PIERRE’S SECRET

Taranaki Daily News, 20 February 1933, Page 12

PIERRE’S SECRET

WIG-MAKER TALKS AMERICA’S ILLUSTROUS WOMEN. HE KNOWS THEIR VANITIES. What does a man who knows women think about women? asks the New York correspondent of the Wellington Post. Ask Pierre Victor Senegas, wig-maker to the great Sarah Bernhardt, hairdresser extraordinary to most of the illustrious women of the stage and society. There are headline names that have inspired envy and admiration throughout the world: Maude Adams, Lillian Russell, Mrs. Reginald Vanderbilt, Gilda Gray, Irene Bordoni, Nora Bayes, Madge ’ Kennedy, Tallulah Bankhead, Eva Lavalliere, Delia Fox, Ada Rehan, Kitty Gordon, Edna May—dozens of others. M. Senegas has received intimate confidence from some of these famous ones, ' and knows their most private vanities. He has heard society matrons beg for just one more puff of false hair to outnumber a rival’s dozen curls. He has heard dowagers curse like. muleteers when their hair was pulled, and seen famous beauties weep like children over a new wrinkle or a first grey hair. He has lent them money and advised them. After about a half century of that he is not yet a cynic, and swears he never will be. A gnome-like little Frenchman of 64, he beams over the subject of women. “Ah, women!” he exclaims. “They are coming into their own right. They are leaving behind the centuries of slavery. They are better mentally, morally and physically than their grandmothers. I dress the hair of young ladies whose grandmothers were my old customers. I know.” He holds up a warning hand. “Mind, I will mention no names. These ladies are my family, my daughters and my sisters. They tell'me everything, and I tell nothing. Not even anything nice. Their husbands do not like it. “The ladies of society, even to mention their names, they may not like it, unless it is in the page of society. But the ladies of the stage they are better natured. As long as one says nothing’ mean . . . and who would wish to? ... they do not mind.” STAGE WOMEN BEST NATURED. M. Senegas laughed at the tradition of theatrical temperament. “No, my ladies of the stage, they are my best natured clients. When ntaybe the. hair is pulled a little, they do not complain as the others do. They are used, you comprehend, to the of the stage. Consider Delia Fox. Long ago she burned her hair over a candle, She was lost, in tears, but brave. She comes to me. Together we laugh, and voila! I evolve for her a little curl, and the curl becomes famous,»also Delia Fox. I am kind, but I will allow not too much nonsense. If madame scolds too much, I say: "Madame, if you do not stop tossing youf head like a horse in his stall I shall not cut your hair.’ And then they are good.” M. Senegas, who has refused a small fortune for his • intiinate' memoirs, talks gladly abOut women as long as thOy remain nameless and in the aggregate. “My ladies tell me everything,” he says. “They must talk to someone, so it is to me. They say: ‘What shall I do about my husband, Who is a philanderer?’ And I tell them. ‘What shall I do to gain the invitation to the grand ball?’ And I tell them that, too. They tell me all their troubles and I keep many of them from going to a doctor sick in the heart.” In position to know more about women than many learned doctors of psychology, M. Senegas , feels that modern woman is not only a better specimen than her riiother, but has better judgment arid taste. He shrugs away the idea of reversion to the Old-fashioned type. “Curls and frills and Empire gdwns? What do they niean? They mean’ nothing. Are women giving up their hew freedom for an old fashion? never. Consider the corset,” M. Senegas cries dramatically. “The corset! He flips dpeh e fnagazinO On top of a mam-, cure table in his establishment jufet off Fifth Aveiiue, and points a dramatic finger. WOMEN SLAVES NO MORE. “Theta! Regard. That is a corset. Regard the waist. Madame cannot breathe. She cannot Move freely. She can never be truly happy in such a corset. It is the symbol of woman’s slavery. When womeh wear corsets to-day, do they squeeze themselves so? No, they are free. They will not be enslaved again. Never worry. Let them wear their curls and frills. They are pretty. They mean nothing. I know.” . He continues on the subject of modem women. “No, the young lady of to-day knows what is best for her. Sne thinks with her mind, as her mother did not. It is not the young lady of to-day who comes to me with a picture of her favourite cinema star and wants, me to dress her hair like that. No. It is the two-hundred pound woman, no longer veung, who wants to be so fooliSh. She has not the judgment. But,” he shrugs expressively, “I do not give them what they ask, I would not. I make tnem want what I knbw is best for them. Each head must be different. No two faces are alike. Therefore, no two hair cuts. Consider now, Irene Bordoni. She comes to me and sayS: ‘My forehead, it is high and bare!’ I 166 k. I hbd and voila! wfe have evolved her now famous bangs. She d6eS not want to be like someone else. She wants td be herse • Incidentally. Mr. Senegas Says, bobbed hair is in. In fact, it has never been out. Styles in short hair may change from shingles to curls and back again, but M. SenegaS believes the “crowning glory” of long hair is gone for ever, and 3 he is glad of it. Barring those few actresses such as Eva Lavalliere, whose , hair he bobbed way back in 1888 to suit . a new role, he traces the emancipation of the feminine head to the French ( cocottes during the war. ; Flipping pages of more magazines, ] both French and American, M. Senegas , launched into his favourite topic, the j “art” of barbering, his ambition to 1 create co-operation between hairdressers < and milliners, and the clumsiness or j “hair butchers who call themselves ] barbers." 1 1

