FROM COURT TO DRESS SHOP.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 33, 8 February 1930, Page 15 (Supplement)

FROM COURT TO DRESS SHOP.

INTUITIONS OF A GRAND

duchess.

bussiak pbutoem TBI"

HER STORY.

»TVHY I MY PRESENT WORK."

(By GRAND DUCHESS MARIE PAVLOVNA.)

Grand TSc'ouX »' resident of New xorjc, father, the. the late Czar of Russia. uncle and Gronil». Vml. 111 the brother of Hmper of Her mother, ±*rinceh» of Q Ueen Greece, niece and £1 d died when Alexandra a E "f R „ ye ar and a half the Grand Duches _ . Paul employed old, and the Grand_ Duke, £aui duca . English «overnessea to super and the tion of his two children, the s ?&.«»'^\rs d o£ the marriage was annulled.

Sympathetic friends feel a little sorry ■•for me because it is to- bff Working a shop. They forget that t e P of my early years was except tmmKg |„r on. defined to turn court to Out..responsibly ft-™* • living and keeping w s»t tie leaving seen f good dea p i a y e d world ct"i »P len ? a tain' " its shall always be llte ; U . simple things, content content to enjoy t>i ? work and to concentrate w to take the ,good things ot i« day to day,: I m f a^ 6 different that workjng- gQme pr . ec i o us background; might spectacular «er§:y^8 w S..SI life, might positidn-in the jo with royalty, even aspire for a . Tba-t part of LJ " d fte C " tata

in the day. Tardiness was not tolerated, not from any one in our world; I re-, member being'punished for being a few minutes late for lunch. So ,it is "only natural that punctuality should have become a part of my existence.- Even now I should feel exceedingly guilty if I came late to an engagement. • It never has occurred to me to pity myself for having to get up in the morning and set out for a day's work. Ever since I can remember there always has been a definite day's work. So that going and arriving by the clock is much easier for me, I am sure, than for thousands of girls who have been more indulged .than I ever was—or any of the children of my acquaintance. More Democratic than America. Another early influence that unintentionally was preparing me for the rather charming task of doing business with strangers "tfas the friendliness that existed between the people near our home., In this connection I think that Russia under the regime of my cousin, the late Czar, wag more democratic than America is to-day. At our place near Moscow the life of the Afferent classes was much more mixed than I have found ■it in New York. There were no rules that prevented us from playing with the village children. It never entered our heads not to play with them. Certain happy hours remain silhouetted, in the, memory. I remember, watering the garden with the village girls, "every one barefoot and carrying pots of water. It r is a delightful memory. ' ' ■; ' '

We were taught to consider our studies the most important interest in life. No carelessness was tolerated, j. I remember how '■ difficult my Russian lessons were when I began them at five. English .was my first language, because m/first nurse and governess were English. Later we had French, Italian, German. During these years we had tennis, riding, all sorts of sports, in their proper place after work was done. So it is not a surprise to find myself in harmony with a world whioh demands that my best energies be put into my work. Extravagance or the indulgent gratification of childish wishes never entered my life. We lived very simply. If I asked for a bicycle or a new saddle, I expected to receive it some time. But never immediately. We might wait a lon or time, usually for some such occasion as a birthday or Christmas. We knew how to be grateful and how to appreciate things to a greater extent than many girl# could imagine. And now, after looking, about for a. good • Tui ruin's* :. - I find- thai .•! ' am

happy, to have secured a comfortable and well paid position in a dressmaking establishment. "And I am sure that no other workingwoman could be more eager to justify the confidence? that has been placed'in her. All my life 'I have assumed responsibilities that necessitated perseverance and punctuality. I liave always wanted to work. As a young girl I longed to do things that were not permitted. 1 must have had an intuition of what was coming into our lives in Russia. Always there was an undercurrent of feeling, a premonition that life could not go on as it was. ! A Change from Court Life. When I was fifteen I insisted upon being taught sewing and cooking. I was permitted to take lessons in dressmaking, but the cooking lessons were not allowed. Years afterwards, when. I left Russia and had very little money and did not know what I should do or what kind of business I could go into, I made my own dresses. One was an evening frock of black tulle, copied from a Callot model. I was then in England, where we spent-the first year after we left Russia. I was so proud of the tulle gown that I told evei'y one I had made ft myself, and they laughed at my enthusiasm. - : . f . When I was eighteen, and married into the Swedish xoval family, I felt that I simply must, have something to do as a change : from court life. I. had almost nothing to do. The court ' was very democratic and all, responsibility was assumed by older people. ,' So I took a course in commercial art. The technical knowledge of design acquired then is very useful to me now, although my youthful ambition was considered amusing. I seem always to have been preparing for a day when people would i not look oddly at Me in a executive job. | I did not then and I do not now aspire to become-a fossil. When I became a war nurse I was already quite- used to the sight of dressings and wounds and ill people. On stated days for years my aunt, the Grand Duchess Serge, or my governess, would take me to hospitals in Moscow. Aft a Grand Duchess I was being prepared for the usual career of charity and philanthropy. Visiting orphan asylum? was - always a treat, for while my aunt talked solemnly with the superintendents, I played with the children. During the Russian-Japanese war, when I was fourteen, we had a hospital on our estate near Moscow and my job was to teach reading and writing to illiterate men. Bui ,*hen th« jJjg cwne, there -wM not Bo~mucl^p*d : -iQ Jteach

reading and writing. The country had changed. Illiteracy had lessened. Like others, I went in for nursing. So it is clear that the education and activities of women of my cla.ss in sia were Tather good preparation for the business careers that so many of us are now carrying on in Paris and elsewhere. I don't mind things nemg difficult so long as they are interesting. I have always been like that. But when things become solemn and uninteresting, they° are not really worth while. It is ideal, in a way, to come into the business world without being disturbed by distracting ambitions. It leaves one free to pursue definite aims with complete concentration. Another thing my earlier life taught me is that women of leisure are no happier than working women. I think on the whole that i business women are the happiest of all. They seem to have attained a more complete balance in life. Those who do something are certainly more agreeable to be with. Sometimes I imagine that the best part of my life is still to come, that all the rest has been a mere preparation for it. There are a few things I should like very much to do.. I hope that some day I shall be writing—not merely recording my memories—but actually doing creative writing. That would interest me very much. Surely I have seen plently of human incidents that could be composed into fiction. To be successful, jib a creator on the artistic plane would" bring infinitely more satisr faction than the most brilliant social life could iieved do.