Case of the Wardrobe.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1030, 27 November 1891, Page 4

Case of the Wardrobe.

A girl whose immaculately fresh and admirably neat appearance attracted the attention of her women friends, explained in her sly, little, confidential way how it was that she contrived to always look welldressed in spite of her iimited income. ‘ It is simply,’ she said, ‘the result of carefulness—the old ounce of prevention worth the old pound of cure. Take my boots, for instance. Instead of doubling them into a shop bag, or letting the tops hang over standing against the wall, I never remove shoes, high or low, without the precaution of slipping in each one a hollow wooden form just the size of my foot. The uppers are neatly buttoned over a leg shape, and there they are until again needed for service. This applies to all my walking gear—often half a dozen pairs of boots at a time. My gowns are treated in the same fashion, the waists hooked up over sweet scented pillows made for the purpose, with tiny perfumed bolsters for the sleeves, polished wooden racks to support the skirts, and big muslin bags to encase the whole. I never permit a fine frock to be folded or hung under any circumstances. Immediately upon unpinning hat or bonnet they are placed on stand fitted into my wardrobe, where wired paper muslin caps are provided to protect them from dust and the crush of heavy garments. In a wide, shallow, flannel-lined drawer I have as many a 3 twenty wooden models of my wrist and hand. Of course, this explains the freshness and longevity of my gloves. No matter how late I come home from the opera or a ball, my gant3 de Suede are put to bed before I think of sleeping. Lucky women who have maids are. of course, independent of these small economics, hut we impecunious girls must study such minute matters or consent to go shabbily clothed.’