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Virtual design of contemporary and historical clothes is a very intensive and developing area of science that can be considered as a bridge between costume heritage and modern way of its presentation by means of CAD. The purpose of this paper is to apply 2D and 3D existing CAD for virtual reconstruction of the very specific kind of women’s clothes such as a side-saddle riding habit (RH) used in 1875–1915.

The construction of RH was adapted to the aesthetic rules of the mentioned time, ergonomic posture of a woman sitting on a horse, surface of the horse’s body which the woman is sitting on. For the new method, the huge databases were obtained after analyzing the historical pattern manuals and features of pattern blocks used, possible postures of riding, construction of RH and converting it into virtual system “avatar – RH.” To reconstruct the side-saddle RH in virtual reality, the images dated 1887 and authentic pattern blocks were used. Special attention has been given to the topology of contacting areas existing between the sitting woman and “shaped” riding skirt and to the method of presenting it by means of special points combination.

The authors have developed a new method of virtual reconstruction of an RH that is based on automatic consideration of all joining elements such as “shaped” riding skirt, avatar and its ergonomic posture. The new approach allows reconstruction of the clothes in virtual reality in three ways: by using the real skirts, the historical pattern blocks or pictures.

The results obtained allow increased possibilities of virtual reconstruction and include in the list new objects of engineering achievements of the nineteenth century such as the side-saddle RH. This study should help researchers and practical specialists to recreate and save the historical treasure in a digital way.

The purpose of this paper is to explore the clubs and club memberships of 491 elite women in three eastern Australian states in the 1930s. It is the second part of a descriptive analysis of these women's biographical sketches in Who's Who-type collections, now out of copyright, published in Australia in the 1930s: Victoria (1934), New South Wales (1936) and Queensland (1939).

Using mixed methods within a prosopographical approach, described fully in the first paper on these data, this is mainly a quantitative analysis. After the numbers of club memberships of the women are given and compared on a state-by-state basis, a taxonomy of five main types of clubs was created and the clubs and club memberships listed for each of them. The five types are: (1) social and cultural clubs; (2) sporting clubs; (3) imperial, national and patriotic clubs; (4) professional clubs; and (5) service and educational clubs. The paper then explores the similarities and variations at the state level in the women's club memberships across the five types. It should be noted that the article does not include charities to which the women contributed because they required a separate typology and analysis to be taken up elsewhere.

The paper frames women's clubs as informal educative networks where women were able to acquire the knowledge and skills in modernity for effective participation in the public sphere. The analysis shows that three-quarters of the 491 women were members of one club or more. Overall, the women listed 340 separate clubs with 1,029 memberships across the five types. The state-by-state analysis giving lists of clubs, and numbers of memberships per club in each type, enumerated variations of women's clubs at the state level. Overall, the analysis suggests that the “club habit” for such women was a substantial historical phenomenon at this time.

This is the first study to encompass women's club memberships across three Australian states. Quantification of women's involvement in clubs has proved difficult, however, by using a prosopographical approach, this study creates a unique quantitative picture of the club data contained in 491 elite women's biographical sketches from the 1930s.

The management of children′s literature is a search for value and suitability. Effective policies in library and educational work are based firmly on knowledge of materials, and on the bibliographical and critical frame within which the materials appear and might best be selected. Boundaries, like those between quality and popular books, and between children′s and adult materials, present important challenges for selection, and implicit in this process are professional acumen and judgement. Yet also there are attitudes and systems of values, which can powerfully influence selection on grounds of morality and good taste. To guard against undue subjectivity, the knowledge frame should acknowledge the relevance of social and experiential context for all reading materials, how readers think as well as how they read, and what explicit and implicit agendas the authors have. The good professional takes all these factors on board.

According to our favourite but unreliable history book, James I slobbered at the mouth and was “a bad king”, but it is somewhat doubtful whether this is a fair summing up of this frequently foolish monarch. He had his points, and he certainly had opinions he did not hesitate to voice. On the smoking of tobacco he wrote: “It is a custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs …” and much more besides, to the same effect, but he was quite unsuccessful in checking the growth of a habit (pleasant or pernicious, as you prefer) that during the last half‐century has reached dimensions far exceeding anything dreamed of by the wisest fool in Christendom. Right up to the present time, however, there has persisted in various places and among various classes of people, the feeling that there was something inherently near‐evil in tobacco smoking and there have long been organized movements to discourage the habit, although the grounds for these activities have often been rather vague. Smoking was said to stunt a boy's growth, it was a waste of money, and anyway it was something done purely for pleasure and must therefore by Victorian standards be “wrong”, or at least not quite proper.

THE greatly increased interest in historical studies since the second world war has been, I hope, a welcome challenge to librarians, but it has been very difficult to meet it. That the librarians of our new universities should have had little research material to offer was only to be expected. Unfortunately, research scholars have discovered that our older libraries were also deficient, that source materials had either not been purchased, in the years when they were readily available, or had been acquired only to be discarded at a later date. Recently, therefore, both old libraries and new have found themselves in competition for a small and dwindling supply of out‐of‐print publications.

