PARIS IN THE LOOKING GLASS

Evening Post, Volume CV, Issue 142, 16 June 1923, Page 18

PARIS IN THE LOOKING GLASS

FASHIONS AND FANCIES

(Written for "The Post" by Ge.rm.aine.)

PARIS, 18th April.

There has been much excitement' during the past few days in the feminine world of the rue de la Paix, and the opera quarter of Paris. There is discontent among the midinettes. They are discussing nothing less than a split in their trade union. Pretty Paris midinettes refuse to have anything to do with Communism and Moscow, and, unfortunately their trade union federation had just signified its adherence to the Red Group of Unions. And so. yesterday, it was announced that the workers in the Paris fashion industry had decided to form another union of their own on moderate, non-political lines, and had already received hundreds of adhesions.

Mimi Pinson is, it must be acknowledged in an altogether -discontented mood. She realises that the big maitres de la Houte Couture pay her too little for her services, in comparison with' the enormous sums they ask for their "creations." So, the other evening, she met in her hundreds in a Paris hall, and demanded a minimum wage of 150 francs a. week. Only Mimi herself knows what it has meant to keep her litle wardrobe so neat, her hair so fresh, her shoes and silk stockings so trim—for Mimi always insists upon wearing silk stockings, you know—and her smile so bright during the years that have past. These charming little workers, who legend has endowed with the capacity of living the carefree, happy, singing life of a, bird, on a- minimum wage, are a little tired of the bird existence. I am sure we all wish her luck, and trust that she will receive adequate payment for the lovely dresses, hats, fal-lals, and other, enchant' ing things which her nimble fingers put together.

GATHEES ARE AN EPIDEMIC.

"White muslin is the latest discovery of modiste and dressmaker, and is appearing in profusion on models for midsummer wear. Hats are made entirely of it, with no trimming but the rows of fine gathers, and on dresses it appears in narrow, drawn frills, crisply goffered by the laundresses' irons, and applied in bands of five or seven frills on skirts, sleeves, and corsages. Presently the muslin frill will give place to frills of ribbon, and serge dresses will be seen decorated with bands of frills, and straw hats will show a close ruche of ribbon frilling in contrasting colours. Gathers are an epidemic. In the workrooms, the "Mimi-Pinsons" sit -and gather from morning to night, on velvet, on satin, oh ribbon, and on net, and some excellent effects are obtained. Gathers have killed embroidery, which has had a long period of prosperity, and has been put to every conceivable use, not only by milliners and dressmakers, but also by tailors.

THE HANDKERCHIEF HAS NEVEE HAD A SETTLED HOME. Woman's handkerchief was ever a vagrant. It will stray on every conceivable opportunity, and the little truant in lace and cambric where women are wont to assemble may be counted by the dozen. Let it be said, however,

that the handkerchief is not wholly to blame. Circumstances over which it has had no control have contributed to its vagrant propensities. The handkerchief has never had a. settled home; it has never been given the opportunity to acquire homing habits and the respectability of ;t householder. In pre-lmtorie. days it inhabited a pocket; in latter i years it has been thrust into the handbag. Now it is to be found in a wrist hraeelel, in a sk'ev'e pocket, in a hippoeket, at the endi of a. sasli, or simply carried in the hand. Of the bamlke/'----ghiof'a vicissitudes, them is not space to write. Wlieru will bu its next resting place it is 1 impossiblu U> say. PARIS HAS I [AD HER WAY. SKIRTS ARE DOWN. There is only one place where fashions are made, and that is Paris. And Paris has had her way, as she always does— skirts are down. In fact, the long skirt has:, arrived with ;i. vengeance. "Many of tlie. newest models flirt" with Iho floor. I However, huiiu of us here ii> Paris haven't quite lost our sense of sanitary sanity. Though our afternoon frocks jarsss s>M. ankles^ und in mafix sm& [

evening gowns revert to trains, modish street attire still comfortably clears the ground. All the dressmakers insist that the fashion of long skirts will endure. "I make the fashions," said one of the great designers, "and women have to follow them. I never listen to anything in the nature of a suggestion or a complaint, because I am sure that I know better than the women what is good for them. My customers always like what I like. I like long skirts, and I am going to like them for a long time. The short skirts of two years ago were too short. When you get an excess of anything, then at once you put an end to it. At least, this is so in fashion." The long skirt mode should be a boon to women with large ankles. But you generally see women with large ankles clamering for short skirts.' FASHIONS ARE FOR THE GRANDE DAME.

The new fashions are not, taken as a. whole, dedicated to the flapper, but rather to the Grande Dame. Fashion, like life, follows the swing of the pendulum. From one extreme to the other. We can't flap or flop swathed in mysterious folds of intricate widths of elegant, soft material. So, with a sigh of regret for emancipated, free-footed, feminine days-, we determine to acquire as quickly as possible the dignity, grace, poise of carriage, and manner which prevents our appearing like a: circus clown suddenly dropped in the midst of a luxurious salon. Not only are skirts "down/ but drapery is the mode par excellence. There is no immediate danger, however, that the cult of slenderness will lose any of its adherents. Perfectly straight chemises effects, of course, have disappeared, but apparel follows the sensuous lines of the figure, whether the cut is straight, circular, or draped. Girdles do not appear so often. They have made way for fanciful belts. Ribbon belts trimmed with rosettes, or with a series of rosettes, clasps of metal or "jet, that hold the drapery at the long waistline, at the left hip, or in the centre-front or back are also favoured. Waists are long, contrary to hints of a Directoire line. r

RIBBON LACED THROUGH HAIR.

The little ringlets, curls, and twists which adorn the head of Mimi-Pinson and her sisters, and are seen in illustrations in Thackeray and other Early Victorian authors, are to be the mode of the future. Paris coiffeurs, who claims to dictate to the whole world the manner in which women shall wear their hair, announce to a return to the styles of 1830. Some pretty girls are wearing bands of brilliant waxed ribbon bound tightly around their heads. One girl I saw at the Theatre Francais the other evening had her long blonde braids twisted to make a_ disc of hair over the ribbon in four different spots. It gave the charming effect of a ribbon laced through tho hair. While this may not be practical for tout le monde, it is an indication of the general trend.