July under the significant title ‘L’ora della patria’ [The Hour of the Motherland] provides further details on what Italian wives were experiencing and the attitude of Grazia towards the regime. Here Clementina describes the day Paolo received his conscription letter calling him to serve in the Army. On that day, in the morning her family’s new car had been confiscated by the Army and both Paolo and Clementina felt affected by the war for the first time. In spite of their never having talked about Paolo’s duties as a soldier, when Paolo told his wife he would be leaving in five days, Clementina was not surprised and did not cry; instead, she pragmatically organised a move to the countryside for herself and their three children, acting as if she had already known Paolo would have to leave. This piece reveals Clementina’s unspoken anxiety but also sends an encouraging message to all Italian wives who had to say goodbye to their husbands: ‘[È] così che bisogna lasciarsi. Con una parola d’amore che suoni piena di promesse come un’alba nuziale. Torniamo ad essere le fidanzate dei nostri sposi; ma con l’orgogliosa fierezza delle donne di Roma’ [This is how one has to part. With a word of love that sounds as full of promise as a wedding dawn. Let us again be the girlfriends of our grooms; but with the proud boldness of the women of Rome].⁵⁴ Using Fascist rhetoric and evoking the myth of Rome, Clementina again suggests that her readers should be proud of their nation and behave according to Fascist precepts. Women needed to demonstrate this strength particularly in wartime, when wives had to take care of the family and manage finances on their own, performing many of their husbands’ traditional roles in addition to their own. Clementina personifies this model of ‘domestic soldier’:

Io non sono una donna d’affari, ho sempre lasciato fare a Paolo […] ma ora provo un gran bisogno di agire, di diventare una donna forte e saggia la quale sappia affrontare le responsabilità di un’ora di Guerra, di un’ora nella quale anche le piccole mogli nate soltanto per amare debbano diventare energiche mogli di soldati.⁵⁵

[I am not a businesswoman, I have always left this to Paolo […] but now I feel a great need to act, to become a strong and wise woman who knows how to face the responsibilities of an hour of War, of an hour in which even little wives born only to love must become energetic wives of soldiers.]

Not surprisingly, this piece relies on the Fascist idea of a woman whose importance is strictly linked to her married status. The idea of women ‘born only to love’ is another echo of Gentile’s theorisation of womanhood, broadly present in Clementina’s writings.

These articles on how to be a good woman in wartime are not the only self-evident example of the Fascist ‘new woman’ provided by ‘Vivere in due’. In many articles Clementina also addresses the Fascist model of beauty, whose femininity is expressed by her ‘curvy’, healthy appearance and whose strength can be found in her practical approach to life, focused on pleasing her husband and providing new children for the Motherland.⁵⁶ ‘Vivere in due’ was exceptional in Grazia: it was the only column that in those years regularly mentioned the war and its difficulties, reflecting real-time events, feelings and fears of Italian women. In its other content Grazia remained mainly focused on fashion, literature and general advice even after June 1940 – that is to say, it remained a commercial product for entertainment – whereas Clementina’s diary mirrored the hard times through which Italian families were living.

However, after a few articles describing Paolo’s difficulty in returning to normal life after fighting in Greece, ‘Vivere in due’ changes its tone from 5 June 1941 onwards. Clementina’s narration resumes a cheerful, light-hearted tone, describing once again everyday occurrences and her petty quarrels with Paolo. The column also starts to publish general advice on how to find a husband and maintain a happy married life, as though the war were only a memory. This new attitude, introduced in June 1941, continues through 1942 and into 1943. During its last year Clementina’s page becomes more of a conversation with her readers than a chronicle of her married life. From January to April 1943 many of the articles take the form of conversations with women, friends or female acquaintances with whom Clementina discusses various subjects, from coping with the cruel wife of a supervisor to surviving widowhood. On 4 February 1943, for example, Clementina recalls a conversation with a recently married young woman who misses living with her mother because she preferred her life as a daughter to her new life as a wife.⁵⁷ In the following issue, another young wife experiences exactly the opposite feeling: right after the wedding her husband left for South America and the young bride had to move back into her family home, much to her disappointment. The young wife loathes living with her parents again after having experienced the joy of sharing a house with her beloved husband.⁵⁸ In both cases, recently married women who felt unhappy about their situation could relate to the problem and find comfort in Clementina’s words.

