International Women’s Day has
been an annual event for over a century in some countries and many decades in
Australia. The women of Brisbane—or at least some of them—were early supporters
of it when, on 8 March 1924, the Women Workers’ Organisation held a dance and
speech night. Details appeared in the popular ‘Tea-Time Talk’ column in
Brisbane’s Daily Standard but, judging
by Lores Bonney’s example, it seems as if media support for women’s endeavours did
not extend much beyond the women’s pages.
The Daily Mail’s article of 12 August 1932, for example, was
typical of the press treatment Lores received throughout her flying career.
Despite acknowledging that she had made ‘two very creditable’ flights, it
detracted from the accolade by attributing her ‘definite associations with
aviation’ to her husband who, ‘though he himself does not fly, is a cousin of
Hinkler’. The Mail continued to
denigrate Lores’ achievements by waxing
lyrical about her femininity: ‘Mrs Bonney
proves that flying does not diminish womanly charm. She combines love of the
air with a passion for her home, and is definitely a feminine type, dark [and]
petite’. Descriptions
of her non-flying wardrobe were intermingled with details of the prospective
flight. The ‘vivacious brunette’, gushed the Mail, favoured
‘picturesque styles’ and outfits ‘chosen with true chic’.
Proving that little had changed in her press
portrayal, the trend continued. In the lead-up to the Brisbane–Adelaide
Centenary Air Race in 1936, scattered among articles proclaiming her aerial
competency, were comments about her culinary prowess and instead of proudly
showing off her flying leathers, she was photographed wearing a neat apron and
reported as spending ‘some of her happiest hours in the kitchen’. The home-maker, not the record-maker,
was the prevailing image. Is it any wonder that Lores was largely unsuccessful
in her struggle to secure sponsorship for her transcontinental flights?
Lores Bonney’s femininity was as much a part of who she
was as her accomplishments. It didn’t have to be denied but Lores should not have
been defined by it, nor should her achievements be undermined because of it. Her
femininity just needed to be placed in a proper context.
Certainly, I did not want to hide Lores the woman—nor
did NLA Publishing. We wanted to reveal all aspects of a well-rounded
personality, character and career. Stylish, house-proud Lores who deferred to
her husband, was just as valid historically as Lores the record-breaking pilot.
It says much about Lores and her success as an aviator that, despite the
media’s dual depiction of her as a
pretty little fashionista and competent
pilot,
the prevailing images now in the public domain—and Taking Flight, for that matter—are those of Lores the pilot, garbed
in either suede flying kit or white overalls. Barely a pinny or picturesque
frock in sight.
It was not easy to gain
acceptance in the male-dominated aviation world of the 1930s. On the morning
Lores embarked on her Australia–England flight, The
Brisbane Courier’s
journalist ‘wondered at and admired the courage of the frail little woman in
what, to the lay mind, was a frail little machine’—and the next day shared
those musings with the Courier’s
readers. Happily, others recognised Lores the pilot rather than the fragile
little petal. When she stopped off at Charleville, the proprietor of the hotel
presented her with a bottle of whisky, the traditional gift to all pilots about
to depart Australia. At Darwin’s Victoria Hotel, she was put up in the
Aviator’s Room where all pilots were
accommodated before hopping off from Darwin or arriving from foreign climes.
She was accorded the same privilege as her male peers including Bert Hinkler
and Charles Kingsford Smith.
Lores wanted to fly above all
else, and she did indeed make it happen, using every means at her disposal. She
relied on her husband’s good nature and finances, she drew on the experiences
of other pilots, and she built on her own. She continually improved her flying
skill and planned diligently. Things did go wrong—they always do—and you will
read some horrifying accounts in Taking
Flight—but even though Lores
came close to death many times,
she never gave up. Lores well
proved that she was far from frail. Indeed, she had as much gumption as any
man. Or any woman. As any pilot.
In 1990, aged 92, Lores
recognised just how far women had come. Not just in aviation, but in all fields.
‘Isn’t it wonderful what women are doing these days?, she remarked. International
Women’s Day lauds—and highlights—the achievements of all women, everywhere. I’m
delighted that Taking Flight: Lores Bonney’s Extraordinary Flying Career,
will be launched on this significant day.
No comments:
Post a Comment