THE FLAPPER.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXXVI, Issue 3994, 26 July 1913, Page 7

THE FLAPPER.

It has been cynically said tliat the ’Flapper, with “appendicitis and nerves and other disorders, is one of the unpleasant products of modernism.” That is rather sweeping, but she is essentially a recent development, and she gives those lovers of convention who cling to the memories of a past generation considerable scope for comment. Also, she Iras provided food for argument and discussion, and she has added not a little to the gaiety of nations. She has her uses, and occasionally she is visited with more than her fair share oi abuse. Really, she is rather a humorous figure, whose faults are carefully cultivated, and in the main superficial; whose opinion of her own importance is as exaggerated as the height of her heels and the skimpiness of her skirt. Her greatest ambition is to be thought older than she is; her chief dread is to be suspected of a lack of worldly wisdom, and in dress she copies her fashionable elders with unswerving fidelity and occasionally ludicrous, results. That youth which in after years she will woo by means of cosmetics and face foods, she now totally disowns, and she is infinitely more blase and critical than the average woman of forty.

She is rather an expensive young person, too. She must always he “in things.” She joins the local tennis club and the school hockey club, and has special outfits for both, as well as the necessary weapons. She may play, or she may not, but to join is “the thing”; so her patents are called upon to stand the racket and pay tho piper —functions which they perform with a meekness which says more for their generosity tlian their wisdom. She has a liking for shoes of enamelled kid and stockings of silk. Her “simple little coats and skirts” are exquisitely cut, and her blouses of silk are made by an expensive tailor. As a matter of course she goes frequently to theatres and concerts; she makes various social engagements to suit her own convenience and desire, and longsuffering hostesses find her a critical and an exigent guest. She is a frequent patron of “smart” tearooms, and she powders her small nose, which, heaven knows, needs no powder, wit'll practised certainty and complete lack of embarrassment. She' trails at her well-shod heels a string of boys, and she handles her rival swains with unerring skill, and lets them fetch and carry for her as behoves a seasoned daughter of Eve. Dainty and well-turned out, with the charm of her youth seasoned by a dash of impertinence and savoir-faire, it cannot be gain-said that she is superficially and physically attractive. It must be admitted that beneath her carefully cultivated crudities there is much excellent material, but she is a rather pathetically ludicrous figure to those who look below tho surface. Her cherished belief is that she is up to date and unconventional, when as a matter of plain fact convention is her god. She models herself carefully on the lines laid down by her contemporaries, and a dread of ridicule or being “out of jit” sots her gossiping and prinking when, if left to her own desires, she would probably far rather concoct fearsome sweetmeats in the kitchen, or romp with her dogs in the garden. She is so satiated with amuse, mems, with rinking and dancing and “teaSj” that her formal entry into society can bring her neither enjoyment nor surprises. By a series of stupid flirtations she rubs the bloom off her girlhood and unconsciously lowers her own ideal of womanhood. With that mimicry which in young people is an instinct, she models herself on those about her, and unconsciously picks their weakest and most exaggerated points for reproduction. The worst charge that has been levelled against her* is that she is a snob, and that she reckons bank balances heavily in deciding which of her schoolmates are most to be cultivated. That, and a god deal more, is said of her, and it is a sweeping indictment which contains a sufficiency of truth to warrant attention. It is true thatthe childhood of to-day is not that of a dozen years ago —that the old childish games and stories, the simple pleasures and the “bread and butter” parties are rejected as being too old-fashioned and too dull. It is true that fresh-washed muslins Sind big sashes liave given way to clothes which are designed by Parisian costumieres who apparently have little real .knowledge of children. It is also true that the trust and simplicity of childhood have given way to an assumed synicism and scepticism, and that fairy tales anil such like are dismissed as “rot.”

Those are the acts which cannot be denied, hut it is unfair to lay the whole of the blame at the door of the Flapper herself. She is the result of a fashionable phase and of invironment, and if a revenrn to a more sincere childhood is desired her elders must take the mavter in hand. No sane person give a normal schoolboy the run o: >■ confectionery shop and expect anything but a bilious attack as the result, and as long as the “young person” is provided with an imitation of i grown up clothes and manners and amusements, so long will she expect and make use of them. It is idle to suggest that ten or twelve years can have made any real difference to the child-spirit —it may be temporarily covered, but it cannot be killed, and a return to a saner upbringing would revive it speedily enough. Children dread) ridicule more than most things, and once they realise that as miniature fashion plates and (voman of the world they are as ludicrous as they are charming as children, they of themselves will insist on some change. They will get enough of the tyranny of fashion and convention as they grow older; their earliei years might at least be spontaneous and untramelled. “Flapping” is a phase of the moment, which in small doses is amusing and harmless, but which has an insidious influence th|t wil], work no good if some,antidote of healthy simplicity is not brought into operation.