The most notable change in the column came in 1943, when Clementina began to offer specific responses to her readers’ letters. On 15 April, for example, she replies to a letter of reproach written by a woman called Marisa, who criticises Clementina for her lack of consideration towards women who had lost their home due to the war: ‘Tu che rimpiangi il tuo appartamento di città che sai però di ritrovare, non comprendi di urtare così la suscettibilità di tante donne che quella casa non l’hanno più’ [You regret your city apartment that you know you will find again but you do not understand that you are thereby hurting the susceptibility of so many women who no longer have that home].⁵⁹ Clementina replies, informing her readers that just three days earlier her apartment in Milan had been destroyed in an air raid, putting herself in the same position as the reader and sharing the same suffering. She also highlights the fact that she forces herself to write about more cheerful topics in order to distract her readers rather than adding her pain to theirs, confirming the aim of Grazia to entertain and distract: ‘Marisa, il mio compito è di dipingere sempre un po’ più bella la realtà, di ravvivare le vostre speranze, di non accrescere le vostre pene con la narrazione delle mie’ [Marisa, my task is always to paint reality a little more beautifully, to revive your hopes, not to increase your sorrows by telling you mine].⁶⁰

As a guide on how to be a good wife, ‘Vivere in due’ offers vivid testimony to what it meant to be an ordinary Italian woman in the late 1930s in the light of Fascist ideals that were advanced by Grazia but were not always possible to attain. Like Luciano’s column, Clementina’s articles acknowledged the reality of Italian women’s lives at the time, addressing the real problems women could experience in the home or the workplace, the need for supporting the family financially in the wartime and everyday marriage problems. Clementina’s column is, then, another representative example of the multidimensional nature of Italian women’s experience in the last years of Fascist rule and of the different models of femininity to which they were exposed. Although in ‘Vivere in due’ the predominant message echoes the Fascist ideal of the angel of the hearth, it is possible to find throughout the magazine modern models of femininity complementary to the Fascist ideal, often delivered by a visual subtext. The regular presence of make-up advertisements next to Clementina’s column, for example, points to both a modern form of consumption and to the attention paid by women to a model of beauty closer to modern, glamorous, foreign models than to the ideal Fascist woman.⁶¹ The importance of Clementina’s column lies also in the interaction between the author and her readers, whose letters are often mentioned and sometimes quoted. Assuming the letters Clementina received were genuine and not fictitious, these exchanges offer significant insights into the thoughts and worries of Italian women. Although the letters reflect the views of only a portion of the Italian population, the popularity of Grazia and its commercial success make it a relevant indicator of Italian women’s thoughts, dreams and social habits in this period. Similarly, the column dedicated to all readers’ letters, ‘Grazia vi scrive’, is another primary source which sheds light on Italian women’s experience in the Fascist era and hence provides further evidence of the presence of modern models of womanhood despite the predominant Fascist rhetoric.

Advice in Grazia

Like ‘Lettere a Mura’ [Letters to Mura] in Lei (later Annabella), ‘Solo per te – lettere a Sonia’ [Only for You – Letters to Sonia] in Eva and ‘Risponde lei’ [She Answers] in Gioia!, Grazia had an advice column which responded to readers’ letters, providing advice and comments to readers. Although the advice column was part of the evolution in Italian women’s periodicals that had started in the nineteenth century, in the 1930s women’s illustrated weeklies turned the letters column (rubriche della posta) into a fundamental feature of these magazines and a distinctive symbol of the mass readership they targeted.⁶² The formula of an advice section was popular in all women’s rotocalchi, but ‘Grazia vi scrive’ is unique because it uses colloquial language that highlights the closeness between the reader and the magazine and reads more informally than other advice columns. The use by Grazia of a familiar tone, here as elsewhere in the magazine, gives the impression that the magazine’s writers knew their readership intimately.

The advice column in Mondadori’s rotocalco reports only the name, often a pseudonym, of the author of the letter, followed by the answer given by Grazia. The ‘Lettere a Mura’ in Lei has the same structure, with the reader’s name in bold preceding Mura’s answer and the content of the letter never quoted. The two columns thus look alike. The writing style and approach to the readership are, however, different: Mura writes like an expert, distancing herself from the readers, whereas Grazia adopts a friendly tone, answering as someone close to the author of the letter. In December 1939, for example, Mura writes to ‘Roma Torino 9222’: ‘Scrivetemi pure liberamente. Indirizzate presso “Annabella”. Vi risponderò al più presto’ [Feel free to write to me. Address it to ‘Annabella’. I shall answer as soon as possible].⁶³ A week earlier Grazia had provided a similar answer to ‘Cilena’: ‘Aspetto presto la tua lettera, e farò il possibile per aiutarti’ [I look forward to receiving your letter soon and I shall do my best to help you].⁶⁴ Both advice columnists give the same response, but the tone of the two answers is completely different. Mura uses the polite form voi (which replaces the form lei abolished by the Fascist regime in 1938) and her answer is professional and detached in tone; Grazia’s answer uses the familiar ‘tu’ form instead, and is colloquial and friendly in tone.⁶⁵ Another example further demonstrates this difference:

