In Search of the Womanicule


Atlas Obscura has a fun post on the manicule
, that pointing hand that has been showing up in infinite variety in manuscripts for centuries.   And of course I want a stamp of  that because I can put it on manuscripts that I’m editing and . . .
Okay, I just want a stamp of a woman’s finger pointing.  Which is when I made an annoying discovery:

There’s a reason they call them MANicules.  

I know history tends to be phallocentric, but still you’d think at some point somebody would have said, “You know what would be good?  A womanicule.”  So I searched.   I found one medieval womanicule:

And really, given how people dressed, I’m not even sure that’s a woman’s hand.

I found some androgynous-icules that were fun.

 

I tried altering vintage clip art.  Not so good.

And then I found some moderns:  Jen Montgomery and Arno Kalling:

 

 

So maybe if I drop the background out of Arno’s, I’ll have what I want.  Although Jen’s is damn good, too. And I like the cloud-icule a lot.  And that medieval one is too fancy, but could be great symplified. Must cogiate.

No, no, must go  back to Act Two of Nita.  It’s too long.  What a surprise.  But still, womanticules, a necessary typographical distraction addition.

 

 

Added for Quimi:

 

14 thoughts on “In Search of the Womanicule

  1. This is so effective. I’m going back to work as soon as I sleep and wake up – it’s after ten on here y’all.

    Also, Blessed Ganesh Chathurthi.

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  2. Have you seen the TNT show Claws with the most awesome (wo)manicures? I’d probably take an eye out or give myself a totally unnecessary episiotomy. Ouch

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  3. I love manicules! I’m pretty sure I saw one with a lace sleeve, but yeah. I might be seeing a male one that happens to be a little fancy. Of course, I can’t find it now — not on my computer and not in my usual haunts. Sigh.

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  4. Yesterday while walking in a very old part of Providence, I noticed one of those brass door knockers that’s a hand, and realized annoyedly that it’s always a woman’s hand and I was sure it was sexism. So I’m grumping to myself in the exact opposite vein that you were because honestly, men can be servants to knock on doors too.

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