PARIS IN THE LOOKING GLASS

Evening Post, Volume CVI, Issue 36, 11 August 1923, Page 18

PARIS IN THE LOOKING GLASS

FACTS AND FANCIES /

(Written for "The Post" by Gerjnaine.)

PARIS, Hth June.

In Paris, Fashion is hand-in-glove with sporfc in the most delightful manner, or perhaps ifc is that fashion, with an artist's eye for a good mise en scene, chaoses the notable events of the sporting world at which to display her prettiest and ' latest frocks. However it may be, it is certain that the grave occasions of serious sport, especially racing, are as much concerned with that most frivolous of subjects—women's dress. The "Pesages" of the various race tracks in and about Paris, St. Clound, Chantilly, Autsuil, are gay with the very newest frocks and hats, while the Grand- Prix, which has become a synonym for all that is smartest and most alluring in the world of fashion, is, perhaps, the most important sporting 1 event of the season. No season, indeed, would be complete without it, and long before Longchamps Week, the couturiercs have been busy creating their loveliest designs. It is a 'veritable pageantry of dress, set in the most' charming scene—trees painted against a blue sky form a background for the brilliant green course, by the side of which are drawn up the coaches, drags, and cars. Under . white tents there are gay luncheon parties, and over the smooth lawn that surrounds the stand and the Presidential box there is the never-ending 1 march past of fashion in her happiest mood. Loveliness walks with high head, proud of her pretty clothes, the sun aslant her gay parasol. Every nationality is there. The smart Parisienne, the picturesque Englishwoman, ultra-smart American from the "States," the tropical looking American from the Argentine, the Spaniard, languid/ dark-eyed, and graceful, the Italian with her warm, pale skin and beautiful clothes (Italian women can dress!). Every class, every age, every countiy is represented. The midinette is cleverly tricked out. to look like the mannequin, and the mannequin feels she is there to show the society woman how to wear her clothes. It is the wildest, maddest, most bewildering sight you can think of, and it is one to be seen once in a lifetime at least. THE MODE PLAINLY OUTLINES HER INTENTIONS. The slightly puzzled aii- that the mode has worn throughout the opening of the season now disappears. Confirmed in her new ideas, she plainly outlines her intentions for, the season, and the Grand Prix sees the very flowering of her newest materials, her favourite colours and her latest designs. She leaves a wide margin of choice, but is correspondingly intolerant of too great a deviation from her plans, and it is well to bo prepared beforehand. This year it is eaey to tell at a. glance tha silhouette of the new modes. In spite of concealing great width of material, under ingeniously devised pleats and panels, she still retains her sum, straight lines and graceful draping. Occasionally there is to be seen a full bouffant skirt, in response to a rumour from one or two of the Paris dressmakers that they are favouring the crinoline outline. When this is so, it is usually carried out in stiff white organdi, so delightful- for the debutante or in some of the cool muslins and lawns sometimes, even i n the- new unbleached Imen-lingrege, with very often the. demure Victorian daintiness emphasised by some. multicoloured posy Irs" I'^f rt Dg nan;°V ibbon 6tream" en. aufe the general effect is that of

soft draping, and, as if in conjunction with the graceful dignified line, lace is very much in evidence. BUSSET, BROWN, AND AMBER. Lace being the favourite fabric for summer dresses, some of the loveliest frocks are being made of it. A noted dressmaker favours copper,'and one of her most charming designs is in deep copper- lace over a slip of the same brilliant colour It is noticeable that all the smartest frocks have borrowed shamelessly from autumn, and the,russets and browns and ambers have almost superseded all other colours. The scale ranges from deepest copper and tete-de-negre, to the clear, yellow, and gold of fallen A aVe!juian<i Q e very nevvest colours are the "blonde'—the colour of light tortoishell, and "wheat." _ Tortoishell apears again and again, and in a very Parisian creation—a lovely frock for the Grand Prix—it is cleverly simulated, with brown Kolinsky fur bordering an exquiaita transparent brown lace cape. CAPE IS FIRST IN THE FIELD. Acoropes, capes, and cloaks have swayed into fashion again, and are flung ■wide to the world in a myriad different materials—ths lightest of georgette. > crepe, ma»«w», or filmy, lace on gqu.il

terms with broadcloth, or the heavy Rodier fabrics. Many of them are edged with fur, for despite the promised sun and warmth, fur has become more than winter's servant, and is a recognised form of decoration for the designer to introduce where he likes and in any season. SIGNIFICANCE OF METALS IN TISSUES. Metal threads have penetrated every possible phase of styles in fabrics, and one of the novelties of the season is metal alpaca. It appears in little tailormades and short jackets, and plain skirts. Also in one-piece frocks with short jackets. With regard to these metal materials, it seems they are Eoing very far this season. Some two or three years ago, it was said by the fashion critics that the vogue for 'ehiny metals could noj; endure much longer, but the fabric makers have gone on experimenting with them until there is scarcely a fabric to be named which has not its sister woven with metal threads. It has also become the fashion to embroider organdy and cottons in metal for summer wear, and last winter woollens -were elaborately embroidered in gold, siiver, steel, and copper, and metal beads had their vogue on both woollen and silk. In order to avoid monotony, the metal threads are woven into the light woollens this season, instead of being embroidered .upon them. COCARDES. The Paris couturer started something by launching a race of cocardes, so big, that they look almost like freaks, and bear the same relations to other cocardes, that the giant at the circus holds towards the rest of us. Cocardes, by all the laws, including the law of averages, should have died, but instead, they seem merely to have contracted a fatal malady traceable, I fancy, to the same germ that attacked sleeves a few seasons ago, and made them enlarge. Anyway, the facts —and the facts only—are what we aie concerned with, now and for ever.