Giovane fascista 1921. Sì, è bene non far regali, per nessuna ragione. Il regalo più bello che si può fare a una persona alla quale si vuol bene, è una parola d’amore. Ed è già molto nella vostra condizione. Mi auguro che il vostro fidanzato prenda presto il suo diploma, che si metta a lavorare e che subito coroni il vostro comune sogno di gioia. (‘Lettere a Mura’)

Maria Franca 19 Se egli viene spesso nel negozio di tua madre, può trovare da sè [sic], se lo vuole, l’occasione di avvicinarsi a te. Altrimenti è inutile che sia tu a prendere iniziative non servirebbero a niente. Come liquidarlo? Che brutta parola! E poi non mi sembra il caso di usarla per uno che non ti ha mai dimostrato una sua speciale simpatia. (‘Grazia vi scrive’)⁶⁶

[Young Fascist 1921. Yes, it is good not to give gifts, for any reason. The best gift one can give to a person one cares about is a word of love. And that is already a lot in your [vostra] condition. I hope your fiancé will soon obtain his diploma, start to work and immediately fulfil your common dream of joy. (‘Letters to Mura’)

Maria Franca 19 If he often comes to your mother’s store, he can find for himself, if he wants to, an opportunity to approach you. Otherwise it is useless for you to take initiatives that would serve no purpose. How to liquidate him? What an ugly word! Besides, I don’t think it’s appropriate to use it for someone who has never shown you any special sympathy.] (‘Grazia Writes to You’)

Although Lei and Grazia looked very similar, both in content and appearance, there was an important difference between them: Mondadori’s aim to make Grazia read like a conversation with a friend was translated into friendly, colloquial language that contributed to differentiating his magazine from other women’s rotocalchi.

In the few issues of 1938 the column ‘Grazia vi scrive’ occupied two pages in the middle of the magazine. Each answer had a title that summarised the main focus of the advice, followed by the response and the name of the author. One letter, on the right side of the second page, was highlighted in italics (Fig. 31). By December 1938 the appearance of the column had marginally changed and some of the answers to readers’ questions were highlighted by a frame or the use of italics (Fig. 32).

In the first issue of February 1939 two answers focused on hairstyles are written in italics and put into a frame under the title ‘Bellezza’ [Beauty]. The first one is particularly interesting, because it is revealing of the predominant hairstyle in Italy in 1939 as suggested by Grazia: ‘Spazzola molto i tuoi capelli e ammorbidiscili con buone brillantine liquide. Pettinali tesi. […] Sono assai più di moda le teste lisce di quelle troppo ondulate. Non tagliare i capelli, si portano lunghi’ [Brush your hair a lot and soften it with good liquid brilliantine. Comb it taut. […] Straight hair is far more fashionable than hair that is too wavy. Do not cut your hair, it is worn long].⁶⁷ The hairstyle proposed went in the opposite direction to what was fashionable in Hollywood and disseminated through American films and advertisements, in which actresses and models wore their hair short and curled.⁶⁸

In this issue the magazine answered fourteen letters, addressing each reader with the intimacy and honesty of a friend, as the following two examples demonstrate. In the first Grazia comments on the nature of a relationship:

Col tempo Cara, il rapporto che mi descrivi, così come s’è svolto finora, mi sembra più un legame di simpatia che altro; una simpatia che poteva cambiar nome se i vostri temperamenti fossero stati fatti apposta per intendersi; ma non mi pare, se bastarono i due futili episodi che mi narri ad offendere la vostra armonia.⁶⁹

[In time Dear [friend], the relationship you describe to me, as it has unfolded so far, seems to me more a bond of sympathy than anything else, a sympathy that could have changed its name if your temperaments had been made to understand each other; but I don’t think so, if the two futile episodes you narrate to me were enough to offend harmony between you.]

