David Warren knew some of them:
I wrote once an essay on “The Modern Spinster” — a class to which I added women who had (by war and accident) long outlived their husbands. Born, typically, before the turn of the last century; widowed perhaps in the Great War; some had survived into the 1980s. They were impressive figures of pedagogical authority. We had, even here in the once admirable Province of Ontario, women I would rank with empress-dowagers of China. They were irreplaceable pillars of a society that I have watched disintegrate, over the decades since. Not one of them was a feminist, or could be interpreted as one by any fanciful act of the imagination. Each was instead not an ism but fully a Woman, without mistake or compromise.
There are two converging strings, which I shall try to knot together here. First, that their power can be neither appreciated nor understood, in a society that has so far degenerated that sex (not imposed grammatical “gender”) is dissolved in an androgynous slurry. Second, that there can be no such thing as an independent woman, who exchanges her position for that of a little man. For it was the function of such women not to seek “equality” with these strangely unnatural, mole-like creatures we see today — whining, whimpering, whinging and wimping off to their “safe spaces” whenever reality approaches. Rather, from a station of absolute moral superiority, that Modern Spinster would corner and intimidate; leaving them a choice between personal resuscitation, and complete psychic annihilation.
“Be a man, or get away from my nostrils,” is what e.g. a certain Edith Carson, of blessed memory, could communicate by no more than a slight inflection of her sensitive nose. She and her like were, and with God’s grace will again be (after the collapse of progressive disorder), bestowers of the White Feather. They were guarantors, not only that women will be women, with their privileges defended and intact; but too, that men will not dare to let their women down.
“Equality,” while we weren’t looking, got redefined as “interchangeability” by individuals of the female persuasion who failed to grasp the concept, reinforced by several of those “strangely unnatural, mole-like creatures” who pass themselves off as feminist in the vain hope that it will win them an occasional ejaculation. This is something else in dire need of correction.