IN an article in The Economist for February 17th, entitled “Facts about Fiction,” the writer refers to “this useful but unobtrusive social service” (the public libraries) and the unaccustomed limelight in which they were bathed by the Centenary. The adjectives, congenial as they are and, indeed, as is the tone of the whole article, merit further examination; but the main subject discussed is the library which lends books for money profit. It may be that there will never be a condition of affairs in which the supply of fiction—however it is given—will not be called into question. It is, we are convinced, desirable that it should be reviewed from time to time by the public librarian. It is hoped that this number may be a useful instance. The writer, we notice, has memories of libraries which were “jolted” out of the cast‐iron system of the indicator method of issue by the increase of reading between the two wars. We know that this freedom was won before the first world war. The other point that concerns us is the assertion that a general opinion of light reading in public libraries is based on a wrong view. “In even the biggest and most liberally provided public libraries the addict of one class of novel—be it ‘typist‐marries‐boss’ or ‘riding the range’—can only find enough of them to whet his appetite”; he must soon turn to a circulating library. We think it is probable, on reflection, that most librarians would agree.

THE value of encouraging reading and a love of books at an early age is now receiving more recognition among librarians. At a meeting of Children's Librarians held at the Annual Conference of the Library Association this summer it was the general opinion that librarians should provide a section of picture and easy reading books for the under‐nines. Too many librarians still refuse to recognise the needs of children under nine, and even fewer provide for the under‐sevens, though books for small children are more plentiful than those for older ones, and many are most artistically produced. Librarians and teachers should stop and consider the lot of children who come from bookless homes. In many cases their bookishness developed from their early introduction to books at home, and some are inclined to overlook the fact that not all children are so fortunate as to possess a family library. Of those who do, some mothers look upon books as untidy objects to be pushed away in cupboards, and regard reading as a waste of time, thus only the older and more determined children will develop an interest in reading under such adverse circumstances. They are encouraged by their school and public libraries and, if they are catered for, younger brothers and sisters will also become keen readers and have the foundations laid for a love of the best books which will make them discriminating readers in the future.

Max Weber called the maxim “Time is Money” the surest, simplest expression of the spirit of capitalism. Coined in 1748 by Benjamin Franklin, this modern proverb now has a life of its own. In this paper, I examine the worldwide diffusion and sociocultural history of this paradigmatic expression. The intent is to explore the ways in which ideas of time and money appear in sedimented form in popular sayings.

My approach is sociological in orientation and multidisciplinary in method. Drawing upon the works of Max Weber, Antonio Gramsci, Wolfgang Mieder, and Dean Wolfe Manders, I explore the global spread of Ben Franklin’s famed adage in three ways: (1) via evidence from the field of “paremiology” – that is, the study of proverbs; (2) via online searches for the phrase “Time is Money” in 30-plus languages; and (3) via evidence from sociological and historical research.

The conviction that “Time is Money” has won global assent on an ever-expanding basis for more than 250 years now. In recent years, this phrase has reverberated to the far corners of the world in literally dozens of languages – above all, in the languages of Eastern Europe and East Asia.

Methodologically, this study unites several different ways of exploring the globalization of the capitalist spirit. The main substantive implication is that, as capitalism goes global, so too does the capitalist spirit. Evidence from popular sayings gives us a new foothold for insight into questions of this kind.

The purpose of this paper is to explore representations of Aboriginal people, in particular children, in the Victorian government’s school reader The School Paper, from the end of the Second World War until its publication ceased in 1968. The author interrogates these representations within the framework of pedagogies of citizenship training and the development of national identity, to reveal the role Aboriginal people and their culture were accorded within the “imagined community” of Australian nationhood and its heritage and history.

The paper draws on the rich material available in the Victorian Department of Education’s school reader, The School Paper, from 1946 to 1968 (when the publication ceased), and on the Department’s annual reports. These are read within the context of scholarship on race, education and citizenship formation in the post-war years.

State government policies of assimilation following the Second World War tied in with pedagogies and curricula regarding citizenship and belonging, which became a key focus of education departments following the Second World War. The informal pedagogies of The School Paper’s representations of Aboriginal children and their families, the author argues, excluded Aboriginal communities from understandings of Australian nationhood, and from conceptions of the ideal Australian citizen-in-formation. Instead, representations of Aboriginal people relegated them to the outdoors in ways that racialised Australian spaces: Aboriginal cultures are portrayed as historical yet timeless, linked with the natural/native rather than civic/political environment.

This paper builds on scholarship on the relationship between education, reading pedagogies and citizenship formation in Australia in the post-war years to develop our knowledge of how conceptions of the ideal Australian citizen of the future – that is, Australian students – were inherently racialised. It makes a new contribution to scholarship on the assimilation project in Australia, through revealing the relationship between government policies towards Aboriginal people and the racial and cultural qualities being taught in Australian schools.