Here's a bit that just surfaced in some old household debris. It's a letter from my late Aunt Selma, sent to several of her nieces in 1952. She was a highly respected and respectable (if not entirely proper) manager of the office of a law firm. She liked to tell people that she was a virgin.
Afterthought: "If I live to be 40"--cute. As was no secret, in 1952 Selma was 48.
And an update: My sister Sally, one of the original recipients, adds--"Oh my, remember well the motorcycle letters ... They made us laugh then. Now I see them a little differently as sort of a longing for some excitement that never quite came her way and that seems sort of sad now don't you think?"