IN LONDON

Evening Star, Issue 20996, 9 January 1932, Page 21

IN LONDON

• ♦ BEAUTY PARLOUR DE LUXE [Written by Cynthia, for the ‘ Evening Star.’] BEAUTY PARLOUR DE LUXE. The poet wrote “ a thing of beauty is a joy for ever, its loveliness increases.” Women are talcing that advice to heart, for never was so much money spent on the cult of being beautiful. I must admit women are more attractive than ever, and the terrible contrast between those who do not care for their appearance and those who do —well, it’s a shock, to say the least of it. London is opening a really magnificent home of beauty, for a celebrated beauty specialist has acquired the princely home of the notorious Clarence Hatry (now doing fourteen years’ penal servitude for his appalling frauds), and is opening it as the most luxurious beauty parlour, as yet offered to the public. The interior of this man’s house in Stanhope street, Mayfair, is beautiful beyond any ordinary imagination. He spent thousands upon thousands of otner people’s money, upon luxuries, including a marvellous marble 'swimming pool, where he gave parties, a perfectly fitted gymnasium, where he studied everything which could conduce to health. Now half London will enjoy mud baths ico packs, face lifting, and every possible known treatment whereby the human form can be improved and beautified. EXTRAVAGANT WOMEN. Just now London, at any rate the feminine portion, are thoroughly excited over a law suit in which the husband refused to pay exorbitant dress bills for his wife. Tho judge (Mr Justice M‘Cardie), a bachelor, has caused a sensation hy his summing up and his opinions with regard to women’s dress. That he let himself into a hornet’s nest is very evident by the letters to the paper by eminent women. Personally, I nave every sympathy for tho poor husband, who is no other person than Gilbert Frankau. the well-known journalist, who I am sure you must all know is an exceedingly clever man and the son of a well-known novelist—“ Frank Danby ” was her nom de plume, and one of her cleverest books ‘ Pigs in Clover.’ Anyway, Gilbert Frankau inherited much of his mother’s genius, and I think gave his wife a very generous allowance of £6OO a year for dress out of an income which never soared much beyond £4,000 a year. He had to pay his first wife £I,OOO _ a year, and he had his daughters by his first marriage to think of; yet his present wife spent as much as £2,000 on dress! It was most amusing to hoar tho Court dressmakers declare her extravagances were only compatible with her husband’s position”! Mr Justice M‘Cardie has called down the scorn of tho extravagant wives on his head when he declared £2OO a year was ample for any ordinary woman to spend on dress. I must say I agree with him. People are so fond of talking about the “best dressed woman,” and that kind of claptrap, when it never occurs to them that it’s the individurJity of the person and not the cost of her clothes that makes her well dressed. _ It was a scream, when this bachelor judge announced what he thought adequate in the way of clothing for a woman, and spoke of “ warm flannel underwear,” a thing not known those days, as necessary to protect women from colds and chills! Some, great ladies of the land have given their opinions in letter form, and openly declare that it is a husband’s duty to pay well for everything his wife considers necessary, if over burdened husbands, harassed with extravagant wives’ debts, glance at these lines it may comfort them to know that Mr Justice M'Cardie “found” for the husband, to use a properly balanced legal expression. In other words, Mrs Frankau has to pay her own dress bills, and costs for tho action. Incidentally I may add, the lady in question is divorcing her husband, and ono hopes she may find another whose income is limitless. I assure you this case has been the burning topic of conversation wherever women have congregated. Some of the judge’s remarks were well worth remembering. One was: “Women are the slaves of dress, and men arc the slaves of women! ” Poor dears, when that’s the case, it’s a had business. A SPRING BRIDE. One of the most important brides of tho early spring (if the wedding does not take place even earlier) will be the Hon. Yoskyl Pearson, the eldest of the five daughters of Viscount and Viscountess Gowdray. Numbers of people wonder why she owns the very uncommon name of Yoskyl. I’ll tell you. She was Lore] and Lady Cowdray’s fii-t baby, and when Lord Cowdray saw his infant daughter he remarked very ungallantly: “What an ugly baby! Why, she’s like my pony, Yoskyl!” She was christened with all due ceremony Daisy Consuelo, but when she was quite grown up, although she was always called Yoskyl, she discovered she was never christened by that name, ai ' so much did she like it that she registered it to go with her other names. So now she can really claim it as her own. She will marry the Hon. Robert Brampton Gurdon. TOWN TOPICS. Always do the few weeks before Christmas in London produce all sorts and conditions of people, men and women you never see at other times. I know one or two oddities, I may call then, who belong to another generation, who habitually charter a landau and drive round the main thoroughfares on Christmas Eve to see what they terr. tho “Christmas show.” They have the landau open so as to get a better view, and, muffled up to their ears, they sit and thoroughly enjoy themselves by comparing notes as to the different way things were done when they were young. Some of the innovations they are delighted with, while others they treat with scorn. Those quaint old folk consist of a brother and sister and two cousins, and this drive to see tho shops has been a custom for years past. If it is wet, tho carriage is closed. Only horse-drawn vehicles arc tolerated. No motor cars or mechanical contrivances for them. The horse was good enough for their grandfathers and fathers, and what more do human beings want? they argue. I must admit I do admire their love of old traditions and their originality is quite refreshing these days when every-

