HOLLYWOOD IN PERSON.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 145, 21 June 1934, Page 13

HOLLYWOOD IN PERSON.

BACK TO CHILDHOOD. (By MOLLIE MERRICK.) Hollywood has gone practical. Its ladies wear seersucker where once they wore silk. Their play hours are spent in garments which, once upon a time, were reserved for the utilitarian pre-, cincts of the nursery. "We© folks clothes" have come into their own. Frances Drake comes into her own in a striped sun suit, which could be one of the "kiddies" models of yesteryear, except that 110 little kiddie ever revealed a "figger" like this one. But since girdles don't go with the sun suit—and really don't go with any kind of suit in Hollywood—your stripes, cleverly patterned, will give you the sort of silhouette that is the envy of your friends.

When a lady, after sporting in the waves in one of those bathing suits which are almost nothing, feels the warm prickle of sunburn 011 lier welloiled shoulders and back, she gets herself into one of these suits for that cigarette on the sand, or for those long hours halfway under the umbrella, when a book or the backgammon board or just gossip will be her entertainment.

Frances Drake affects white poplin striped with emerald green. The shorts .and jumper are one piece, but should she care to go into the house or the club for luncheon, there is a straight skirt — mid-leg length—which fastens up the centre, with a row of green, pearl buttons, and gives that final touch to the correct beach costume for 1934. Home-knitted Shorts. If you sec a lady with her knitting needles these days, the chances are she's making white wool shorts —those slick ones which cost a fortune in the shops, but which are 110 end of fun to make on a long bowed needle, which is all in one piece, which bends about like a hoop, and which makes all the top portion of the shorts without seams. Joan Crawford's long, slim and beautifully manicured fingers, plying .a needle of this sort through fleecy white wool, arc really a sight to see. There is something intriguing about watching a pretty woman knitting, and I notice that Joan, 011 the .sets, is always surrounded by an admiring bevy of young men, who seem fascinated by her clever flying lingers. Ship ahoy, sailor boy. You should sec us at luncheon time. You'd think some super-yacht had emptied its personnel into our more favoured cafcs. Here is the yachting thing gone mad. Here are ladies in navy blue crepe de chine sailor dresses. And here are ladies in pale blue ones, with navy blue chevrons. Here is the ever smart all-white, and here the off-wliite with navy. Any old kind of sailor at all goes in Hollywood to-day. Mrs. Harold Lloyd is an all-white sailor some of the time. A white flannel suit for the blowy days—and we're having them this year—with a navy silk scarf knotted true isa'ilor fashion in front, and her real sailor collar, very narrow and carrying the three sharp ridges of your actual gob collar, flirting out smartly from her little gob cap of white felt.' Toby Wing is a porcelain sailor boy in powder blue, but the eaglet 011 the sleeve, the stripes on the collar and the scarf are all quite as they should be.

Hollywood is all at sea,