femmes and felines are a match made in heaven

“I’ve always been a cat lady,” says Australian performer Anna Go-Go, whose new book, Cat Lady Manifesto, debunks the offensive stereotypes that have been imposed on cat-loving women – her included – for hundreds of years. “I started noticing, by the time I turned 40, that the stuff people were saying to my face was becoming a lot more hostile and judgmental. It was the stuff that I expose in the book, like, ‘You’ll die alone with cats eating your face,’ and, ‘I know you hate children, and cats aren’t the same,’ and, ‘You don’t want to be a crazy cat lady.’”

Anna brushed off these critiques until, a few years later, she contracted long COVID and realised that these perceptions could have dangerous implications for her health. “I realised that not only would doctors not believe that I was sick, they also wouldn’t believe that I needed help at all, because they thought I was making it up out of loneliness, because I don’t have children or a husband and I have cats. They basically diagnosed me with ‘Cat Lady Disease’ and I couldn’t get any medical treatment. It was my sheer shock, rage and disbelief at the cat lady misogyny I was experiencing from medical professionals – even though I was severely ill – that triggered me.”

Anna decided to turn her rage into something helpful – she made it her mission to celebrate an array of famous and forgotten cat ladies through a book.‘LITTLE EDIE’ BOUVIER BEALE (1917–2002) – OWNED UP TO 30 CATS AT ONE TIME Edith Bouvier Beale, known as ‘Little Edie’, was a socialite and the first cousin of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. She and her mother, ‘Big Edie’, were the subjects of the cult classic documentary Grey Gardens (1975), which is often credited as the first example of reality TV.

The Edies lived in squalor, in a decrepit mansion in the affluent suburb of East Hampton, New York. “If you think of the cat lady trope, Big and Little Edie from Grey Gardens are the most obvious real-life examples, because they do tick a lot of the criteria: they’re hoarders; they’re reclusive; they are isolated; they lived alone for 25 years; they have no support,” Anna says. “But the reason I love them is their fierce individualism.”

Life wasn’t always like this for the mother-daughter duo – during Little Edie’s youth, the family (which included her father and brothers) lived a life of luxury, as members of the New York society elite. Little Edie, a debutante, eventually worked as a model, dancer and actress in Manhattan. But in 1952, in her mid-30s, Little Edie returned to Grey Gardens after Big Edie was abandoned by her husband. For the next two decades, the duo lived a reclusive lifestyle in that old mansion. They became surrounded by cats and raccoons, cooked food from their bedside table, and dressed in eccentric outfits (like cardigans as skirts) that hinted at their once-affluent lifestyle.

Then in 1972, after the duo was nearly evicted due to the poor living conditions of the property, Little Edie’s cousin Lee Radziwill (the younger sister of Jacquie Kennedy) hired filmmakers to make a documentary about the family. While the original film fell through, the filmmakers knew there was something special about the Edies and returned to Grey Gardens to create the titular 1975 doco.

Anna admires the Edies – particularly Little Edie – because they refused to give up their way of life even after being shunned by their wealthy family. “I think Big Edie says that when you live alone for a long time, you get to become a real individual. And Little Edie is so fabulous,” Anna says. “She follows the trajectory that a lot of women – especially women in middle age – come to, which is many disappointments. Being mistreated by men, being misunderstood, being dismissed, being stereotyped, being gaslit, having no support, being expected to be this society woman who would marry a rich guy and make a society life in the Hamptons with the other rich socialites. She had bigger dreams and those dreams were dashed. I think all women know that feeling of having big dreams and then having your hopes and dreams end in crushing disappointment.”

Little Edie had always wanted to be a star, but instead she remained fiercely loyal to her mother. “They lived as they pleased and did as they pleased, and didn’t let anybody threaten their independence and individuality,” Anna says. “They could have done with a lot more support, but they were committed to freedom at any cost. For them, the cost was pretty high because they wouldn’t conform, so they ended up in dire circumstances. But there’s a kind of a poignant beauty in that, because their freedom cost them a lot, but they still relished it. And as Little Edie said, ‘I only mark the hours that shine,’ which I think is so beautiful.”

Big Edie passed away in 1977. Left with the home, Little Edie sold it for far less than it was worth to a couple who promised to restore the estate, and moved to the city to pursue her dreams as a cabaret star.EARTHA KITT (1927–2008) – OWNED BLACK CAT, JINX We can’t run a story about cat ladies without mentioning American actor and singer Eartha Kitt, who was literally Catwoman. Eartha played Batman’s jewel-thieving love interest on TV in 1967 and, although her portrayal only lasted for a season, her impact on the industry and the culture at the time was paramount. “What was interesting about her is how incredible she was as Catwoman, even though there was terrible racism and her casting was considered quite risqué at the time, because black women never played the lead on TV,” Anna says. “There was sexy frisson between Catwoman and Batman on the show that absolutely scandalised people, because interracial couples were taboo.”