In the second she rebukes:

Cambiar metodo Amica mia, lo sai che con l’orgoglio e ripicchi si guasta tutto? Nel tuo caso io consiglierei di mettervi d’accordo, […] dopo questo proposito, potrai riprendere la tua amicizia e parlare di argomenti un po’ più profondi che ti aiuteranno a conoscere gli altri e a legarti per affinità di gusti, per reciproca ammirazione di certi sentimenti che le scaramucce di ora ti hanno fatto ignorare. Con affetto.⁷⁰

[Change your method My friend, do you know that with pride and spitefulness you spoil everything? In your case, I would advise you to come to an agreement, […] after this resolution you will be able to resume your friendship and talk about topics a little more deeply and this will help you get to know others and bond through an affinity of tastes, through mutual admiration of certain feelings that current skirmishes have made you ignore. With affection.]

The absence of any explicit quotation from the letters eased the process of identification discussed earlier because anyone could read an answer as a response to his or her own problems, making the advice given in Grazia accessible to anyone experiencing a similar issue.

Throughout 1939 the column went through a number of further changes, so that by the end of the year it looked entirely different. Three pages of the magazine were now devoted to the column: the eye-catching second, third and fourth pages. ‘Grazia vi scrive’ thus became the very first column a reader would see on opening the magazine. This change also affected the appearance of the column, which now had only the first answer highlighted in italics. Some of the answers were shortened; and the name of the reader who had sent the letter became the title of each response: ‘Eti. Non badare a tante sciocche superstizioni; sono cose che non hanno alcuna importanza. Per le tue pustoline sarà bene che tu faccia una cura interna’ [Eti. Don’t mind so many silly superstitions; these things are of no importance. For your pimples, it will be good for you to take an internal cure].⁷¹ In some cases the response was only one sentence long, making it intelligible only to the author of the letter. However, this change did not affect the number of readers who asked for advice. On the contrary, the published responses grew to more than twenty in each issue, demonstrating the popularity of the section.

The women who wrote to Grazia asked for advice on various issues, from fashion style to personal problems, as the following two examples from 18 January 1940 show:

Graziella - Roma Delle contrarietà, per quanto gravi siano, non devono farti dire che odi la vita; le contrarietà si superano, con viso più o meno sorridente, ma non devono indurre in nessun modo ad odiare.⁷²

[Setbacks, however serious they may be, must not make you say that you hate life; setbacks can be overcome, with a more or less smiling face, but they must not in any way induce hatred.]

Fiduciosa - Milano 2019;anno sono molto di moda, per chi sappia sciare bene, i calzoni a fuso […]. Tessuto gabardine e tinta rosso scuro. Accompagnali con maglioni di colori vivaci.⁷³

[This year leggings trousers are very much in fashion, for those who know how to ski well […]. Gabardine fabric and dark red dye. Pair them with brightly coloured jumpers.]

Women were not the only readers who wrote to Grazia; men also sent letters asking for advice. It was not common for men to write to women’s magazines and those who did were in a minority, but they did write. From the answers given by Grazia, it seems that they were mainly young men aiming to be fashion illustrators or novelists: ‘[I] tuoi scritti sono ancora immaturi per la pubblicazione, […] le poesie poi hanno troppe reminiscenze scolastiche trapiantate di sana pianta’ [[Y]our writings are still too immature for publication, […] furthermore, your poems have too many echoes of school readings reused verbatim], wrote Grazia to one reader in December 1939.⁷⁴ Some of them, a minority within the minority, asked for advice on women and love life: ‘Fate bene a farvi vedere un po’ sostenuto. Per lo meno in tal modo riuscirete a provocare un po’ di sincerità da parte della donna che amate’ [You [voi] do well to show some reservations. At least that way you [voi] will be able to inspire some sincerity from the woman you love], reads an answer published in the same issue.⁷⁵ In early 1940 Grazia replied to another man as follows: ‘Ho passato la tua lettera a Clementina che dedicherà un articolo al tuo caso. All’assidua lettrice di cui parli non sfuggirà certamente. Spero che l’effetto giovi a te, che hai ragione’ [I have passed on your letter to Clementina, who will devote an article to your case. The assiduous reader you mention will certainly not miss it. I hope the effect will benefit you, that you are right].⁷⁶ It is worth noting that Clementina is here mentioned as a real woman, someone who is on the editorial staff and whose advice can be sought through writing to Grazia. This reinforces the structure of the magazine as a conversation in which the women who write in the magazine and the readers are all connected, as if they were all in the same room. The fact that some men wrote asking for advice on their talents or love life can be taken as a demonstration of the popularity of weeklies, and particularly of Grazia, suggesting the magazine was often read by other members of the family in the household (or at least this was the impression the editors wished to give).⁷⁷

