Now here’s an imperious minx – peacocking for the camera in her finery. She’s looking damn good in her Sunday finest and she knows it. 

This is a photo of my grandmother, Cecilia, probably taken in her late teens in the 1930s.

Cecilia didn’t slavishly follow fashion.  She did, however, believe very much in looking her best whenever she went out into the world. Even into her 80s, my grandmother wouldn’t leave the house without looking thoroughly put together.

One particular accessory she favoured was a brooch.  A brooch on a coat would dress up almost any outfit, Cecilia would advise. And for a very reasonable cost. To this day, my sister and I sport brooches on our winter coats as an homage to our stylish maternal grandmother.  

One of the things I’ve most despaired of in researching and writing Bridget’s story is the few personal things I know about her. 

I could give you excruciating detail of how her dead body was found but I cannot tell you what kind of woman she was.   How is that finding a lost girl?

Then I thought of “herstory”, and I wondered if I’ve been attacking this the wrong way.

Herstory is history reconsidered from the perspective of women.  It prioritises the female experience over the usual historical preoccupations of war, politics, business and trade (traditionally the province of men).

My personal version of herstory takes the form of contemplating what patterns and habit recur in our lives that come through the matrilineal line.

Just as our bones contain echoes of our ancestors, couldn’t our lives contain habits we can track back to our mothers?  And their mothers?  And their mothers’ mothers? 

When Bridget’s body was discovered by the police, her handbag was found next to her.  “The bag contained some ribbon, a handkerchief, two small brooches”[i] and a railway luggage ticket and her marriage license. [3]

“On the body were two rings, a brooch, and a pendant, the last two of which were also blood-stained.” [4]

It hurts me to include these quotes from a Brisbane newspaper on 27 January 1914. I can clearly picture the bag and the jewellery lying near, or on, the body of a lifeless, young woman. 

But this information also gives me a chance to squint into the past and catch a glimpse of Bridget when she was vital and alive.

I know every woman who was raised by Cecilia, or a daughter of Cecilia. I can promise you that these women (and a substantial number of Cecilia’s male descendants) only appear in public looking the best she (or he) can, within the constraints of budget, time and prevailing fashion trends.  

Bridget’s attachment to brooches, their proliferation in her personal effects, tells me that she might have felt the same. 

Maybe I can use the herstory I share with Bridget, and the other patterns I see in my mother’s family, to bring back more pieces of our lost girl.

#WildBridgie

End notes

[1]"Woman Basking in Sunlight." B Moulder, 2024. Personal photograph.

[2]"Oval Silver Brooch with Purple Flower Embroidery." Canva, created by B Moulder, 24 March 2024. Photograph.

[3]"MAYNE MURDER." Daily Standard (Brisbane, Qld. : 1912 - 1936) 27 January 1914: 5 (SECOND EDITION). Web. 23 Mar 2024, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article180935167.

[4]"MAYNE MURDER." Daily Standard (Brisbane, Qld. : 1912 - 1936) 27 January 1914: 5 (SECOND EDITION). Web. 23 Mar 2024 , http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article180935167.