DRESSING FOR AIR RAIDS.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXV, Issue 26, 24 December 1917, Page 3

DRESSING FOR AIR RAIDS.

i -“Surely some enterprising firm,” w rues a correspondent of the “British Australasian,” • before next -moon we count,time Red Indian fashion, by [ moons,, when.,we think of air raids * will devise some suitable costume for an early morning; appearance in the Tubes. It is most tiresome to put on' about eight or eleven things with bombs banging in the distance, and the rest of the household crying: ‘Do hurry up, Maud; don’t bother about your stockings or powdering your nose and for goodness sake turn out the light.’ A thick, long overcoat, with big pockets, holding emergency garments and rations—chocolate raisins, and biscuits —would be useful. It should have a cushion sewn in, low down at tho back, because lube steps are chilly to sit on, and there should be a comfortable mackintosh cap—becoming if possible, with a few ringlets sown, in, in front, attached to a button of the, coat—so that it would not get lost. Last raid we were in Rus-

sel square, so we all made a bee-line for : tbe Tube, and it was then 1 realised that raid costumes were a positive necessity. Miss J——, who is on the stage, was the only one who looked really attractive. Accustomed to dressing in a hurry, she had on a big coat, boots, and one of those hats that leave only one’s nose and chin visible, and , she bad even found time for a bit of powder on that nose and chin. Mr B , a pompous person from the Stock Exchange, was wearing pyjamas and a dinner jacket. He limped, and swore, because the stones hurt his bare feet. His wife had forgotten her toupee and her teeth, and had a beautiful lace nightgown, scarlet bedroom slippers, and an eiderdown. Old Mrs A. looked rather a dear in blankets and a bonnet, and her companion, who was having subdued hysterics, had two blouses on, and a petticoat over a long chiffon skirt. One or two ladies, from gqodness knows where, had forgotten hairpins, and the fact th ‘ they—sometimes—dyed their hair was painfully evident, for the *Jong part was all in streaks. All over London there are hundreds of people who go to bed nightly with all sorts of garments ready to put on. One man T’ve heard of has sewn socks into his trousers’ ends, and seccotincd the socks into boots. He hopes to be able to get into this combination garment in one leap. He puts all his valuables into an attache case, and thinks lie is ready for the worst. His sister pins her faith to a Japanese padded dres-sing-gown, fishing boots, and an uni•brella. ‘Why fishing boots?’ asked someone. ‘Why not?’ she answered, and then condescended to explain that they reminded her of days, also that she did not want to lose them, and that there was room in them for loose cash and .other trifles. For myself I’ve packed the poeficts of a thick, long overcoat with food, hairpins, cigarettes, watches, stockings, folding slippers, bathing cap and anovel, and feel 1 am prepared for the worst.”