A further important change to ‘Grazia vi scrive’ occurred on 6 March 1941, when the previously unsigned section started to be signed by ‘Ita’.⁷⁸ As discussed in the introduction to the magazine, many regular writers signed their contributions only with a pseudonym or with their initials, masking their identity. This is the case with Ita, who, as far as we know, could easily have been the author of the section all along. However, a change in the tone of the answers is noticeable: the responses become more ironic and personal, suggesting a significant change in the editorial staff behind the advice column. One of the new elements in Ita’s advice is her references to her own private experience, as seen on 6 March 1941 in her first response to one of the rare letters from men:

Il guaio è, caro Floc disperato, che probabilmente tu non hai ancora incominciato a raderti. […] Per finire ti dirò quel che mi diceva il nonno quando ero giovinetta. A dieci anni: – Papà è un dio. – A quindici: –Papà non capisce niente. – A venti: – Papà capisce ma è in arretrato. – A trenta: – Papà aveva ragione.

Non dimenticarmi, Floc! … Ti giuro che non sono Socrate. Neanche sua figlia, te lo giuro.⁷⁹

[The trouble, dear desperate Floc, is that you probably have not yet begun to shave. […] To finish, I will tell you what my grandfather used to tell me when I was a young girl. At ten: – Dad is a god. – At fifteen: – Dad doesn’t understand anything. – At twenty: – Papa understands but is behind the times. – At thirty: – Dad was right.Don’t forget me, Floc! … I swear I am not Socrates. Nor his daughter, truly.]

Ita’s use of memories of her own life increases the connection with the reader, creating a more vivid sense of a conversation between two friends, as the following examples show. The first concerns her family:

Una fervente ammiratrice: M. C. Quando ero bambina avevo una cuginetta di diciott’anni che si disperava di non riuscire a superare il metro e cinquanta di altezza. Il giorno che mio nonno seppe la ragione dei suoi pianti, le tirò gli orecchi e le disse: – Sciocchina, non sai che in piccola botte ci sta buon vino?⁸⁰

[A fervent admirer: M. C. When I was a little girl, I had a young cousin of eighteen who despaired that she could not grow taller than five feet. The day my grandfather learned the reason for her tears, he pulled her ears and said, – Silly girl, don’t you know that good wine comes in small casks?]

The second relates to the young Ita herself:

Ita sposerà un aviatore […] Mi hai conquistata di colpo. Così vorrei che fossero tutte le ragazze della tua età. Così dovrebbero essere. Ti abbraccio, confidandoti che da bambina io volevo sposare mio Padre.⁸¹

[Ita is going to marry an aviator …] You have suddenly won me over. That’s how I wish all girls your age were. This is how they should be. I hug you, confiding to you that as a child I wanted to marry my Father.]

The third concerns Ita’s professional ambitions:

Maria Luisa Iametti Anch’io cara amica, ho visto mostri che ingoiano carta e vomitano a migliaia pagine stampate, anch’io ne ho subito il fascino. […] Ero allora poco più che adolescente e già lavoravo di penne di notte e di giorno, in ogni ritaglio di tempo, a scapito degli studi e con grande indignazione della mia famiglia che negava ogni merito al mio lavoro.

Quel giorno nei forni della grande Casa Editrice […] un altro odore mi colpì: sudore umano, terra, olio, sangue, tutte queste cose e altre insieme. E fu tale la mia esaltazione che davanti alla rotativa uscii a dire con slancio: ‘Ah, mi ci butterei dentro!’ […] ‘Il motore dell’Arte è l’audacia’, questo è il mio motto. Se ti riesce servilo, cara e impetuosa amica. Ti auguro di non pentirtene un giorno.⁸²

[Maria Luisa Iametti I too, dear friend, have seen monsters swallowing paper and spewing out printed pages by the thousands, I too have been fascinated by them. […] I was then little more than a teenager and was already working with pens by night and day, in every scrap of time, to the detriment of my studies and to the great indignation of my family, who denied any merit to my work.

That day in the ovens of the great Publishing House […] another smell hit me: human sweat, earth, oil, blood, all these things and others together. And such was my exaltation that in front of the press I went out and said with élan, ‘Ah, I’d throw myself into it!’ […] ‘The engine of Art is audacity’, that is my motto. If you can serve it, my dear and impetuous friend. I wish that you may not regret it one day.]

The answer to ‘Maria Luisa Iametti’ is particularly revealing. Ita talks about her experience as a writer and, more importantly, as an employee. This letter offers two crucial pieces of information. First, it demonstrates that among the readers of Grazia there were women in the workforce (or that Mondadori thought so and hence published content that could be relatable to those readers); second, it offers first-hand testimony to women in the publishing sector. Ita describes the difficulties she had to face to become a writer, encouraging the reader to pursue her own dream. In her answer Ita emerges as a modern woman who followed her dreams and challenged convention and traditional expectations, ‘to the detriment of my studies and to the great indignation of my family, who denied any merit to my work’.⁸³ Most importantly, Ita’s answer is another example of the modern model of woman offered by Grazia in spite of the predominant Fascist rhetoric.

