WOMAN’S WORLD

Evening Star, Issue 23861, 16 April 1941, Page 11

WOMAN’S WORLD

ON EDGE OF BOMB GRATER , FAQUIN'S LONDON HOUSE Madame Mosca —London directrice of Paquin—is a proud woman. She is proud to be able to say that Paquin did not close —even for live minutes—although half the house was removed by a .bomb (writes Betty Wilson in the ‘Sydney Morning Herald'). Jn fact, she is so enthusiastic about the way the staff carried on that she forgets to say that she herself designs the whole of the London collections, all the collections for South America, and that she is, at the moment, working on another group of dresses which will represent Paquin in the forthcoming South American fashion show. I did discover that this slim, elegant woman, who looks as if she divides her time between lunching at the lutz and dancing at the Dorchester, with a matinee or a liktlo bridge thrown in, seldom has time for lunch. Round about .i p.m.—jf she is not already fit a, conference with Loudon’s dress designers or at a British Colour Council meeting —her secretary comes in with a cup of hot milk. That is her luncheon. Maybe her dinner, too. During the daytime she works in a small, grey-painted, and panelled room, which has hocn shorofl up on *t>hc eclgo of the hivinh crater. She goes home just before blackout to a small basement flat she has taken in St. James’s street - her other Hat was bombed early m the bill/.—and goes on with her work. She designs four collections a year for the London house and four for the Paquin house in Buenos Aires. Each collection contains about 85 dresses, and none, Mine. Mosea points out, can compare in size with the Paquin in Paris, which used to include about 300 models. The London house, which was made up of two buildings—one facing on Berkeley street and the other on Dover street—was divided in two, when a

bomb fell, as neatly as if it. were part of some overnight demolition work.

Aline. Mosca, arrived one morning to find it had gone, and with it an entire collection, the vast bemirrored showroom, four workrooms, and the mannequins’ changing room, but I found sho regretted—not the collection—but the sewing machines and the pressing irons. “ You would not believe how difficult it was to replace them,” she said. ■ .

The current collection is shown in what used to he the entrance hall. Errand boys stop and peer through the double glass doors; the mannequins’ dramatic exits and entrances are met with “ Oobs!” and “ Ahs!” from Berkeley street. The courage and practical common Sense which have kept Paquin going under extremely difficult conditions are reflected in Mine. Mosca’s now collection. “ It is based on ‘ Dig for Victory, she told mo. “ Belts and accessories are being made with farmhouse motifs —wooden yokes, milk buckets, eggs, sheep, hay wains, shepherd’s crooks, and hens. lam using whole families of pigs—father, mother, and baby pigs—as buttons. No. • 1 have had absolutely no difficulty in getting my accessories made here. Before the war English workmen used to copy our Paris dp-

Now they make all our accessories. And they do them beautifully.’ The collection will, of course be made entirely from 'English fabrics. But there'is nothing new about that either. “I have always been frightfully fond of English fabrics,” Mme Mosca says. “'Of course, there is nothing to touch English tweeds. English, tie. silks are superb and always have been. Paquin has always used a great many Paisley tie silks.” _ She showed me a piece of light-weight wool material which looked like oldfashioned ehallis. It was printed with a crossbar in vivid turquoise, centred with vague little sprigs in clear, bright colours. “ I plan to use lots of clear colours. The collection will very light blouses to wear with classic tweeds—■ pale- blue, egg yellow, and bright pink. I think London wants practical but young-looking clothes—something that stands out as bright and distinctive among the debris. And there will be lots of navy blue. I adore navy blue,” she said. Mmo Mosca, who lias been London directrice of Paquin for two years, was with Schiaparelli in Paris for 12 years. She created the famous “ Schiap ” shop, where the scarves, the belts, buckles, bags, and buttons which Mme Mosca designed were the preliminary hors-d’oeuvres to Schiaparelli’s famous collections. WOMEN’S AUXILIARY AIR FORCE QUEEN'S PRAISE Bravery displayed by women and girls of the W.A.A.F., three of whom have received the first military medals to be awarded to women of the K.A.F., drew a tribute from the Queen when she visited a station of the 11.A.F. Fighter Command recently, states the London ‘ Daily Telegraph.’ “ I hear that your women are magnificent,” she said to the senior squadron officer of about 2,000 W.A.A.F.s attached to the fighter stations in Southeast England. “ Thank yon,” ’ was the reply. “ ‘Magnificent’ is the host word for them.” Heroism of the W.A.A.F.s during bombing raids forms an amazing record of courage and fortitude, states the Air Ministry News Service, which tells of some of these acts of bravery. COOLNESS IN DANGER. A squadron loader probably owes his life—certainly his legs—to a W.A.A.F. Wounded by a bomb, bis legs were badly injured, but a girl who was

formerly a nurse ran to him, improvised a tourniquet, and stopped the now of blood. Although bombs were still falling near them she helped a doctor to take the officer to sidk quarters. Her prompt action, -declared the doctors later, saved his legs from amputation. Another W.A.A.F., who was injured when a bomb exploded near the entrance to a shelter, declined attention while others were needing it, but half an hour later she was found to have a broken back. Alter weeks in hospital

she is now able to walk —and wants to return to work, A transport driver who was driving a squadron commander, and saw a bomb coming directly for them, swerved violently to the loft and the bomb fell exactly where the car would otherwise have been. A girl who was telephoning when the building was hit and plaster fell all round her took the telephone under the table and carried on there until another bomb cut the line.