Berlin in the 1920s

The hyperinflation that Germany experienced in the early 1920s was disastrous to the country as a whole, but provided a silver lining for women, especially women living in Berlin. Prior to the hyperinflation, societal standards pressured middle-class women to restrain their sexuality. Middle-class society strongly discouraged sexual activity before marriage, though enforced this standard far more frequently with women than men. Upper-class women were rich enough to use their money to circumvent these standards of sexuality and lower-class women had different standards entirely, as society was largely unconcerned with their actions. Middle-class women, however, did not have the money or distance from high-class society to escape these societal standards. As a result, most middle-class women repressed their sexuality until marriage (Friedrich 126). However, the inflation destroyed the hope of marriage for most middle-class women, as their families could no longer afford to pay their dowries. As marriage was no longer an option for these women, expectations for their restrained sexuality became redundant (Friedrich 127). No longer needing to remain virgins until marriage, these women broke away from previous societal expectations and became the “New Woman” of Berlin. This “New Woman” was independent, marked by increased sexual freedom and employment outside of the house. Even after the resolution of the hyperinflation, the “New Woman” remained practical, career-oriented, and entirely uninterested in the institution of marriage. According to Smith, she “bobbed her hair, smoked in public, shaved her legs, used makeup, indeed, presented herself in such a manner that it sometimes became difficult to distinguish the ‘honest women’ from the ‘whores’” (8). Unlike previous generations of German women, these new women ventured into the public sphere of Berlin life, exploring nightclubs and cabarets without shame.

Some men welcomed these women into Berlin nightlife and praised the increased equality, while other men saw these women as entering the realm of whores or prostitution. While these views were misogynist, Berlin women in the 1920s were indeed adopting habits only previously exhibited by prostitutes. Before World War I, only prostitutes wore makeup during the day. During the 1920s, however, Berlin women began to wear natural, professional makeup during the day and donned heavy “masklike” makeup when they ventured to bars and nightclubs at night. Furthermore, prior to the 1920s, the only women who attended Berlin nightclubs were prostitutes searching for clients (Smith 163). With the expansion of women into the nightlife of Berlin, the scandalized men began to react violently. Lustmord, or sexual murders, fascinated the Berlin population both in news reports and in films. Conservative society commonly viewed these murders as male revenge against sexually promiscuous women, especially prostitutes, and were not universally condemned (Smith 123). Anti-abortion legislation was also maintained in Berlin, forcing many women to resort to back-alley abortions that led to numerous fatalities. Despite the condemnation of sexually active women, men also found entertainment in their open sexuality, attending nude dance shows and hiring the services of the many prostitutes in Berlin (Smith 133).

The Berlin tourist industry frequently used prostitution as a symbol for the city as a whole, with scantily clad prostitutes appearing on postcards, posters, and onstage at kabaretts. During World War I and leading into the Weimar era, prostitutes were required to register with the government. In doing so, the government attempted to monitor their health and prevent the spread of STDs. Soldiers during the war were even granted access to government regulated brothels through prostitution coupons issued with their rations (Friedrich 127). However, Berlin was lax in enforcing these laws. Jill Suzanne Smith estimates that only 10% of Berlin prostitutes were actually registered with the government and the police in the early 1920s (119). This lax enforcement led to a large presence of prostitutes both on the streets and within nightclubs and kabaretts. However, these prostitutes were often difficult to distinguish from true customers, giving an extra thrill to men seeking their services. Some tourist guides to the “sexual thrills” of Berlin described how to distinguish prostitutes from other women enjoying Berlin nightlife (Smith 188). Many prostitutes wore particular clothing, such as short “mini-mini dresses” or youthful, schoolgirl pigtails (Friedrich 128). Prostitutes specializing in S&M aggressively propositioned men on the streets with high boots and whips, the colors of which communicated their preferred S&M roles (Smith 142). Prostitution was fully decriminalized in Germany under the Law to Combat Venereal Diseases of 1927, allowing prostitutes to be more open about their work. With this increased exposure, many prostitutes joined together to write their own newspapers and create political organizations to advocate for decreased competition, stabilization of prices, and protections against police harassment (Smith 189).

Berlin and its visitors were fascinated by prostitutes, so it was unsurprising that depictions of prostitution were popular on cabaret stages (Smith 133). “Sassy prostitute songs” with extremely lewd lyrics were performed across Berlin’s many nightclubs, though their singers were not necessarily prostitutes themselves. For example, Kurt Tucholsky’s “Das Tauentzienmade” described a fifteen-year-old girl who is performing at a cabaret while her parents assume she is taking French lessons. Similar to “Don’t Tell Mama” from Cabaret, the song is flirty with innuendos placed frequently throughout (Smith 134).

