With subtle irony (but without sarcasm or mockery), the writer talks about the excessive pampering and preferences of “niños ricos” [rich children] in a society “acostumbrada [a que] un chico duerma con veladora, tapadas las rendijas; que se lave con agua tibia y colonia, se desayune en el lecho; no le dé el aire hasta que no caliente el día” [that gets a child used to sleeping with a bedside lamp, wrapped snugly in his bed, being washed with warm water and cologne, having breakfast in bed, and staying indoors until it is warm outside]. And it recites certain popular phrases: “Yo soy como la golondrina... / que se remonta veloz hasta los mares”. [I am like the swallow…/climbing in speedy flight toward the seas.] If the treatment described above is not enough to take care of him, it must be arranged for him to “duerma en el mismo cuarto que su nana hasta que haya evolucionado segunda dentición y evitadle las emociones fuertes; hacedle caso siempre que llore, y procurad que lea cosas dulces... y crea en el Coco y la Llorona” [to sleep in the same room with his nanny until his adult teeth come in, keep him from having strong emotions, give him attention whenever he cries, and make sure he reads enjoyable books... and for him to believe in the bogeyman]. In addition, “que no ande sólo en la calle; que no juegue al toro pero sí a las escondidillas y haga de Leonor (la que padecía éxtasis) en las comedias caseras. Ponedlo en colegios de gente escogida, pero anémica; y embutidle ––si tenéis medios de fortuna–– que todo oficio manual es degradante; que un niño bien educado debe tener un perrito chato y bordarle sus camisas; educar canarios y aprender a echarlos; preparar dulces de leche y formarles rótulo con anisitos” [not to let him walk down the street alone, or play the part of a bull, but instead, to play hide-and-seek and take the part of Leonor (who suffered from ecstasy) in plays performed at home. To be enrolled in a high school with select, but anemic people, and to have it impressed on him—if he has the means—that all manual work is degrading, that a well-mannered child must have a little dog and embroidered shirts, and must train canaries and learn to breed them, and make dulce de leche and decorate it with anise candy].

El Imparcial included in its roster of editors Micrós (Ángel de Campo, 1868-1908) the notable chronicler of the administration of Porfirio Díaz (1876-1910). In this news-inspired column "Semana alegre" [Lively Week], Ángel de Campo writes one of the most ingenious ironic explanations of the origin of the Forty-One. He describes the excessive care given to rich children by their parents, who allow them to put on perfume, colored socks, put fringes on little tables, to get in the way and do embroidery. The result is that these "señoritos" [rich young men] became effeminate and end up in la calle de la Paz. That was the location of a scandalous raid on a clandestine dance where forty-two men were detained, many of them dressed as women, including members of the aristocracy of the Porfirio Díaz period. From that night on, in Mexican culture, to say "forty-one" was both a reference to homosexuality and [an indicator of] intolerance.Through portraits and caricatures, artists such as José Guadalupe Posada (1852-1913), Diego Rivera (1886-1957), José Clemente Orozco (1883-1949) and Antonio Ruiz (1897-1964) ridiculed and attacked the feminization of a certain sector of Mexican culture.