CONGRESS OF CURLS.

Ohinemuri Gazette, Volume XXI, Issue 2729, 9 December 1910, Page 3

CONGRESS OF CURLS.

A PARLIAMENT OF BARBERS

"More curls than ever!" That was

the momentous decision come to amidst breathless excitement at the Gate Monaco, where the leading hairdressers ot the world gathered for their great annual display. The proceedings began with a competition in which the curls are fashioned by the deft and twinkling fingers of masters of the art, and end with a ball, where the fair friends of the hairdressers twirl and sway in conscious pride, knowing vyell that each " little head sunning over with curls," is decreeing the fashion , for a whole year to a waiting feminine universe. This time the competition was keener that ever, and the " creations " that grew down the long line ot toilet tables as the seventy minutes sped were bewildering in their elaboration and beauty. Each hairdresser brings two ladies, whose heads he must dress in the stated time —one with jewels and one without —and, besides the happy subjects themselves quite a host of artists, milliners, and society ladies turned up to catch the earliest glimpse of the latest modes. As has been said, curls are the watchword. You cannot have too many. If one looks at a Victorian shilling one will see that besides the long obsolete " bun," there is a little curl straying low down the Royal neck, and a slender fillet over the head. Well, that fillet and that little overflowing curl are the germs of even the highest achievements of the modern coiffure.

The fillet has grown until it has become a " bandeau " of silk and gems ; the "bandeau " has grown until in some instances it assumed the proportions almost of a turban. But still the rebellious curls must be there, clustering over the crown like rolls of butter on a dish, peeping artlessly through winding silks and gems and tortoiseshell buckles. Yet with all these wonders of detail there is a simplicity about it all—for the modern hair artist " follows the shape of the head," that is to say, of the ideal head, just touched up here and there with a gossamer framework. There are no perverted atrocities like the doorknocker or the chignon. In its own way nature is creeping up—and now, if ever, is Topsy's chance.