Katharine Nash was born in 1907. The younger of two daughters born to a New York City international lawyer and his wife, she wanted “to do something” at a time when respectable and socially well-connected women did not go to business. Kay determined to pursue one of the very few professions acceptable for well-to-do young women—hand-bookbinding. In a career that spanned forty years, she practiced her craft both in this country and in Europe. Her books were exhibited at Dutton Book Store in Manhattan, the famous George Jensen’s store on Fifth Avenue, and the Horticultural Society of New York. She also lectured on her craft at Connecticut College for Women and the Barrington School.
     Her father seems to have been a man interested in progressive ideas; her mother was a suffragette, an active member of the first great feminist movement in the U.S. The following incident from Kay’s girlhood captures this woman’s spirit, and provides a glimpse of the desire growing among middle-class women for personal and professional accomplishment that flowered into the second feminist movement nearly half a century later.

KATHARINE NASH
Breaking the Rules

As a little girl I was supposed to stay indoors whenever my mother was away, but I remember one summer day that was so lovely I snuck out and went to play with Peggy Murray. Peggy was my friend who lived in the apartment building down the street. Mother, Father, Sister and I were living then in a brownstone on West Ninety-Third Street in Manhattan.
     That afternoon, Peggy and I went roller skating in the street. When Mother returned home, she couldn’t find me, and the woman who was supposed to be watching my sister and me didn’t know where I was. Alarmed, Mother started telephoning the neighbors. Finally she reached Mrs. Murray who told her where I was and what I was doing. Mother came out and called me indoors, and then she said, “Now you go upstairs to the bedroom on the third floor and close all the doors and stay there until I tell you to come out. Your father will punish you when he comes home.”
     Well, I went upstairs to the bedroom. I didn’t close all the doors like she told me, but Mother came up and closed them herself. I looked around for something to do. Mother kept her shoes in the closet. In our family we always had our shoes colored to match our dresses, and Mother had shoes in all colors. Those would be fun to play with. I took out all of Mother’s shoes and I spent some time walking around the room in the different heels.
     When I got tired of that I sat down and looked around for something else to do. On the mantle was a bouquet of pussy willows. I thought to myself, “Those are pretty.” I took one of the sprays out of the vase and I found some paper and a pencil and I started to draw the pussy willow. Eventually, Mother opened the door and said, “You can come out now.” I replied, “I’m not finished yet. I’ll come out when I’m through.” And I didn’t leave the room until I had finished my drawing.
     I took it to Mother and said, “See what I’ve been doing? Do you like it?” Later, Father came home and Mother told him I had been disobedient. He misunderstood and thought my older sister was the culprit, and he turned Sister over his knee and started to spank her. I shouted, “No. No. Stop! I’m the one who drew the pussy willow! Here! Look. Do you like it?”
     Father stopped hitting Sister and looked at my drawing. He said “It’s very pretty.” He looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, and then he went to talk to Mother. I overheard him say, “You know, you can’t punish Katharine. She always alters the situation in such a way so that you have to praise her instead.”
     Mother replied, “I know.”
     That happened when I was eight or nine years old but it’s always been true of me. When I came of age nice young ladies didn’t go into business, but I became a hand bookbinder and instead of causing scandal, I won awards, and I made beautiful leatherbound books that my clients and my family and I were proud of. I’ve always done things I wasn’t “supposed” to do, but more often than not the outcome was like the one that day when I snuck out to go roller skating with Peggy Murray and took the sting out of punishment by drawing the pussy willow.

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