THE DANGERS OF “SLIMMING.” an Eminent doctor’s views. Dr. Alfred Cox, formdr Medical Secretary of the British Medical Association, gives, at the request of the Evening News, a word of counsel to the unco’ plump. Losing fat is not impossible, but it does mean self-denial. Bother the fashion! “Everybody admits that the human body is a most complicated machine. Yet most people act as if it could be tinkered with easily and with no more risk than a child’s toy,” writes Dr. Alfred Cox. “Few men, and still fewer women, would dream of interfering with the interior of the magneto of their car or the works of their watch, but I have met few who Wbuld not cheerfully volunteer advice as to the regulation of other people's bodies or even apply it to their own “Really fat people can hardly fail to benefit by judicious slimming, but people who are about' the weight th&t nature intended them to be can ohly interfere with nature’s balance at considerable risk to themselves. The Ministry of Health has recently pointed out that slirtiming is probably responsible for an increase in the number of cases of tuberculosis amongst women. . “There are two kinds of fat people; those whose obesity is dqe to their eating mota than they can assimilate, the surplus being laid down as fM; and those in whom it is due to want of co-ordina-tion of the endocrine glands. “These glands are bodies whose functions are still far from being fully understood, but we know that they ata largely responsible for keeping the body in a state of physical and mental stability. An over-growth of one may cause a man to develop into a giant; the underdevelopment of another may produce a cretin. ' ’' / “Anybody can see that the treatment of these two classes of obesity must be on totally different lines. The great majority of fat people belong to the first class. They eat more than they cart assimilate, which is not the same as saying the thfey ata gross feeders (though many are). It is a question of quality as well as of quahtity. “It is not sufficient merely to eat less, though that is the basis of fiidSt obesity cures. The diet must ne chdsen for the individual and Modified acddfding tb results. , » “A simple and attractive way of putting the pfpblifn iS ‘Fat is like a bank b&lance; it represents the difference betwden income (fdod) and expenditure (exercise and excretion through kidneys and bowels); therefore if ybu decrease the income and increase the expenditure your balance disappears.’' *‘lt Sounds attractive, but, unfortunately, it isn’t as simple as all that. Top much exercise or the wrong kind °* exercise may have the effect not only of upsetting the general health, but algo of actually increasing the fat, wjuie in some cases prolbnged tast in bed will effect a cure. Prolonged purgatton is certain to lead to trouble. “My advice to the overweight person is to take it seriously. Fat is a handicap in getting about, and much of it is repulsive to the view. Besides, all the fat isn’t on the surface, but is probably invading important organs of the body. Insurance companies view fat persons with suspicion, because it is known that their expectations of life is not -as good as that of the normal person; they fall victims to certain diseases more taadily than the average. “If you are much over weight, try to get rid of it. It iWt easy, for it requires not only skilled diagnosis as' to its cause and good rhedical advicO AS to treatment, blit a great deAl of selfdenial on thO part of the patient. But it is worth it! ftoii’t take thyroid except under mddicai advice; avoid quack remedies, afid, finally, if yOU ata of normal weight, leave well albhP and let fashion go hang!” The First Woman Flier, “the history of aviation does hot record who was the first wofnah to fly, and I see that efforts ata bpihg mad£ to discover who she was, states an English writer. “The search has to go back for close upon a quarter of a ceptury. For a long time it was thought that Mrs. S. F. Cody, the wife of the famous airman, was the pioneer woman flier in August, 1909. Several women are known to have made flights in that year, and among them was Kathleen Cotmtess of Drogheda. The countess is an expert airwoman, and is a familiar figure at flying meetings. But the first woman to take the air is believed to be Mrs. Guy Repton, who made a short flight in a French .machine near Paris in the spring of 1908. Mrs. Repton is an Englishwoman resident in London.’* >

