Why Live Alone and Like It Still Feels Like a Radical Act Today

Why Live Alone and Like It Still Feels Like a Radical Act Today

Marjorie Hillis was tired of being pitied. It was 1936. The Great Depression was still squeezing the life out of New York City, and if you were a woman without a wedding ring, society basically viewed you as a tragic supporting character in someone else's story. Hillis, an editor at Vogue, wasn't having any of it. She sat down and wrote Live Alone and Like It, a slim, sharp-tongued manifesto that basically told the world to mind its own business while she poured herself a proper cocktail.

It’s a weirdly immortal book. You’d think a manual written nearly a century ago—back when "electric refrigerators" were a luxury and people wore hats to lunch—would be a dusty relic. It isn't. In fact, if you scan the shelves of any modern bookstore, you’ll see its DNA everywhere in the "solo living" movement. But the original hits different. It’s brusque. It’s glamorous. It’s slightly elitist in a way that feels refreshing compared to the soft-filtered "self-care" influencers of 2026.

The Marjorie Hillis Philosophy: More Than Just Four Walls

Living alone isn't just about the absence of a roommate. Hillis argues it’s a craft. She uses the term "Live-Aloner" like it’s a professional title, something you earn through discipline and style. She was writing for the "Extra Ladies"—the widows, the divorcees, and the career women who were suddenly finding themselves in studio apartments.

She wasn't selling a dream of finding a husband. That’s the most shocking part for a book from the 30s. She was selling the dream of a well-mixed drink, a high-quality bed jacket, and the absolute refusal to become a "dowdy" shut-in. Her tone is like that one aunt who has traveled everywhere, drinks gin at noon, and tells you your wallpaper is "tragic" but loves you anyway.

The core of Live Alone and Like It is the rejection of the "makeshift" life. You know the vibe. Eating cereal over the sink because nobody is watching. Using a cardboard box as a nightstand because you’re "just waiting" for your real life to start when you get married or move. Hillis calls BS on that. She insists that if you live alone, you should use your best china. Every day. Especially when you're alone.

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Why We Still Can't Stop Talking About This Book

People are lonelier than ever, yet more people are living solo by choice. Data from the U.S. Census Bureau shows a steady climb in single-person households over the last few decades. But there's a difference between "living solo" and "liking it."

Most modern advice is about "coping." It’s about how to not feel lonely on a Friday night. Hillis doesn't care about your feelings; she cares about your habits. She suggests that if you’re lonely, it’s probably because you’re being boring. It’s harsh. It’s also kinda true.

The Great Bed Jacket Debate

One of the most famous chapters involves the "Case for the Bed Jacket." To a modern reader, this sounds ridiculous. Who wears a silk jacket to sit in bed? But the psychological point is profound. Hillis is arguing for ritual. If you treat your evening routine with the same respect as a Broadway opening, you stop feeling like a castaway. You become the protagonist.

Finances and the "Lush" Life

She has a whole chapter on "Setting the Stage," which is basically a 1930s version of budgeting for aesthetics. She acknowledges that not everyone has a Vogue editor’s salary. But she insists that a "shabby" life is a choice of the spirit, not the bank account. If you can only afford one good rug, buy the one good rug and stop apologizing for the rest of the floor.

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The "Live Alone and Like It" Reality Check

We have to be honest: the book has blind spots. Hillis was writing from a position of relative privilege. She assumes you have a "girl" (a maid) who comes in to clean, or at least someone to help with the heavy lifting. In 2026, the "girl" is a Roomba and a DoorDash driver. The socio-economic reality of 1936 New York was vastly different from our gig economy, but the emotional math remains the same.

If you read it today, you have to translate the specifics.

  • 1936: Having a proper cocktail tray ready for unexpected guests.
  • 2026: Having a home office that doesn't make you want to scream during a Zoom call.
  • 1936: Wearing a smart hat to show you haven't "given up."
  • 2026: Putting on real pants even if you aren't leaving the house.

The book is a slap in the face to the idea that being alone is a waiting room. It’s a destination. Hillis was one of the first to point out that a woman with a checkbook and a key to her own front door is a person with power. That was a dangerous idea in 1936. It’s still a bit "spicy" today in a world that tries to sell us "connection" through every screen.

How to Actually Apply the Hillis Method Now

If you want to live out the Live Alone and Like It lifestyle without looking like you’re in a period piece, you have to look at your environment. Is your apartment a place where you live, or just a place where you store your stuff while you wait for something better to happen?

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  1. Stop the "Temporary" Mindset. If you’ve been using a folding chair for six months, buy a real chair. Hillis would say your spine and your soul deserve better.
  2. Invite People Over. This is her biggest rule. Living alone shouldn't mean being a hermit. It means being the master of your own salon. You control the guest list. You control the menu.
  3. The Solo Dinner. Stop eating out of the takeout container. Put the Thai food on a real plate. Light a candle. It feels silly for about thirty seconds, and then it feels like you're a person who respects themselves.
  4. Master Your Skills. Hillis was big on "competence." Know how to fix a fuse. Know how to mix a drink. Know how to carry a conversation.

The Modern Soloist's Toolkit

There are plenty of books that followed in her wake. Sex and the Single Girl by Helen Gurley Brown (1962) took the baton and added more... well, sex. Then came the Bridget Jones era, which turned the solo woman back into a tragic figure who counts calories and fears dying alone and being eaten by Alsatians.

We’ve moved past that. We’re in an era of "Solo Agnosticism." We don't necessarily hate marriage, but we aren't terrified of the alternative anymore. Live Alone and Like It stands as the foundational text of this confidence. It’s not a book about being "anti-man" or "anti-relationship." It’s about being "pro-you."

What Most People Get Wrong About Solo Living

The biggest misconception is that it’s easy. It’s actually much harder to live alone well than it is to live with someone else. When you live with others, they provide the friction that keeps you moving. They are the reason you wash the dishes or put on clothes. When you’re alone, you have to be your own gravity.

Hillis understood that without discipline, a solo life quickly turns into a "slump." And the slump is the enemy. Her book is essentially a training manual for building your own internal gravity. She reminds us that the way you treat yourself when no one is looking is the ultimate litmus test for your self-esteem.


Actionable Insights for the Modern Solo Dweller

If you're feeling the "solo slump," take these steps tonight. No excuses.

  • Audit your "makeshift" items. Identify three things in your home that you’ve kept because you’re "waiting for a permanent house/partner." Replace one of them this week with something you actually love.
  • Design a "Hillis Hour." Dedicate 60 minutes after work to a ritual that has nothing to do with a screen. A bath, a complicated recipe, reading a physical book in a dedicated "reading chair."
  • The Guest Test. If a guest walked into your home right now, would you be embarrassed? If yes, Hillis would tell you you're cheating yourself. Clean it for you, not for them.
  • Invest in "Solitary Pleasures." Buy the high-thread-count sheets. Buy the expensive coffee beans. The margin of joy in solo living is found in the quality of your daily tools.

Living alone isn't a sentence. It’s a luxury, provided you have the guts to treat it like one. Marjorie Hillis knew that in 1936, and honestly, the world is still trying to catch up to her.