ART OF TRAVELLING

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLIII, Issue 20669, 6 March 1937, Page 10 (Supplement)

ART OF TRAVELLING

“LIVING IN A SUITCASE” END OF THE JOURNEY “My dear, I look a wreck. You know how one feels after a night in a train. I simply cannot face the world until I put on a new face in a decent light.” Have you ever met a friend arriving by a morning train who has not added this epilogue to her greeting? Or else she comes by boat and says, “Do look at my hair—and my skin. The sea air is absolutely devastating. And cabins do cramp one. I was always losing something, and now my wretched lipstick has disappeared. How do some people manage to look lovely though travelling?” Whether she comes by train or boat, she moans loud and long about the inconvenience of “living in a suitcase.” And she certainly looks as if not only her clothes, but herself, too, have journeyed within the confines of a three-by-two trunk. The woman who makes an occasional trip by tram or boat, and feels that she can never look as well when her toilette has to be made in the comparative smallness of a travelling berth, might pause to consider those other women to whom moving means bread and butter, and whose bread and butter depends upon good grooming and good dressing. From them she can learn how to appear soignee with the odds against one. There are the women who act as buyers for stores; there are the women who spend most of their lives on board ship, such as nursery hostesses; there are stage and screen actresses. Business women who make trips by boat or train have no time on arrival at their des-

tination in which to “put on a new face.” They usually have to rush off to keep an appointment with women, who, like themselves, are habitually well groomed. These women must hurry through the barriers, creaseless and greaseless. Choosing the Wardrobe And then, the actress. Her success in her profession depends almost, if not entirely, on her appearance. She steps from train or ship to face a battery of cameras. She has to rush off to a rehearsal, and there is no time to visit a hairdresser en route. If she is a film actress on location, she might be far removed from the heartening administrations of a beauty specialist, and her wave has to be photographed exactly as it was before she made the journey. Her clothes, too, must appear faultless to the eyes of the many critical women who are going to watch her film. None of these women complain about the disabilities suffered through having “to live in a suitcase,” simply because they have learnt just what should go into that case and what should be left at home.

The nursery hostess suggests laces and chiffons for evening wear afloat. She says:—“The women who complain about being crushed are those who will wear organdies or artificial silks or cottons that require constant ironing.” She has in her cabin a black lace gown, with which she wears different boleros, sashes, shoes, or flowers. Another frock of cream lace has detachable sleeves, and, with this one, too, she varies her accessories. With a multi-coloured chiffon frock she also wears different shoes and jackets to tone with one or another of the colours in the pattern. The skin and hair suffer most through travelling, and the girls behind the footlights, more than any others, are able to give tips to travellers regarding the care of them. When a troupe of smiling ballet girls step from an inter-state train lookmg as fresh as if they had come straight from a beauty parlour, they usually manage to make most of the other women passengers appear travel-stained and dishevelled. One girl who arrived in Sydney recently with a travelling company said:— Advice from Experience “I do not think people make the most of the space at their disposal. I have often travelled with women who did not even bother to discover the drawers tucked away above their berths, or even investigate the hanging space in the wardrobe. It never occurs to them to sit on the lower berth, erect the portable table, spread their creams and powder on it, and give their faces, a really good make-up. Some of us shampoo and set our own hair, but many attend a hairdresser’s once a week and take good care of the waves in between settings. We sleep with clips or combs in our hair, and always wear a net in bed. We also make good use of ’dry’ shampoo.” If you could see those women, who know how to travel, packing up when the trip is over, you would find that each of them had a compact set of cosmetics fitted into a little bag with a zipper fastener. Each, too, has a larger bag, which will hold the smaller one and any other odds and ends which might be required when spending a night in a train. Larger cases can then be left in the keeping of the guard.