Another change to the column brought by Ita’s style is the light-hearted tone of her answers, especially when addressed to young readers, highlighting that Grazia became a point of reference for teenage girls as well as young women:

Sogni d’oro Ah, tu sei la frequentatrice della quinta ginnasiale! Congratulazioni. Tutto quello che mi dici è bello salvo lo stile e la scrittura e il resto. Però come vorrei avere i tuoi quindici anni per scrivere letterine simili, cara, piccola pasticciona!⁸⁴

[Sweet dreams Ah, you are the fifth-year ginnasio [first classes of secondary school] attendee! Congratulations! Everything you tell me is nice except the style and the writing and the rest. Though how I wish I were fifteen years old like you so as to write such little letters, my dear little bungler!]

On another occasion, Ita apparently makes fun of her correspondent and herself:

Orietta e Francesca. Eccomi qua, ma senza risposta perché ho dimenticato le domande, e non trovo più la vostra precedente lettera. Cosa volevate vecchie maramalde? Quello scuriccite mi è andato alla testa e non riesco a rimettermi in essere. Bene, se volete per telegrafo domande e risposte. Io aspetto, ma non scuriccita. Oh, no no, niente affatto scuriccita! Anzi allegrissima. C’è il sole e ho l’anima in festa!⁸⁵

[Orietta and Francesca. Here I am, but without answers because I forgot the questions and I can no longer find your previous letter. What did you old pests want? That [mischief] has gone to my head and I can’t get back to myself. Well, if you want, telegraph questions and answers. I’ll wait, but no [mischiefs]. Oh, no no, no [mischief] at all! In fact cheerful. It’s sunny and my soul is celebrating!]

In response to another reader, she addresses the topic of weight:

Sogno d’oro Ma certo che non ‘ti mangio’. Giungi dopo un piatto di spaghetti alle vongole e dopo gli spaghetti alle vongole io non mangio che una pera. Il tuo peso è ben lontano dal segnare il giusto. Se lo tenessero così scarso i bottegai sarebbero tutti in prigione. Ti mancano quindici chili.⁸⁶

[Sweet dream Of course I won’t ‘eat you’. You arrive after a plate of spaghetti with clams; and after spaghetti with clams I eat nothing but a pear. Your weight is far from the right mark. If they kept it that low, the shopkeepers would all be in jail. You are fifteen pounds short.]

Finally, she compares herself to canonical figures:

Eva 1941 Cara Eva, studentessa liceale, eccomi ai tuoi ordini. Come Virgilio ha fatto da guida a Dante, Ita farà da guida a te. Mi sia permesso il paragone eccelso. Vorrei condurti difilato in paradiso e senza passare per le terribili stazioni dell’inferno e del purgatorio. Mi ci provo. […] La tua carta è bella. Lo fosse altrettanto la tua scrittura!⁸⁷

[Eva 1941 Dear Eva, high-school student, here I am at your command. As Virgil guided Dante, Ita will guide you. Allow me the lofty comparison. I would like to lead you straight to Heaven and without passing through the terrible stations of Hell and Purgatory. I try myself. […] Your paper is beautiful. If only your prose were so, too!]

Ita engages in jokes with her readers, shortening the distance between them and almost pushing to an extreme the colloquial style that characterises Grazia from the start. More importantly, these answers are revealing of the young age of some of the readers – ‘Sogni d’oro’ and ‘Eva 1941’, for example, were in high school – thus revealing some of the demographic reached by Grazia. The young age of these readers possibly explains Ita’s friendly, playful tone.

The answers given by Grazia to the many readers who ask for advice on their love life, possibly the most popular topic in the advice column, sound friendly but less ironic and hint at an older age group:

Trieste G. Mia cara, dopo quattro anni una relazione non può essere ancora al punto del mezzo fidanzamento. È un po’ tardi ora, per chiarire le situazioni. Rifletti: se quattro anni fa tu avessi messo quel giovine con le spalle al muro, della sua relazione con colei che tu chiami l’intrusa non resterebbe, forse, neppure il ricordo. Nel caso che egli avesse preferito rinunziare a te avresti potuto utilizzare meglio i quattro anni di giovinezza che hai perduto. […] Non aver paura di perderlo. Se ti ama resterà; e se non ti ama, cosa avrai perduto? Un’illusione che poteva divenirti fatale. Spero che la tua fermezza non ti procuri un grande dolore […]. Se invece il destino ti sarà contrario uscirai da questa passione con la coscienza pulita e ancora nel bel fiore dell’età, per rivolgerti a un uomo più degno che possa darti una felicità sana e duratura. La meriti. Scrivimi presto. Aspetterò con ansia tue notizie.⁸⁸

