Dresses of the Week

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18785, 14 June 1929, Page 12

Dresses of the Week

Written by

“STELLA"

As the seasons come round, they bring with them new and subtle changes in dress. The ways of this time last year are dead and gone, like last year’s leaves.

There are, however, certain rules which always apply to the art of dressing, and it is silly to succumb to the new modes if they are not becoming to us individually. We should take time to think out a scheme for our wardrobe, and not buy indiscriminately the first things we see that are the latest fashion. Choose first a becoming colour and style and build up toilettes. Matching is the order of the day. Every detail must be chosen with a view to the whole. Our wardrobe should be like a piece of architecture, in which every part must fit in and take its share in upholding the whole edifice. Its capacitj’ will be the greater and the cost will be less.

Better a few well chosen toilettes with hats, coats, shoes, stockings, gloves, bags or pouchettes, and scarves which “go” well with them than forty bought at random. Let us therefore concentrate on a few and seek to achieve a perfect effect with each one. In the choice of the right accessories lies all the difference between good dressing and merely wearing clothes. I saw a young matron yesterday who has recently returned to St Albans from a visit to the North Island. She was walking briskly along the Papanui Road in a smartly cut flared coat of very dark face cloth, with a brown fur collar and deep cuffs. Stitched

bands in an intricate design also caught my eye and a touch of beige on the dark brown felt hat. Her scarf was loosely knotted round the neck. I was told later it was held in place _ at the waist with a leather belt, a fashion which is creeping in again with the return to the normal waist line —and probably blouses. Longer evening dresses are established facts; first they dipped at one side, then at both, then at the back like a bird’s tail, but now the long all the way round frock is often seen, though the uneven hem is very general; it is even seen on aprons. One of the sweetest frocks was worn at a recent staff dance by a little fairhaired girl. Imagine net entirely covered in long diagonal lines, close together, of opalescent beads arranged in three deep tucks on the skirt. The bodice was just a simple little sleeveless affair. On the hip was a large bow of wide apple-blossom pink ribbon and another of apple-green ribbon, with upstanding loops and long ends, secured with a crystal buckle. At the Jewish dance one of the most noticeable frocks was worn by a handsome dark girl. The godet skirt was of plain black taffetas, hanging in long folds at the back. The bodice of shell-pink taffetas with delicate traceries of rhinestones fitted closely. As a matter of fact, I saw her literally sewn into it. Over the bodice she wore a charming little unlined coatee of pink georgette. By the way—these bolero coats are a splendid way of apparently reducing the size of the hips, especially if made

to hang a little below the waist-line. Slimness is still striven after, and much can be done by optical delusions. Everyone knows perpendicular stripes tend to height, while horizontal stripes have exactly the opposite effect. White is again seen at dances. On Thursday at the Winter Garden a tall and very fair girl wore an almost sweepingly long frock of white geeorgette. Her long hair was wonderfully fair, more like silver than gold, and it was becomingly dressed low on the nape of the neck. Years ago, this tint was called cendre, and many heroines in the novels of the day possessed it, but it is seldom seen in real life, and like genius, is born and cannot be acquired. The showery weather has brought out many quite pretty mackintoshes, and often hats to match. They are so bright and cheery, one can almost forgive the rain. When, I wonder, will someone introduce coloured umbrellas? It is many years since Jonas Han way courageously unfurled and hoisted the first umbrella in London—and ever since they have continued to be dreary affairs—resembling gigantic muddy mushrooms en masse. How sensible, too, are the woolly gaiters worn over flimsy silk stockings. I saw a dainty little girl, clad in henna velours, making her way to the safety zone yesterday, wearing a pair buttoned up the sides—'but why do they stop short at the knee?—l ask you why?