one just does the same things and copies everyone else. QUAINT FUNCTIONS. I know you will get this after Christmas, but it may amuse you ail the same to read about the observance, when the festive season is with us, of a (plaint and very ancient custom. This is connected with the payment of rent. I was told by a member of one of the rich city companies that a very old ritual is still observed in London, and this is the payment of quit rent by the corporation of the city to the king. The rent is in respect of two pieces of land, and is made up of six horseshoes, sixty-one nails, a billhook, and a hatchet. Before this strange collection of oddments is paid over to the King’s Remembrancer, the City Solicitor always chops two bundles of faggots with the billhook and hatchet. The custom, of course, dates back to a very early age, when such things as strong nails, and horseshoes were more valuable than today. when the good old horse coaches made our roads at least picturesque, and not ruined with hooting and smelling motor cars. NEW STUNT FOR CHARITY. For years past beautiful society children have done a very great part in helping charity by their dancing and other performances in Loudon, but now a new stunt is being introduced. Organisers are not content to have the children doing their bit, but at a smart charity function shortly to take place the beautiful young mothers are to appear with their children in a series of tableaux representing everyday events in the modern child’s life. It is on behalf of the “ British Hospital for Mothers and Babies.” Celebrated young mothers will pose with their little people in such pictures as feeding the ducks in the park, a favourite pastime with London’s aristocratic children, or having their pony ride and setting out with mummie for the daily walk in the park or Kensington Gardens. There will also be a series of tableaux in which_ the children will appear alone and impersonate famous pictures of children by celebrated artists. It should prove a novel venture. FORTUNES MADE AT BRIDGE. The society gambler to-day in Loudon is the contract bridge maniac. With us just now are a couple of American contract bridge experts, a Mr and Mrs Ely Culbertson, who, it is said, earn £50,000 a year by it! Experts in London view that as ridiculous, but they admit some expert players make £3,000 to £4,000 a year, a statement, I am given to think, most people would query; but there are two sides to this craze, as there is a great deal of money made by teaching as well as playing the game, and these American visitors, especially the lady, it is said, charge as much as £7 7s a lesson. This has been freely stated everywhere and in the Press, too, without contradiction, so I gather there must be truth in it. The average charge, I am told, is £1 Is a lesson; but as well as this there arc first-class bridge schools where for a fee of about £ls 15s a man or woman is taught contract, and at the end of the course, if satisfying all requirements, is given a certificate to the effect that he or she is competent to instruct other persons. Women are greater adepts at it than men, I am told, and it is carrying all before it in America. Now it is sweeping through England like a “raging furnace,” a man told me. I understand it makes the game of bridge a most scientific one.