AN HOUR TO DRESS

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 80, 1 October 1938, Page 19

AN HOUR TO DRESS

LAST-MINUTE DATE

OBVIATING BUSTLE

Imagine. ... You've got a lastminute invitation to dance, to dine, to go to a first night at the theatre. It's an important invitation, too, good to pass over, but it's come on one of your "busiest days. You've work to do up till half-past six, the date is for' half-past seven. That leaves An Hour to Dress.

What's to do? Even assuming that your new organdie or printed net is freshly pressed and crisp in its cupboard, there's still your beauty to consider. And the unexpected sunshine has turned your skin to best willow calf; your hair needed setting yesterday, and there's no hairdresser in sight today; and your hands —well, we will draw a discreet veil over those.

Don't despair, advises Diana Wayne in the "Daily Mail." Modern beauty j culture is specially planned for people like you, who. want to become lovely J in an hour. With a warm bath and a reasonable supply on your dressingtable you can come at least within arms length of that siren you want to look. . . . FIRST YOUR HAIR. First thoughts must be for your hair. Spray it with setting lotion, or sprinkle a few drops of eau de Cologne on your scalp and run the comb through it until every hair is smooth and obedient. Then press in the waves, pin up errant ends into thrse tight pin-curls you've so often seen your hairdresser make (remember, if the curls are turned under you achieve the smart, sleek look). Then slip on your best fitting hair-net and off to the bathroom. i NEXT YOUR BATH. [ Luke-warm, please; hot water is J flustering when you are in a hurry. And scented—scented to the point cf i wickedness. With pine bath cubes if you need ya spicy tang; with lily of the valley if your role is sweet young thing; with rose, geranium, or mimosa, or what you will. Even if the bath salts are missing in this emergency, throw in a handful of ordinary starch and follow it with a spot or two of your perfume. Starch makes the water as soft as silk, and the perfume puts you in a dancing mood. While in the bath you can beautify face and hands. Use a bleaching pack if you have one; apply it thickly oh cheeks and forehead, wrists, and backs of hands. A larder substitute is a paste made with fine oatmeal and milk. DUST OF TALCUM. Use a rough towel, rub briskly, when you step out. And then flu if on clouds of talcum. It will keep yobu cool and fresh, make your skin satinsmooth to slip into your clothes. If the perfume matches your bath salts, so much the better; but don't neglect it if it doesn't Hair can come out of retirement now, be combed and patted and brilliantined. Make-up needs a special thought. You have to meet your escort in daylight, travel there in daylight, and then appear under the electric lights which blot out an ordinary amount of lipstick and rouge as if they were no make-up at all. NOW MAKE-UP. The best plan is this. Apply a daytime make-up—paste rouge, darkish, powder, your own favourite lipstick, for the journey, and take the rest with you. As a first step, use a fairly heavy foundation cream; this should survive both the journey and the electric lights. The new type of cream, faintly fleslvtirited, smoothes every line and shadow put of your face, makes your skin flawless as a film star's. And it will last untouched the whole evening through. Choose "peach bloom" for) medium colouring, the new "beach tan"4if you aspire to look honeyskinned in a white frock.