FASHION.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 19842, 10 January 1920, Page 5

FASHION.

— ♦ (By WALT MASON.) The dames have stacks of coats and gowns that they might wear for years; hut women wilt when fashion frowns, and shake with craven fears. The rags they buy are out of date as soon as they arc worn; and husbands sad, who pay the freight, can only mourn and mourn. I hear my Aunt Jemima say, “ This lid I bought last year would put mo, if ’twere worn to-day, ujron the street named Queer.” But I still wear the old brown tile I bought before the war, and no one asks, with caustic smile, “What do you wear it fort” A man may wear the ancient suit his father handed down, and still be called of good repute, a credit to the town. Along the village street I strut, and hear no jeering wheeze, because my coat has ancient cut, my pants have baggy knees. But if my Aunt Jemima goes in duds two seasons old, the women cry, “ Those fossil clothes I _ Consider and behold!” The cost of living would descend, Tir every homo, I swear, if girls had courage to offend the tyrant fashion, there. The girls have stacks of furbelows that cost, a ghastly pile; but they won’t wear such things as those, one season out of style.