[Trieste G. My dear, after four years a relationship cannot still be at the point of half-engagement. It is a little late now to clear the air. Think about it: if you had cornered that young man four years ago, perhaps there would not even be a memory left of his relationship with the one you call the intruder. In the event he had preferred to give you up, you could have made better use of the four years of youth you lost. […] Do not be afraid of losing him. If he loves you, he will stay; and if he does not love you, what will you have lost? An illusion that could have become fatal for you. I hope that your determination will not bring you great pain […]. If, on the other hand, fate is against you, you will come out of this passion with a clear conscience and still in the prime of life, free to turn to a worthier man who can give you a healthy and lasting happiness. You deserve it. Write to me soon. I look forward to hearing from you.]

In her advice Ita also discusses the nature of love itself:

Ho paura di fare il male L’amore è il sentimento più nobile. Mascherare col suo aspetto qualsiasi altro moto dell’animo è adoperare un vero manto ed un vero scettro per la parte, direi, da commedia. Umili origini e mediocre cultura non escludono dignità e orgoglio. Se l’uomo di cui parli possiede queste due virtù chiariscigli subito il tuo stato d’animo. Comprenderà e si farà forza. In caso contrario adotta il sistema della medicina, da somministrarsi a dosi crescenti. Cioè preparalo poco a poco.⁸⁹

[I am afraid to do evil Love is the noblest sentiment. To mask with its appearance any other motion of the soul is to employ a true mantle and sceptre for, I would say, comedy. Humble origins and mediocre culture do not exclude dignity and pride. If the man you speak of possesses these two virtues, make your state of mind clear to him at once. He will understand and gain strength. If not, adopt the system used in medicine, administer the remedy in increasing doses. That is, prepare him little by little.]

Once more, Ita’s answers provide insight into readers’ thoughts and lifestyles. ‘Trieste G.’ in particular offers an example of a modern attitude, in this case about a person’s love life. From a sentence in Ita’s answer – ‘della sua relazione con colei che tu chiami l’intrusa’ [his relationship with the one you call the intruder] – we gather that the reader has been dating a man who was also involved with another woman. Nowadays, this would sound like a familiar and somewhat common situation among young adults, but in Fascist Italy in 1941, where prolific mothers were praised and bachelors discriminated against, such relationships were not accepted and not something about which young women could easily and openly talk.⁹⁰

Another popular topic that emerges is readers’ perception of their bodies and worries about their appearance, as important as their request for guidance in their love life. Readers often ask for advice on their figure, sometimes even telling Grazia their weight and height:

Ninì Non prendere pillole dimagranti o ti rovinerai la salute. Sei fiorente e fa di rimanervi. Pare impossibile che le bambine della tua età siano affette da simile mania. Floridezza è bellezza, ma nessuna lo vuol capire. Il tuo peso è normale.⁹¹

[Ninì Don’t take diet pills or you will ruin your health. You are blooming and should keep doing so. It seems impossible that girls your age should be affected by such an obsession. Beauty is to be plump, but no one wants to understand this. Your weight is normal.]

Ita also provides advice on a healthy diet:

Conca di smeraldo Il tuo peso va d’accordo con la tua statura. Fa di non ingrassare evitando i farinacei, preferendo la verdura cruda, facendo del moto. Basterà. Auguri belli.⁹²

[Emerald Hollow Your weight goes along with your height. Avoid starches, prefer raw vegetables and exercise so as to make sure you don’t gain weight. This will be enough. Best wishes.]

Her advice often supports the Fascist ideal of a curvaceous female figure:

Vera, la noiosa La tua ossessione è priva di fondamento, e crollerà, spero, se la scalzo con queste parole: ‘pesi sei chili meno del giusto’. Goditi i tuoi spuntini ma non rinunciare alla ginnastica.⁹³

[Vera, the Boring Your obsession is without foundation, and it will collapse, I hope, if I undermine it with these words: ‘You weigh six kilos less than you should’. Enjoy your snacks but don’t give up gymnastics.]

