Don't go and sing for extra money (Singapore)

The mainland Chinese series I've been watching (set 1979–92) has a scene with the daughter of a textile factory worker refusing to continue working at the factory like her mother has done all her life.

    The mother says it's an iron rice bowl job (i.e., guaranteed for life -- the rice bowl [source of sustenance] won't get smashed), with all the perks that come with it:  steady wages, housing, healthcare, childcare.

    The factory has just had to retrench a lot of workers [ha! poor quality iron...], so the daughter has taken this opportunity to get a job outside, as a hairdresser.

    The mother is appalled:  "Hairdressing shop!  Is that a place for decent girls?!?"

    This reminds me of what happened to me in 1975.

    I'd got a job in the Taipei office of American oil company Conoco, on a high salary, but of course some of it had to go towards rent (which I wouldn't have had to pay in Singapore, living at home).  (In those days, there was practically no such thing as living outside, renting, if your parents were still alive and you weren't married.)

    My mother was worried that I might end up with insufficient funds to live on, and asked my sister to tell me in a letter, "If your salary isn't enough to cover your living costs over there, write home for some financial help -- don't go and sing songs to earn extra money!"

    A bit of background here for those who don't understand the significance of being a 歌女 / gēnǚ / "song girl".

    The traditional Chinese social structure had very clearly defined rungs (in terms of status, respect due and all that).  Artistes like singers and actors were very low on that ladder.  Female (and male in some cases) artistes, especially young and good-looking ones, would usually end up as a kept woman, with a sugar daddy (who was almost always much older).  In the modern age, one can see quite a few of them being snapped up for marriage, disappearing from the stage, perhaps for good.

    I had performed at school concerts and been in the school choir, so my mother was worried that I'd use my voice to earn extra money if my salary wasn't quite enough to sustain me in Taipei.

(Singapore, 1975)