PRETTIES PLAY PART IN THE SPRING BRIDES LIFE

NZ Truth, Issue 1200, 29 November 1928, Page 17

PRETTIES PLAY PART IN THE SPRING BRIDES LIFE

SMALL FOLK LISTEN- IN

•"THE 2YA studios m Featherston Street, are high upstairs, 1 and few suspect that above the traffic and dust of Wellington streets are rooms big and luxurious enough to be part of the finest private houses. The reason for this isn't just that the directors like comfy cushions. The artists, and indirectly the public, are the chief beneficiaries. Songsters, musicians and tellers of talesy the company explains aren't at their brightest and best unless every thing . m the garden— or the drawing-room — is lovely. Color, comfort' and atmosphere are absolute essentials to the success of a programme. So m the room where the Children's Hour items are broadcasted everything 1 has the cheery glow of a nursery m some old English mansion.^ The rugs on the a. floor are patterned with weird and wonderful nursery animals — ducks, green frogs, and birds which would give our most hardened naturalist a thrill. By the grand piano stand the performers — often just children, whose sweet treble voices .'jive more pleasure to the small folk at the other end of the wire than any more' finished performance could do. Many and various are the tales which a morning's mail may bring m to 2YA, concerning 1 -, the effect which this Children's Hour may have on a New Zealand home. From the backblocks, a mother writes m to say that every night her children dress m their best clothes, tidy their hair, and generally behave m finished callpaying manner, to listen m to the Children's Concert: The eldest boy, a young man of about ten, insists that the children who give the items would be prettily and neatly dressed, and -that : it is only polite for the audience to turn up m similar shipshape style. From a hospital comes a tragic tale of a little . lame girl, orphaned and alone m the world, who nevertheless had' a highly successful birthday owing to the kindness of the nurses,

" 2YA, Wellington, .speaking." Thousands of good citizens and true put on earphones and a pleasant smile as they listen m to racing results, concert items, or children's hour tales, as the case may be.

who clubbed together and bought her a little doll.

But sad things happened, and the doll, ■ which was accidentally taken to an infectious ward, departed this life. A very tear-stained letter was' re-

Sadie Fawcett is the name of the dainty maid who wore this wedding gown at an old-time bridal pageant held m Wellington recently. The contrast between a fresh young face and the silverpowdered masses of curls, piled high beneath the towering head-dress, shows that our ancestresses knew a thing or two concerning scenic effects. Down to the ground sweeps the glimmering train, which would take all the mighty muscle of a legion of small page-boys to get it .down the aisle. No wonder brides didn't cavil at £he word "obey" m those high and far-off times — for m such a gowri as this, it would be impossible either to fight or to run.

ceived by the 2YA Company, next day, describing a lonesome state of affairs m. the life of one small lady, who, forsaken by her one doll, was beginning to think that the whole world was heartily against her.

FOX-TROTS AND , FAIRIES

A hunt through the cupboards of one of the directors revealed a few toys, which were parcelled together. But then a 2YA man was visited by inspiration, and be 1 took himself to : the largest toy store m town, where, as.it so happened, a, very big and. beautiful doll, with real hair and a taking way of saying "Mamma" was reclining on the counter. "Wrap it up and send it away," said the toy store owner, as scon as he had read the forlorn maiden's letter. And at present, m a Wellington hospital, one little lass ' has shining ayes, for she has not only a, doll almost as large as herself to cuddle, but a parcel of little gifts to dole out to the other lonely children m her ward. . ' ' , _ From a young mother comes a photograph of the little five-year-old daughter, a sunshiny * maid, whose birthday falls next day. The Jb Radio Fairies are told where the final pre- Jr sent is hidden, so that they may reveal it, / as a surprise, .when Children's Hour comes M round. And they are also told what only ff the young mother knows— that, the sun- / shine maid will have no more birthdays, / for, unknown to herself, she is the B victim of 'a complaint which leaves her f only three months more of playtime. / • Two' studios, one for. orchestral / performers, one for singers, are f provided.- .' The concert room' is all / m soft, dull, blue- panelled walls, ' I blue carpet, and deep- cushioned ' / chair's in' which orchestra mem-' :m bers may rest whilst awaiting / their item. The other room ■'■ . i is furnished m rose . arid, ■/ black— all the slender, per-".'./ iod chairs cushioned . m ./ rose brocade, and even / the- little curtains which / hide away the dingy / streets -of ' gay "coleur 7 de rose."- Every allowance is made. for. "artistic temperament," and one has only to glance, at the rooms m order to know that the' company has at least. one graceful : imagination at its disposal.

"2YA" is a very human thing. It is brought into s v.c h close touch with the homes and hearts of New Zealand 'that directors and performers alike must necessarily, be sympathetic folk.

DIXIE GIRL, — Pack up your troubles m your new handbag, tell tine * husband and small children to Kope for the worst, and come along down to Wellington. We are carniyaliing, my child — lots of confetti and rose petals and.snsppy stories m the air, and even our respectable old Town Hall got up m a black and sold outfit that would make its designer turn a handspring m shesr indignation. The idea being — ss you probably know, everybody's been waviing it from the. housetops these many moons — io build ourselves a National Art Gallery and Museum. And where the Art is to coirie from, when we've got the Gallery, perhaps Argus could tell you, though I os;i think of quite a few -Museum pieces. Anyhow, m the meantime, we're all having the time of our wicked old lives, and it wouldn't be at all a bad idea, on your part, to join the throng. As the serpent said to Eve, this thing's too good to miss. — Your comrade at arms, TAFFY.

And so, m these enlightened days, are brides attired. Nothing of old-time . grace is lost m the exquisite costume which Mrs.: Howard' Ellis — nee Miss Lorna Trengrove, of Wei-"" lington — designed for her own wedding. The train," which is of cream embossed georgette, still sweeps deep enough to please the Pope — but it is as light as gossamer. From old days comes the heirloom veil of Limerick lace which frames the face of this charming modern bride.

What, exactly, will the bride of the future be like? We've seen the towering "crowning glory" of powdered curls vanish, the heavy train give place to a filmy one. The tradition of the "all white" bride is fast disappearing, and rainbow tints creep into our wedding gowns. Color and more color is theory.