collective thought
After an era of scones and tea, women’s clubs have a new purpose.
When I was in primary school, my parents couldn’t wait for term holidays to roll around. Not because it meant they got to spend two weeks with their precious daughters, but because they got to make a mad dash to the Greyhound bus station and ply us with red sugared Clouds until the doors closed on our double-decker coach. Our destination was Grandma’s house, in a tiny little town three hours from Adelaide called Mundulla. Two things were certain when we stayed at Grandma’s: endless slices of Heather Wiese’s honey sponge roll, and endless visits to and from Grandma’s girlfriends (Heather included). Whether they were sharing scones and tea, having weekly dinners at the bowls club or catching up on local gossip as part of the Bordertown Lutheran Ladies, they were never far away.
The story of my grandma and her gaggle of Mundulla gals is an Australian country classic. The earliest record of Australian women formally coming together was in 1894, when women from Perth’s St George Reading Circle established Karrakatta, the country’s first women’s club. Inspired by a visit from American female rights activist Dr Emily Ryder, they quickly mobilised social change of international proportions. In 1902, Australia became the first country in the world where women simultaneously won the right to vote in federal elections and to be elected to parliament. Twenty years later, the first chapters of the Country Women’s Association (CWA) were founded. Run as not-for-profit organisations, they were somewhere women could fundraise for various causes, support local communities and, let’s not forget, socialise. They were the kind of places my grandma (and yours) went with friends like Heather Wiese.
President of the South Australian CWA, Linda Bertram, says that these days the group isn’t just for grandmothers. “We’ve had a huge resurgence recently,” she says. “A lot of evening branches have opened – predominantly for younger members.” Take the Kyogle Evening branch in NSW, who decorated an old Commodore in doilies and crocheted flowers before entering it in the local demolition derby. Bertram notes that younger women are not only joining to keep the tradition alive, but also to address their own interests. Defying the conservative “scones and tea”
“Women’s clubs are defying the conservative ‘scones and tea’ stereotype”
stereotype, branches have voiced their support for both gay marriage and medical marijuana.
It’s clear that something about these established ways of coming together for common causes is resonating with young women – there’s been a recent surge in independently formed women’s clubs, like Sydney’s The Ladies Network. Run by a group of five young women, it initially began as an exhibition aimed at showcasing the work of up-and-coming female artists. “The Sydney arts scene seemed quite clique-y,” says 23-year-old founder Lara Vrkic. “Art shows would always feature the same group of people... and often they would be big groups of guys.” In May 2015, she organised her first exhibition. “Some 800 people came to the tiny gallery it was held in. After the event I received so many emails from girls hoping there’d be another.”
The Ladies Network has since expanded into a website with editorial content, an online store and, most recently, a creative agency. Of the agency’s motive, founding member Jess Mincher says, “We really want to create opportunities for women – creatives and otherwise – to collaborate with like-minded brands and help foster viable careers.” Adds her colleague Emmeline Peterson, “Sometimes occupying an online space can feel like an echo chamber – we want people to feel they can be a part of what we’re doing beyond liking a picture.” Aiming for their meet-ups to become more regular, they’ll soon head south with their first Melbourne exhibition.
But that’s not to say physical spaces trump online ones. In fact, the latter are valuable resources for those unable to attend meetings in capital cities. The Facebook group Like Minded Bitches Drinking Wine, launched by tech entrepreneurs Gen George and Jane Lu, is a 24,000-strong closed group for “like-minded entrepreneurial chicks to share experiences, offer support and seek help for their growing business empires”. Live since October 2015, the group has been so successful that members have moved overseas to head up international chapters. “No matter where you are in the world, you’ll have a friend who’s going to help you genuinely – not thinking, ‘Okay, what can I get out of this?’” says George of the expansion.
Be it an inner-city gallery, a country town hall or a not-so-secret Facebook group, the realisation that making lifelong female friendships doesn’t come as easy as it once did seems to be a major driver in the resurgence of women’s clubs and networks. Because if you work in a male-dominated field, are a freelancer or find yourself in an office that doesn’t value out-of-hours socialising, forming bonds beyond the banter can be tough. It’s a point not lost on Ira Glass, everybody’s favourite storyteller and host of podcast
This American Life. In “The Perils Of Intimacy”, an episode from last May, he opens with: “Okay, fellow adults... When did you last make a friend?... An actual friend who you see regularly, you talk about actual personal things? It’s hard, right – to make a new one?”
In my own experience, yes. Two years ago I packed up my comfortable life in Sydney to move to Amsterdam. I’m successfully self-employed, but despite my new countrymen (and women) speaking English better than some Aussies I know, the language is a barrier for friendships especially. For all the good things moving to a new city offers, the biggest downside has been struggling to make friends.
It seems like the answer to this collective problem lies in the notoriously clique-y city of New York, where a new women-only social club has been garnering serious attention. Founded by women for women, The Wing is an Acne-pink space that counts modern-day feminists Lena Dunham and Emily Weiss as starting members. Memberships cost $250 per month – or $2,600 annually – which not only grants you entry to the club’s plushly appointed interior (and bookcase lined with female-authored titles), but access to events including workshops and discussion panels. The equivalent to most high-end gym memberships, the initial expense quickly becomes an investment towards a healthy social life.
While travelling to Manhattan for monthly meet-ups isn’t feasible for most, you’ll be glad to hear that a local incarnation is in the works. The Ladies Network is in talks with local council to bring Sydney its first permanent physical outpost, and Mincher is quick to note that the focus is on inclusivity. “We don’t want to exclude anyone,” she says. “Our ultimate goal for The Ladies Network is to create a safe and inclusive space for female-identifying people to feel supported and encouraged.” As well as support and encouragement, today’s all-girl groups are continuing the tradition of those from yesteryear: enabling women to find solidarity and address social issues – or just let off steam and drink together. Tea’s good, but wine works, too.