The list was the work of an unholy pairing of poet and pimp: Jack Harris (aka John Harrison), the “Pimp General to the People of England”, and the impoverished poet Samuel Derrick.  Derrick had empty pockets and a stinging wit.  Harris had collected a prodigious list of London prostitutes and their services and he had a name he didn’t mind publicizing.  Together, their talents created a best-seller: Harris’s List was believed to have sold a quarter of a million copies during the course of its print run (1757 to 1795), an enormous number for the time.

Ur-LBBs like this continued throughout the centuries, from the Blue Books of New Orleans around the turn of the last century to contact magazines and ads of the present day.  But it would take a technological and sociological revolution to bring us the little black book we know and love today.

The use of the phrase “little black book” in its present meaning surfaced in the 1930’s. The telephone had been around long enough to become widespread and to allow pocket telephone/address books (proto-LBBs) to gain popularity. It’s also no coincidence that the Little Black Book came into popularity right after the Roaring 20s.  Changing attitudes toward sexuality and the role of women in society meant that it again became (somewhat) acceptable for non-working girls and boys to be known for their ability to have a good time.

Telephones, the Roaring 20s, liberated women, and the ever-present biological imperative -  the perfect ingredients for a lasting piece of pop culture.