PEEPS AT PARIS

Dominion, Volume 23, Issue 5, 1 October 1929, Page 6

PEEPS AT PARIS

NOVELIST’S EXTRAORDINARY HOUSE -PYJAMA AND PARASOL PARADE Dominion Special Service.

(By

“Melanie.”)

Perhaps you du not know the name of Maurice Deklbra, novelist and worldwide traveller? His is a name to conjure with, and his parties are the talk of the town. But first let me tell you something of his extraordinary house in Paris. Of course, haying unlimited means, he has been able to indulge bis latest whim, which is to recall his wan derings in the domestic circle. His bedroom is an exact replica of a ship’s cabin, bunk and all, solidly fixed to the walls. Through the port-holes one catches delightful glimpses—not of tumbling waves, but of the peaceful Eiffel Tower. From this room we passed on to the smoking room of a train, not of the Pullman type, but the face-to-face arrangement we have 1 here. The open windows, letting in a nice breeze fostered the feel of motion, especially with tree tops waving at us. Next came a Hindu temple, very small, through which we passed through a metal door, that clanged behind us in a rather eerie fashion, and let us in to a perfect submarine, electric apparatus, periscope, etc. Through the “windows”: we saw sea monsters float round, fish peer at us, rocks and other nasty jags. JVell, it may all be very exciting, and romantic—but I am not a naturally good sailor. / Full of Good Stories.

This young man, of course, has a tremendous vogue among the fair sex, and an invitation is not lightly refused, especially as one never knows when he will be off again to Nepal or some such wild region. He is full of good stories, of which I might give one or two.

Once he was walking with a highly-educated Parsee woman, and they visited the melancholy Tower of Silence, where the dead are placed to be the food of vultures. “Curious you Christians bury your dead, and we place ours up here for the birds,” to which he replied, “Is there any advantages either side?” and like a shot came forth, “Well, we do at least finish nearer Heaven.” The wealth of certain maharajahs is incredible, as witness 72 motors, 160 racing dogs, 20 elephants, 6 tigers, 5 lions, 4 panthers, hundreds of thoroughbreds, and of course jewels without number. ■

Another small potentate, not to be behind, has made two roads in his kingdom, one from north to south 20 miles, and the other east to west 15 miles. His cars race one another up and down, being carried on coolies’ •backs to get from one to the other road. But never mind, he races, and has his daily drive just as well as auy monarch of a great empire!

Pyjamas and Parasols.

We are now in the midst of a charming pyjama. and parasol parade; rather a queer mixture, you may think, but not so when! tell you that the pyjamas are for sun-bathers to let the rays filter through dainty gauzes, while the parasols (whicluof ten match the other garment) are to keep any undue violence oft the neck. Surely we have reached the last stage of extravagance when we don for the beach, first, a very scanty, but none the less expensive, bathing dress, embroidered with birds and fishes, and then over that gorgeous cloaks of exotic colours, lined with the new silk or velvet water-proof material. Golds and Silvers glitter everywhere; even beach-hats must now tone in with all this display. The most elaborate parasol was entirely made of gold lace and black baby ribbon, circle after circle, the whole finished off with a tight-fitting beret of like colours. As for pyjamas, they have quite taken their place in a woman’s wardrobe. Poor Man, he will have to invent something else —woman is poking into everything! She is, however, keeping the distinctly feminine touch, such as soft green satin trousers, with a rose-coloured tunic, on top of which, if the evening be chilly, she throws an ostrich-feather wrap. Long gloves are back, in tones, too. to match your gown, so here is another added item to an elegant woman’s already long bill. Even if you wear the latest soft angel sleeve, trailing its clouds of glory, you must ensheathe your arm, and then adorn it with bracelets, chiefly of semi-precious stones, and cut in curious ways. Furs, too, are all the rage now, and if you trim your dresses, however flimsy they may be, with a yard or two of “bunny,” you will be able to hold your own with the best.

Fortunate France.

I am so often asked about work being obtainable over here, that perhaps I might as well give you all a word of warning. France seems to be in the happy position of having no unemployed, largely, I think, because she forbids foreigners to take salaried posts. The native.must have the first chance, and as a rule there isn’t a second left for anyone else! If in spite of this initial difficulty, you know of a persistent one, tell him to approach circumspectly the Head of Police, a most important personage in Paris life, and try to, wheedle a "permit.” In nine cases out of ten you will regret your decision, for payment, to women at any rate, is appallingly poor, the general idea being that they have some kind friend to help them in other ways.