And yet, other days I admire Jones for her refusal to pander. And then I occasionally wonder if she herself has somehow pissed the writers off, and this is their punishment? That blonde bitch. That rotten cupcake. That bad mom. And then I felt … odd. Mad Men is gliding toward a particularly interesting period in history: post-youthquake, pre-feminism. Weiner clearly gets these crosscurrents. Joan favored her practiced Helen Gurley Brown ideology: seduce male power, work behind the scenes.
Peggy insisted on taking the problem on straightforwardly, asserting her own power without batting any eyelashes. It was impossible to imagine Betty in that elevator. Jones seems to cherish, and even sometimes milk, her lasting connection to Betty Draper in the cultural imagination.
She gains weight and sinks further into despondency; when she learns that she has advanced lung cancer, she forgoes treatment. The last time we see Betty in the series, she is chain-smoking in her kitchen, thumbing through a magazine.
Other women on the show have heroic arcs—Peggy Olson becomes a star copywriter, Joan Holloway starts her own film-production company—but not poor, stifled Betty. Jones with her starchy alter ego. She is not an inaccessible ice queen but a hammy, capricious goofball. She quickly followed up with a video of herself dancing around in a neon-red L. For Jones, the wackiness is a breaking out, a surprise reinvention.
Don Draper could never muster. View on Instagram. I love you. Betty Draper is a woman of untapped potential, because she was not allowed to be more than whom she was until too late in her life. At twenty-one, she was married, and by twenty-eight, she as the mother of two, with a man who had already fallen out of love with her.
We know how to feel sorry for Don, who struggled with poverty and sexual trauma at a young age, because of the clear terribleness of that backstory. However, they all suffer in different ways with the gender constraints of their time, and very often , they also confirm to them. They just do it in a way that is more palatable. Well Betty Draper, you beautiful mess of a human being, I loved you because not every mother is perfect, not every woman is on the right side of progress initially, and the things you felt were valid, even if your husband tried to convince you otherwise.
Want more stories like this? Become a subscriber and support the site! Have a tip we should know? Team Zutara forever. Well, to be fair, a washing machine is just as affectionate as Don. Follow The Mary Sue: Twitter.
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