World War I was the impetus behind the rising visibility of homosexuality in Berlin. Many German men had their first homosexual experiences in the trenches of the war and returned home with new views on their sexualities (Friedrich 128). Some areas of Germany were still hostile to homosexuality, but Berlin was largely indifferent (Föllmer 203). Due to this indifference, a large homosexual community formed within the city and attracted many foreign LGBTQ+ tourists as a result. Many lesbian clubs would refuse to admit men, while many clubs for gay men would not allow women to enter either. This exclusivity allowed gay men and lesbian women to create private spaces to celebrate their respective sexualities. Other gay and lesbian clubs welcomed patrons of any gender (Whyte 538). Cross-dressers, who may have also been transgender individuals, were more than welcome in these same-sex establishments as well. Though cross-dressers and transgender people would experience hostility in mainstream German society, within Berlin nightlife “young ladies, who [were] not ladies at all, but who [moved] so naturally and gracefully in their long dresses, [danced] from time to time with each other or with other young men” (Whyte 539). Cross-dressing was a demonstrably normalized activity, especially within gay and lesbian nightclubs, representing the open nature of Berlin nightlife.

Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld was an especially relevant individual in the fight for homosexual and transgender rights in Berlin. As a Jewish gay man himself, he was often the target of criticism from right wing political parties. His open advocacy for gay and transgender rights did not help his popularity amongst right-wing groups either. Despite the constant criticism, Dr. Hirschfeld maintained his Institute for Sexology and Museum of Sex from 1919 to 1933. The institute and museum provided educational and medical services to assist homosexual and transgender individuals. Dr. Hirschfeld was one of the first doctors to offer sex-reassignment surgery, as well (Friedrich 233). As the Nazis gained power, Dr. Hirschfeld was forced to flee Germany into France on a “world tour,” masking his escape from the rising Nazi regime, and stayed there until his death in 1933. After his death, the Nazis raided and burned down his institute due to his well-kept records regarding his patients and visitors. After all, many Nazis visited Dr. Hirschfeld before the Third Reich rose to power. Due to the Reich’s horrific treatment of gay men, these former patients could not afford for the rest of the Nazi party to discover the incriminating records (Friedrich 234).

Tropical imagery, especially palm trees, was heavily utilized by bars and cafes in the culture of Berlin as a form of escapism. Palm trees and other tropical plants frequently appeared on the walls of cafes and bars, as “innumerable people burdened with a hard life [wanted], at the very least, to be able to relax under palm trees with impunity” (Whyte 534). Especially in times of economic distress, tropical imagery grew more and more popular. In essence, “The growth of the palm trees [was], as it were, in direct proportion to the growth of misery” (Whyte 534). The frequency of tropical imagery in Berlin specifically connects with the song “It Couldn’t Please Me More” from Cabaret, when Herr Schultz gifts a pineapple to Fraulein Schneider. Since tropical imagery, such as the pineapple, served as a form of escapism for Berliners, this gift may demonstrate Fraulein Schneider’s desire to escape from her financial issues and constant work.

Berlin is located in Northeastern Germany, in the country’s marshy wetland area. The Berlin we see today is most likely not at all what would have been seen in the 1920’s as the city was bombed during World War II. The bombings did not destroy the whole city, but destroyed much of the historical and governmental buildings. The Berlin depicted in Cabaret is much different than Berlin today. With the multiple regime changes and wars tearing through the city, the landscape and architecture have changed to reflect the era in which they were built.

Friedrich, Otto. Before the Deluge: A Portrait of Berlin in the 1920s. Harper Perennial, 1995.

Föllmer, Moritz. Individuality and Modernity In Berlin. Cambridge University Press, 2013, https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/bucknell/reader.action?docID=1099937.

Smith, Jill Suzanne. Berlin Coquette: Prostitution and the New German Woman, 1890–1933. Cornell University Press, 2013. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/10.7591/j.ctt32b611.

Whyte, Iain Boyd, and David Frisby, editors. Metropolis Berlin: 1880–1940. 1st ed., University of California Press, 2012. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt2855f7.

Goeschel, C. “The Criminal Underworld in Weimar and Nazi Berlin.” History Workshop Journal, vol. 75, no. 1, 2013, pp. 58–80., doi:10.1093/hwj/dbs034.