And again:

Licia Carla 1922 Sei piuttosto magra, ma poiché è tanto diffuso il terrore di essere grassi non credo che la mia sentenza ti tolga la gioia di vivere.⁹⁴

[Licia Carla 1922 You are rather thin, but because the terror of being fat is so widespread I don’t think that my judgement will take away your joy in living.]

Despite the Fascist model of feminine beauty promoting the idea of a full-bodied figure, the readers of Grazia worried about weighing too much. This can be seen as proof of the limited effects of Fascist propaganda on the concept of ideal models of feminine beauty, as the answer to ‘Licia Carla 1922’ demonstrates: ‘[È] tanto diffuso il terrore di essere grasse’ [[T]he terror of being fat is so widespread]. The image that emerges from these letters from the average Italian woman during the last years of the Fascist regime is that of a woman who worries about her figure and her weight and seeks advice on how to become trimmer.

This survey of ‘Grazia vi scrive’ illustrates the personal relationship Grazia carefully built up with its readers and the success of the formula adopted in 1938: ‘Voi non siete una nostra lettrice: siete una nostra amica. […] rivolgetevi a noi’ [You are not our reader: you are our friend […] and you can turn to us].⁹⁵ From 1941 onwards Ita’s friendly style and use of personal memories helped to create an even more intimate bond with readers, contributing significantly to the column’s popularity (and to the magazine’s success), to the point that a disclaimer had to be published asking readers to be patient in light of the overwhelming volume of correspondence.⁹⁶ The real importance of ‘Grazia vi scrive’, however, lies in the image of women which emerges from the letters. As can be surmised from the large array of answers published in the magazine, the women who wrote to Grazia expressed a wide range of modern attitudes and anxieties. At the same time, these answers reveal the conflict between the Fascist ideal and the tastes of a more cosmopolitan, modern womanhood: Ita proposed a model of beauty close to the Fascist ideal but at the same time encouraged women in the workforce, demonstrating once more the complex, evolving model of womanhood in Italy in the 1930s. The Italian women who emerge from the readers’ letters were looking for advice on how better to deal with the conflicting ideas of femininity disseminated by the Fascist apparatus and thereby to reconcile traditional values with modern expectations and desires.⁹⁷

***

After 1943, and in particular after the repercussions of the Armistice of Cassibile signed by Italy on 3 September, which affected the entire publishing sector, Mondadori was forced to discontinue the publication of its magazines. Grazia was reissued as soon as the war was over, with the aim of retaining the bond created over the years with its readers. These days, almost ninety years after the first issue, Grazia is still being published. It has become one of the most famous glossy weeklies worldwide. Although the main focus is now fashion, Grazia is still a point of reference for women who look for advice on their love life, fitness and beauty.

The examination of the first years of Grazia (1938–43) reveals several different aspects of Italian society and how it was experienced by women. Fascist rhetoric, which required them to be flawless mothers and wives, submissive and obedient but also strong and reliable, emerges throughout all issues of the magazine, confirming that Grazia was a product of its time and that it reflected the ideological constraints of the age. Nonetheless, alongside the presence of the dominant Fascist culture many elements of modern attitudes and habits surface and co-exist with traditional models, sometimes overcoming Fascist ideals. Grazia is thus full of references to women in the workforce, reflecting the reality of women’s real lives at the end of the Ventennio. Both ‘Essere donna’ and ‘Vivere in due’ demonstrate this as well, delivering traditional models and values to their readers, but at the same time acknowledging and supporting modern attitudes, echoed by readers’ letters.

The presence of practical advice, together with some guidance on love life and housekeeping, contributed to making Grazia appealing to a wide range of readers and reflected Mondadori’s aim of shaping a popular magazine accessible to any woman. By writing letters, sending pictures and participating in competitions, readers were not only at the centre of the publication but also contributed to making Grazia every woman’s friend. Reading Grazia was like being in a room with a friend, talking about everyday problems, sharing happiness and worries. Readers were encouraged to take part in the creation of the magazine and be active consumers rather than passive readers, a feature that marked a crucial change in women’s magazines. Grazia is a key example of how women’s periodicals in Italy evolved, following patterns created abroad, disseminating models of beauty proposed by Hollywood or by French magazines and, above all, echoing Italian values and traditions, adapting foreign models to the Italian readership. In other words, Grazia helped to shape a multicultural dialogue in the periodical press of the 1930s, while also responding to specific features of Italian culture and society, in particular the duality of women’s lives caught between Fascist ideals and the desire for modernity. Taken as a whole, the images of women that appear in the pages of Grazia shed light on the dichotomies and contradictions of the cultural models which characterised the development of the modern Italian woman.

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