LONDON’S MILLINERY. “FEATHERWEIGHT” CAPS. ) “I have the pleasure of inspecting i very comprehensive collection of the newest millinery,” states an English fashion writer. “The feather cap is lighter than fur, and yet is in keeping. Further, this real ‘featherweight’ is a boon to the busy woman. The opportunity for colour-schemes is always helpful, for most shades are worn today, and we can well select what suits us best with our wrap of fur. Papal- . purple and turquoise-blue, the avowed spring shades of fashion, are very charming worn with the grey-squirwi dr moleskin. For the picturesque brimmed shapes, white paper panama is first hi the list It can be stiffened up by wide bands of firm petersham or felt The latter is best for sea-moisture, mixed with fabric. Another charming alliance with a drooping brim or baku or panama is one of the now crinklycrepes, forming a crown in many soft-shaded stripes, with bow and ends assisting in its poise. Many of these crepe-crowns also can be repeated in a twisted saSh or scarf. They are young-looking, and are more comfortable than stiffer crowns. The old Leghorn and other familiar straws are’ pressed into service for the picture shapes which, being wide of brim, are not, however, so easy to pack. The tricorne and the elongated porkpie shapes are offered in ah amusing rather sporting variety, and in other tri-coloured schemes. Burnt-sienna and a deep marine-blue with beige strikes an unusual and practical note in travelling shades. A purple felt, with no decoration beyond three loops of its own fabric, was attractively simple, for it just seemed moulded to the head with the loops breaking the line. “So many women are asking ma if we shall have the helpful shade a£ a brim this spring, or continue the cap and beret. For the moment, I should say, the brimless vogue prevails, though sometimes fashion gives a brim, blit abruptly catches it up again, as in foe case of the turban or pork-pie, with its double brim of fur-cloth in grey, white, or red, which has a black felt crown. There is a brim in this case, but it turns UP, and nOt down! In A measure, foe effect is far softer and more becoming than the suddenness of the very anal! cap that always requires such careful wearing. “For sport foerfe is a pleasing variety of stitched tweeds and fabric caps, and small hats. Then there is RebGux’s small felt hat, with a half-brim, just sufficient to shade the eyes and carry a felt bow down on the right side. Tsie mode is so elastic that any woman searching for a brim can find a smartlypoised orie, but I like most the fuller, pulled-as-you-please turban crown, with a double graduated turn-back bririx of contrast. It is easy to wear with foe ultra high collars of the hour.” A Useful Sauce. The short sauce known as “Meunieee* is useful, easy to make, and can be de- ■ iightful (states a writer in the Daily Telegraph). It is especially useful ift that we can serve thus fillets of sole, trout, red mullet, as well as endives, artichokes, cauliflowers and salsify. The principlfe remains the same: We cook iri foaming butter the fish or the vegetable, but it is essential that whatever we choose to cook should be really dry, otherwise it might catch. Therefore, if it is fish we roll the dsh gently, in ® cloth sprinkled with flour; it is not i question of coating the fish with it, simply the best way to dry it. Then we cook it on both sides till nicely brdwn, and lemon juice, salt and serve. Vegetables are, of course, boiled first, thdn well drained and cooked iri exactly the same manner. It often happens that < the inexperienced cook here makes a mistake; either she serves the fish er vegetable quite dry, or worse still, she puts in. the butter in which they have been cooked. This butter is at the end quite black and 6ily; in fact, no goodi The correct thing to do is to throw, ii away, melt a piece of butter in the pan, squeeze a little lemon juice, arid pour ovex' the dish while still foaming. It should be still foaming when it arrives on the table.