The Tradwife movement is one that has seemingly passed me by. I would occasionally see on my Instagram page pictures of old-fashioned cottages and gardens. Women standing over perfect dinner tables with loaves of homemade bread, but I didn’t become aware of the so-called ‘trad wife’ trend until I saw Stacey Dooley stay with a family who followed the lifestyle, as part of her documentary series Stacey Dooley Sleeps Over, and my interest was piqued.
What is a Tradwife? Popularised recently on Instagram and TikTok, Tradwives are women who prefer to be in a ‘traditional marriage’ i.e. being in the home, cooking and cleaning, and raising the children. They are adamant in the belief that a woman does not lose anything by 'choosing' to stay at home and, by doing so, can better support their family's needs.
Perhaps it is a matter of suitability and choice. Certainly, I would never tell anyone how to live, or make their marriage work, and of course, housewives do a lot of legitimate (and heavily under-valued) work. The US Bureau of Labor Statistics stated that to employ all the cooks, cleaners, chauffeurs and nannies needed to meet a housewife's annual contribution to the home, would cost $120,900 (£62,590).
But in researching the TradWife lifestyle, I cannot shake the feeling that this movement is merely repacking and romanticising 1950s sexism, promoting outdated and misogynistic values. To make a new generation of women believe they need to rely on men to lead their lives.
So, I decided to seek out a TradWife to better understand this movement. I found @MrsPocketwatch on TikTok, whose real name is Brontë, where she posts about her TradWife life to 313 followers, but has so far received over 60,000 views across her videos. 'Let the wife make the husband glad to come home,' her bio reads on the app.
‘When we first got married, [being a traditional wife] was not a part of my marriage,’ Brontë tells me. She is sitting in a beautiful living room, her children playing off camera. 'Neither of us were particularly aspiring to be a good wife or good husband without putting in actual work and I think that mentality nearly ended in divorce...I like to show my children the beauty of traditionalism.’
That comes with backlash though. ‘I feel like I’m treated like an idiot because I prefer this traditional lifestyle,’ Bronte says. ‘[But] I feel being financially reliant on him means I do not have the same burden my husband does, which allows me to set the tone for the rest of the household. We’re always happy and warm. I feel like I’m living my dream life. I get to focus on what I’m good at, and he gets to focus on what he is good at.'
Personally, when I think of the 1950s 'traditional' wife, I do not have the same images of perfect nuclear households. I think about how UK women couldn't get a bank account in their own name until 1975, and how the illegality of marital rape was only laid out explicitly under the Sexual Offences Act 2003. Moreover, as a Black woman, the dreamy aesthetic life TradWives promote would not be accessible to me. Between Powell’s River of Blood speech and segregation, I think I would be more preoccupied with staying alive than trimming roses.
When I ask her about this, she takes a moment to think before answering. She nods calmly in agreement as I express my concerns about returning to a 1950s mindset.
‘I can completely understand where you're coming from, and obviously all of that is true,' she says. 'But at the same time, I think that wasn't how it was for everyone. There were a lot of happy housewives, and I don't believe that anyone should be forced into doing anything. It should be that both choices are equal and respected.
‘We’ve come full circle,' Brontë continues. 'And rather than raise children, we’re expected to work like we’re not mothering and mother like we are not working. It’s very difficult.’
Listening to Brontë, it's clear that she truly believes society, at least for women, was better in the 1950s. Even when I raise the issue of racism, while she won't explicitly dismiss my concerns, it appears to me at least that because it would not have affected her, it doesn't particularly matter. I ask why she thinks the movement has taken in many young people - especially women.
It's about respecting male leadership, if that's right for you.
‘I think it’s easy to get swept up in the romanticism of it all and the aesthetics,' Brontë observes. 'It’s not about the red lipstick and perfect home and kitchen. It’s about respecting male leadership, if that is right for you. I have friends with very different marriages and it works for them. The aesthetic beauty that results from pouring your soul into your home, children and marriage - and the fact that it’s just so different from what we, as young women, have been told - it’s intriguing and romantic. And I believe it stirs the primal feminine in us all in some way or another, so once you step into the world of our ancient ancestors, you get hooked on that deep connection with human survival and even human existence.’
Brontë even offers an economic argument. ‘As more women in the 50s went into the workplace and that, of course, increases spending, especially outside of the home. It encouraged a lot of reliance and cracks in the family unit. When I was a working mother, it felt like a lot of competition. However, now that those clear roles exist, there is no competition. I enjoy being at home.
‘I don’t think there can ever be one rule for everyone,’ Bronte concludes when I ask if it would work for all households. ‘[But] some people should try it, even if just for a month. My husband blossomed as a person, and so did I.’
I will admit, the trad lifestyle will probably never be for me - submitting is just not in my nature. Perhaps it is truly about seeing what works for you and your relationship and household, but it's also impossible to ignore the prejudice that 1950s attitudes towards women perpetuated. Ultimately, we all need to acknowledge that before deciding if being a TradWife is really the romantic notion we think it is.