Despite the lack of diversity on screens during this era, the producers of Batman felt that casting Eartha was a no-brainer – she looked like a cat, moved like a cat, and could do a mean growl. She also brought a grittiness to the character that had never been seen before. “Really, she defines what Catwoman became because the way she played that role was so new and fresh – she wasn’t just a poor pretty kitten who needed Batman to take care of her. Julie Newmar’s version, which came before Eartha’s, was very much only doing crime because she didn’t have a man to take care of her,” Anna explains. “If you look at other TV shows around the time, like Bewitched or I Dream of Jeannie, these women have magical powers, but they’re not allowed to use them, as their husbands say ‘no’ because they have to conform and be like the other housewives … Whereas, if you contrast that with Eartha Kitt’s Catwoman, she was fully in her magic power – a villainy and criminal capering – as opposed to being at odds with a man trying to make her suppress it.”

Eartha’s cultural impact spans beyond the screen. The daughter of a white plantation owner’s son and a Cherokee-Black woman, Eartha grew up in poverty and was mistreated as a child. She firmly believed in using her platform to stand up for what she believed in – particularly when it came to issues that affect underprivileged youth. In Cat Lady Manifesto, Anna highlights one incident that demonstrated Eartha’s guts: in 1968 she was invited to attend the ‘Women Doers’ luncheon at the White House, hosted by the US President’s wife, Lady Bird Johnson. During the event, Eartha criticised the Vietnam War, stating: “You send the best of this country off to be shot and maimed. They rebel in the street. They will take pot and they will get high. They don’t want to go to school because they’re going to be snatched off from their mothers to be shot in Vietnam.” In response, the other ‘Women Doers’ rushed to defend the Johnsons and, as Anna puts it, “throw Eartha under the bus”. Out on the streets, though, fellow mothers protested and held signs proclaiming, “We stand with Eartha Kitt.”

Eartha was blacklisted over the criticism, and, unable to find work in America, was forced to move to Europe. “It was egg on their dumb faces, because she became incredibly successful in Europe and returned triumphant to the States 10 years later,” Anna says. “But the backlash against her was really interesting, because it was so brutal – the kind of backlash that men in the public eye fear these days but never actually get.”LEONOR FINI (1907–1996) – OWNED UP TO 23 CATS AT A TIME Leonor Fini was an openly bisexual Argentinian surrealist painter who rejected societal norms throughout her life. Anna was first introduced to Leonor when her friend gave her a book, The Lives of the Surrealists – one of the few sources Anna has been able to find about Leonor. “Nobody is familiar with Leonor Fini, and this is why she was my number one person to include in the book. She was one of the most astonishing women who’s ever lived, and the fact that nobody’s heard of her is absolutely some sort of sacrilege,” Anna says.

“She was fiercely independent, incredibly intelligent, super-tough. She didn’t take shit from anyone and was a completely revolutionary thinker and artist.”

Leonor’s ethereal paintings often depicted women as strong, sexual beings – which probably pissed off her male peers. Salvador Dali once said that Leonor was “better than most, perhaps. But talent is in the balls.” Leonor didn’t care, though. She openly rejected being a part of the Surrealist crew because she detested the misogynistic views that its members, like André Breton, held. “She questioned ideas of gender, of women’s roles. She always depicted women as really powerful Greek goddesses, or depicted cats as these huge, gigantic figures, because their figures were huge in her life,” Anna says.

Leonor’s art reflected her own views on life – she wasn’t interested in traditional relationships and was happy to live with her 23 Persian cats. “At the time, she was very outspoken about rejecting patriarchal expectations and she didn’t want to be married. She couldn’t think of anything more disgusting than having children. She wanted to be completely free,” Anna says.

Her approach to dating was also ahead of its time – even by today’s standards. She was polyamorous and happily called upon her roster of men who would each fulfil different needs. “Leonor had this collection of boyfriends who lived in her apartment building – one who took care of her and one who did all of her daily life stuff, and one who was a fancy count who would take her to all these galas,” Anna says. “She spent all of her time committed to her art and her ideas, and if anyone tried to mess with that or judge her, she was fierce. She was hot and glamorous but so outrageous. People loved her and they feared her, and they wanted to be with her and they wanted to be her, and they also didn’t understand her.”

It’s difficult to imagine how a woman could live like this during the ’30s, ’40s, ’50s, when most women had little freedom. “I think because she was so incredibly intelligent and charismatic and brilliant, she almost kind of existed above normal laws, so she wasn’t punished in the ways that women, even now, are punished for doing anything publicly at all,” Anna says. “I don’t know how she did it. I think Leonor should be all of our life goals. We should all have a picture of Leonor that we pray to every day.”

To read the rest of this story and learn more about cat ladies, nab a copy of frankie issue 125 at the frankie shop or visit one of our lovely stockists. For future issues, subscribe here.