Unearthing Untold Stories of Race and Gender Through Mid-Century Beauty Ephemera

When Paper Speaks: The Secret Life of Ephemera

Sometimes, while following the paper trail, a single scrap can stop you cold.

Not all history is bound between covers. Some of it slips loose.

Ephemera—those fugitive scraps of print meant to be discarded—carry the pulse of their moment more vividly than most official records. They were never meant to survive, which is precisely why they matter. A handbill promising a rally “rain or shine,” a dance card filled in pencil, a ration book stamped and spent—each tells us what it felt like to live through an ordinary day that turned, unexpectedly, into history.

Recently, I cataloged a flyer titled Beauty Is Power, printed in Wescoesville, Pennsylvania, sometime in the 1950s. At first glance, it appears to be a straightforward advertisement—an invitation for women to start home beauty businesses, offering “six big dollar-making opportunities.” But its subtext tells a far richer story. Printed at a time when racial segregation still shaped access to jobs, education, and credit, this flyer was part of a broader movement in African American communities to build self-sufficiency and pride through entrepreneurship.

“Beauty is power,” the flyer declared, and within that phrase was a quiet manifesto: the recognition that self-presentation could be a form of resistance, that dignity could be earned and expressed through enterprise.

For Black women in mid-century America, the beauty industry offered one of the few viable paths to economic independence. Each flyer, each recipe booklet or mail-order course, represented more than commerce—it was a promise of agency. What endures in this single sheet isn’t the product being sold but the spirit behind it: resilience printed in purple ink.

That’s the paradox of ephemera. It wasn’t designed to endure, yet it’s what endures most honestly. A broadside or handbill doesn’t tell us what someone thought of an era; it is the era, pressed into paper fibers and hurried language. When I handle these pieces, I’m struck by their immediacy—the faint ink smell, the uneven press of type, the urgency of someone with a message and a mimeograph.

Preserving these objects isn’t about nostalgia; it’s about rescuing the raw record of human expression before it’s lost. When we save a pamphlet or a postcard, we’re saving a voice—one that history, in its polished narratives, might otherwise forget.

So, the next time you find a scrap of paper tucked inside an old book, pause before tossing it. Ask what story it might be waiting to tell. Sometimes, paper speaks louder than stone.

Chapman’s Photo Service, Wescoesville, Pennsylvania, ca. 1950s.
“Beauty Is Power” flyer. From the holdings of Tomberg Rare Books.

Chapman’s Photo Service, Wescoesville, Pennsylvania, ca. 1950s.
“Beauty Is Power” flyer. From the holdings of Tomberg Rare Books.

No. 2 - October 15, 2025